#every day it gets closer and closer to parody

[knicks-knacks]

"this cannibal murder game has incest in it and that makes me uncomfortable" oh my oh no! we must fix this, we wouldn't want the horror game to freak you our or make you uncomfortable or anything!! that's not what horror is about!! like the cannibalism is fine but the incest? 🤢cant have such gross illegal things in this horror game!

[yandere-wishes]

⭒ㅤׂ ɪ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʙᴇ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇㅤׂ ⭒

⭒ㅤ𓈒 Yandere!WuWa! Men x Reader 𓈒 ⭒

゜⌒ヽ❥ Dark Romance

°•❃•°

꒷꒦꒷Scar | 伤痕

Your fear tastes like nectar, thick and sweet, and sacrilegious. Scar gulps down your apprehension in starving strides. Cradling the burn between his teeth, savoring the sensation of the embers coiling and seething inside his veins. You're too perfect, thrashing underneath him, caged and defiant his little lost lamb. trying to flee, begging for freedom like a fever dream high. He licks your iridescent tears with zealous maniacal jubilation. Relishing in the soft warm flesh of your cheek marinated in your woe. He wants to taste them every day, force them from your pretty petrified eyes with scorching kisses and touches that shatter your very bones.

Scar's talons etch jagged filigrees across your body engraving terrors and torments all parodying "I love you". But he can't love, not really, love is too gentle too vain, he needs to consume, to feel the reverberations trapped between your bones. Scar's kisses burn wakes down your spine, slipping between the vertebras. Hollowing out your essence piece by piece, his hunger knows no bonds, refusing to dwindle until he's bled every delicious part of you dry. Until he feels your heart between his teeth.

˚✶˚Jiyan | 忌炎

You trace his markings, nails gliding gingerly through the jagged crystals of his tacet mark. He kisses the hollow of your palm, basking in the sweet giggle you gift him. You're his precious treasure, a sweet gem imported from the silk roads themselves. He'd do anything to keep you safe binding your soul to his tattered one. Jiyan is the Qingloong that everyone looks up to, the indestructible pillar of Jinzhou. And yet a simple smile from you is all it takes to shatter his illusion of strength.

Between patients, his mother would sometimes grace him with fables about Dragons, not Loong, not the creature their nation worshiped but Dragons monsters from the western nations. She'd tell him How they hoarded exotic treasures from all corners of the world. Growing powerful in the light of other's envy. They did anything to protect their gold coins and pearl necklaces, kill, and maim in the name of obsession. Back then he'd found such creatures disgusting, dubbed it blasphemy to even mention them in the same breath as the deific Loong. Now he thinks he's more dragon than Loong. Hoarding you away keeping you only to himself. Promising to maul any who try to rob him of your sweet kisses and angelic laughter.

𒆜Calcharo | 卡卡罗

You come prepackaged with a soft smile and a docile heart. Calcharo thinks it's all from the privilege of having lived a satisfactory life. Cherished, overfed, protected. All the things stripped of him so young. He shouldn't be jealous though, after all, he has the complacency to thank for turning his darling into such an ideal doll. Jejune and helpless, shivering under his cold touch. He harbors you between his thighs, enjoying the way your pearl-kissed dress pools on the floor. An ivory testament to the innocence he so craves. Calcharo's calloused fingers entrap the hollow of your hips pulling you harshly against him, he can't get enough of you. His lips kiss the dip of your neck nose bumping the back of your ear. Enraptured by the floral scent of your perfume.

You tried to run again today, flee when he'd been out escorting a merchant across the desert terrain. His men had caught you, binded you all pretty and left you in his chamber. He flashes you a crooked smile upon entry. Watching as you struggle and glare knowing damn well it won't change a thing. "Really little rabbit? I thought we had ceased playing such foolish games." He grasps your chin pulling you closer, your knees slide across the wooden floor scuffing from the friction. His cold lips trace your own as he whispers degradations laced with romance. Calcharo leans down for the kill, a lethal crushing kiss. Trapping your lips and engulfing your essence. Laughing when you're foolish enough to return the favor. You shiver and moan and it takes every bit of willpower not to devour you right then and there.

☄Mortefi | 莫特斐

The universe reverberates to a familiar tune when he first sees you. Singing a melody he swears he's heard each night when he lays his wry head to rest. What kind of creature are you? A cacophony of starsongs and golden echoes. He longs to touch you, to permit his flames to traverse your body searing you until you shine with the purity you all so deserve. He loses himself in the melody of your voice, the lost tune of a fading nova. Something too ethereal to be of this crude world.

Mortefi fancies himself a scientist and takes utmost pride in the way his mind curves around a problem. Floating through the riddles seeking answers in the dark. He can fix anything, create anything. And yet you stand before him defiant of his understanding. Mortefi grabs you by the collar, cradling a rogue sun within his palms, kissing its rays trying to grasp comprehension between his teeth and swallow it whole. It doesn't work by the end of the kiss you are still an anomaly and he is still a scientist wearing the heart as some hapless love-struck schoolboy. The need to understand you grows claws tearing at his mind, desperation pierces his throat whenever he catches a mere glimpse of you. He needs to understand, to tear you open and choke your secrets.

҉　Aalto | 秋水

Aalto's fingers weave through your hair, silk traversing through bone and flesh, flowing free in the aero he produces subconsciously. He cradles you delicately in his arms, trying his best to ignore the sour frown etched upon your face. He creates fables, spinning stories out of silk and air trying to win your interest with tales of stray sheep and fallen stars. Of lost treasures on the jade road and little girls with fire flowing through their veins. Your frown doesn't falter.

He kisses you again, and again and again. Trying to pry out adoration and devotion from between your bones. He struggles, whining about detesting and freedom. It sounds so trivial especially when he can give you everything your heart desires. He can't let you go, not when his very essence aches to feel you between his arms. Aalto wonders what stories he must make to erase that blood-curdling frown of yours. What information does he need to lay out your feet for you to grace his lips with your own? A lover's kiss, not whatever this is. I love you he whispers, he doubts you even care.

Let me know what you think. Should I do yandere Jiyan x reader x Yandere Calcharo next? ~💜

[eldritch-spouse]

You swear you saw a glint of sadness in his expression. It might be presumptuous to ask but you feel the need to. Turning away from foraging for food, you look up at the god “Protector Saudramar, how has your day been going? You seem… lost in thought.”

He had been staring off for a while now, beyond the sea gently swaying before him, beyond his powers, dominions and virtues soaring dutifully through the skies. Saudramar looked past the clouds and saw the edges of Eden as the annex gently orbited Earth.

There's no words to describe the utter impotence he feels.

To be the pinnacle of perfection as a Protector yet desire so much more, know that he's capable of so much more but completely powerless to take his place amongst the great Fathers and Mothers. Born to see others fit into place like puzzle pieces while he's doomed to push against the walls of his cage.

Nothing he does can fill the void that's been growing in the siadar's very core. Every single day, boiling rage and vicious envy turn him into an increasingly sour shell of his former self. The pain of his own existence grows heavier on his weary shoulders and he retreats into his own mind to avoid putting those who have been entrusted to him at risk.

Most of these sentiments are unleashed in the great battles against Perdition and the Betrayer's growing forces. He has looked the first fiends in the face as he slayed their kin effortlessly, never a hint of fear to be found in his brilliant ocean eyes, just monumental hatred projected onto the abominations created by a rebel.

It was different, this time.

As he held one of those slithering, disgusting, deformed parodies of celestials- It had stared at him. In a way none had before.

It saw him. It saw the real him.

And the way that foul creature laughed in Saudramar's face made him pause.

You and Them are not so different.

It had rasped, bloodied and broken.

You live in the shadows of those that are inferior to you, as did They once.

Look at us now.

Saudramar couldn't kill it. He couldn't even process what was said to him in that moment. He launched the demonic lifeform into the bowels of its own degenerate annex and moved on. But those words, hissed through chipped teeth and a slithering tongue, held only truth, engraved themselves in his soul.

And the realization alone leaves a taste in the Protector's mouth he hasn't been able to wash off.

The Betrayer is a reflection of him.

The very things he's mercilessly slaughtering with others of his cast are no more than unauthorized creations, in an unauthorized annex, designed by a siadar who was also unhappy with their role in the universe.

Except, that one was strong enough to achieve a modicum of their vision, if only just for a glimpse in time. A window of self-fulfilment worth more than an entire existence of conformity.

What is he doing?

...

The sound of your soft voice has Saudramar snapping his gaze towards you, hardened stare gradually receding.

" Lesser. "

He has a complicated view of humanity. As much as he is unbelievably fond of your design, he's also of the opinion that this project was much too ambitious. The fruits of aimless impulse from Creators who, to him, have neither a plan nor a solution for the trouble your kind will eventually brew.

Alas, you are his favorite so far. Saudramar has witnessed many lessers be born and succumb to age, and not one was as captivating as you. He can't place what it is about you yet that's so appealing, but the Protector knows he'd like to keep you closer, the same way some other casts get to perform binding ceremonies with their favored.

You are his chosen.

But Saudramar won't burden you with that.

The god shakes his head.

" Fret not. Do you require my assistance? "

You smile, relieved. " No, my Lord. " There's a pause, you can clearly tell he's upset, and the siadar chides himself for displaying weakness like that to one of his entrusted.

" Was today's battle exhausting? "

He observes you forage idly.

" Never. Every day Perdition suffers the righteousness it deserves, and I am only fueled by its destruction. "

Saudramar squats when you look into his eyes. A pallid, beautiful hand reaches out, brushing over yours. One set of eyes studies the contrast, another keeps your attention on him.

" Not once shall the filth of the impure taint your sight. The land you step upon is under my protection, and harm will fall upon those who conceive of desecrating it. "

You hold onto his hand with both of yours, and Saudramar feels his chest blossom with a sensation that chases away the thunder in his soul for the briefest of moments.

" Can we cook for you tonight, Protector? " You offer, and Saudramar is thankful no one else is around to see the way he bleeds adoration through his stare.

" Of course, my lesser. "

He will have to hide you away from the seraphim this upcoming Spring, the though of you paired to another lesser is displeasing at best. None of the males here are of enough quality to impregnate you. You are exemplary, a perfect specimen.

Saudramar will protect you.

That's one thing he'll always be able to do, no matter what the future may bring.

" Now, finish. Night will fall soon. "

[homosexualmorelikehomiesexual]

like dont get me wrong natasha lyonnes acting is stellar too. everyones is. but theres something about clea duvall...idk. she plays it differently. she carries herself differently. she acts differently. she plays graham like its not a satire movie, she plays it with every single ounce of raw pain and grief and fear and tragedy that would come about were this situation real. and everyone else plays it as a heeheehoohoo camp comedy, (and it fucks!) except natasha lyonne who starts out closer to the satire end of things, but after she meets graham, she quickly and subtly begins playing it more seriously as grahams understanding of reality rubs off on her to the point it changes the way she carries herself through the narrative, she stops seeing it as this pastoral greeting card and sees the reality. megan is lucky, by the time it fully clicks for her and shes sent packing, she already has somewhere to go. graham (at least in her mind) doesnt. graham is alone. she has no friends. even if she passes her parents may very well cut her off anyway. shes constantly berated and seen as the poster child for evil butch bulldyke but shes *so* vulnerable and so hurt, moreso than anyone else there. (besides jan for the 10 seconds she realizes shes trans. youll get there, man) and its...man it makes me ache. and megan coming through in the end with all of...herself, everything that came across as ditzy and silly and just a performance of comphet, comes through in making the ending beautiful and *sincere*. at the end of the day, shes still a cheerleader. thats *her*. her genuine, kindhearted sincerity and optimism, and grahams raw, aching trauma, is the beating heart of the movie. without the sincerity and the undercurrent of real hurt, the satire would fall short into vapid parody. its so well balanced, i love it.

[gachawolfiebloom]

Two Hearts In The City of Love

Chapter 14: Confessing Under the Full Moon

It was just them now. No wacky shenanigans from Mario. No Mr Puzzles trapping them for his entertainment. None of their friends. Just them. Both of them noticed how they were tightly squeezing while holding hands. Four was still a little shaken up by all of this and he missed being by Three's side. Three was so relieved to see his counterpart, his partner, his friend, his crush. He wanted to keep Four close by since he had almost lost the other half of him.

"Uhh..Three? You're gripping my hand a little hard." He instantly blushed and shy retracted his arm, whispering "Sorry..." Four felt bad for what he did. He actually enjoyed holding Three's hand. His gloves made his hands feel so nice and warm. He then saw a bridge next to them as he pointed to it and said "Let's rest here for a while." Three wasn't sure, but shrugged and followed.

Both of them noticed all the locks chiming in the cool breeze. Three shifted his gaze from the locks to the full moon above. "Geez...must have been gone a long time for the moon to be full." Three leaned himself against the railing, head in his hands as he stared up at it. He wanted to ask Four something, but then noticed that he wasn't next to him. He was standing behind. "You can join me if you want." Four shook his head and looked at the ground in silence. "What? Are you afraid of water or something?"

"No...not exactly."

Three didn't get until Four timidly asked "Would you push me?"

"Huh?"

"Would you push me off the bridge?"

Three got up from the railing and concernedly approached. "Of course not! Why would you think that?" Four wanted to tell him about the nightmare, but then he had a thought of realization. Would this all go away if he finally admitted his feelings? "Just wondering." Three wanted to say something else, but Four stopped him by grabbing hold of his hands. His hands still felt soft and warm.

"I need to tell you something Three."

"Okay."

Four gave him a stern look and said "Please listen close. It's really important."

"I'm listening." Three playfully teased him by looking off to the side. "I'm serious Three!" He laughed and said "Alright Alright. I am 100% focused." Four sighed as he didn't know exactly how to say this. A monologue seemed kinda sappy, but he really wanted to sum up his experience for Three. Oh just forget it. "It's now or never Four..."

"Three, I know we didn't start out on the best terms. We hated each other from day 1 and it seemed like we would be enemies for life, but somehow we didn't. When we learned about our meme guardian connection, it made us closer and we showed each other how well we work as a team. But, I haven't just been here for you. You've been there for me."

"How we bonded during the heist, getting stuck in those TV parodies, and how you told me how you would always be there for me during the...incident. I haven't forgotten what you told me." Three listened intently to every word, holding back his words as Four smiled and intertwined their fingers. "But now I've realized, my feelings have grown stronger. I thought it was when I was with my friends, but it's you Three. I want us to be together, laugh together, hell even competing with each other like that. The point is...I-I love you Three."

As those words escaped his lips, the air around them felt thick. Three's eyes widened as Four gasped and shut his mouth. "Four...you do?" The blue eyed man then had flashbacks about the nightmare. He just had to open his big mouth. "I'M SORRY! I DON'T KNOW WHAT CAME OVER ME! I KNOW YOU HATE ME, BUT PLEASE DON'T PUSH ME OFF! I'M STUPID FOR THINKING THAT! I'VE RUINED EVERYTHING!" His body shook in fear as he covered his crying face with his hands.

Three quickly said "NO! That's not what I was going to say! I could never hate you! Really!" Four sniffed before cautiously lowered one hand. "You're not pulling on my leg are you?" Three slowly came over and softly held him. "No. Why would I say that after you told me just what I've been waiting so long to hear." Four felt his puffy eyes being replaced by pink, rosy cheeks. "Four...I've loved you for even longer! I've spent so many countless moments thinking about you, how you've change my life, but I ignored it because I was worried about what you would say."

Four felt his fears slowly fade away as their foreheads touched and they looked into each other's eyes. "I love you so much Smg4. So much you moron." Four was so overjoyed that he didn't hold back and pressed his lips against Three's. He jumped at the touch, but let himself melt into it as he wrapped his arms around Four and played with his hair. When they finally pulled back, Three asked "So...what do we say to the others. Are we boyfriends now?" Four giggled and said "I guess so.

Three looked back to the sky and said "It's getting late. We should go back before the others get worried." That was fine with Four. It was after midnight anyway. They walked back, hand in hand as Four laughed and told his new boyfriend "Pretty cliche how we confessed in Paris." Three rolled his eyes and said "Soooo cliche."

"I guess we're just Two Hearts In The City of Love."

Chapter 15: Sick Day

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

The Amazon Good Omens Press Release! :)

In a special celebration for fans, Neil Gaiman collaborated with superfans Hilly & Hannah Hindi of the The Hillywood Show to reveal the ineffable premiere date in their original video “Good Omens Parody”

Official Teaser Art Available HERE Fan-Created Parody Video Viewable HERE 

*NOTE TO EDITORS: Please refer to our streaming service as Prime Video and not Amazon Prime Video*

CULVER CITY, California—May 10, 2023—This summer, something’s going down in the up!Good Omens Season Two will  premiere July 28 on Prime Video. After the global success and enthusiastic response to the first season, co-creator Neil Gaiman is satisfying fans’ hunger for more on-screen  adventures of the beloved unholy duo with an entirely original story. The ineffable Season Two premiere date was revealed on the 33rd anniversary of the publishing of the original novel Good Omens: The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch by Terry Pratchett and Gaiman, which was the basis for the first season of the television series. As a special celebration for fans, Gaiman collaborated with superfans Hilly & Hannah Hindi of the The Hillywood Show to reveal the date in a fan-funded video, “Good Omens Parody,” which can be viewed HERE. The six-episode season will be released exclusively on Prime Video on July 28 in more than 240 countries and territories worldwide. Fans can catch up on the first season of Good Omens streaming now on Prime Video, part of the savings, convenience, and entertainment that Prime members enjoy in a single membership.

Season Two of Good Omens explores storylines that go beyond the original source material to illuminate the uncanny friendship between Aziraphale, a fussy angel and rare book dealer, and the fast-living demon Crowley. Having been on Earth since The Beginning, and with the Apocalypse thwarted, Aziraphale and Crowley are getting back to easy living amongst mortals in London’s Soho when an unexpected messenger presents a surprising mystery.

Good Omens Season Twostars Michael Sheen and David Tennant as angel Aziraphale and demon Crowley, respectively. Also reprising their roles are Jon Hamm as archangel Gabriel, Doon Mackichan as archangel Michael, and Gloria Obianyo as archangel Uriel. Returning this season in new roles are Miranda Richardson as demon Shax, Maggie Service as Maggie, and Nina Sosanya as Nina, with new faces joining the misfits in Heaven and Hell: Liz Carr as angel Saraqael, Quelin Sepulveda as angel Muriel, and Shelley Conn as demon Beelzebub.

Neil Gaiman continues as executive producer and co-showrunner along with executive producer Douglas Mackinnon, who also returned to direct all six episodes. Rob Wilkins of Narrativia, representing Terry Pratchett’s estate, John Finnemore, and BBC Studios Productions’ head of comedy Josh Cole also executive produce, with Finnemore serving as co-writer alongside Gaiman. Good Omens is based on the well-loved and internationally best-selling novel by Pratchett and Gaiman. The new season is produced by Amazon Studios, BBC Studios Productions, The Blank Corporation, and Narrativia.

ALL THE EPIZODES WILL BE RELEASED AT ONCE!!! 🥰🥳 WAHOO!

[number1aaronhater]

Zane headcanons because I love him Lets start with family

-Despite never meeting his father's standerds he looked up to him until he came out.. *Garte only let Zane even tranisiton because having another son looked better for the company.

-During childhood Zane was a tomboy, the only "Girly" thing he had was long hair. *He realised he was trans at age 12 and started socialy transistioning

-Garroth was Zane's biggest supporter. Defending him from bullies and trying his hardest to support his little brother.

-Zianna was probably the first to pick up on her son being trans before he even fully came out to her *Zane was bad at hiding the fact he's trans.

-Vylad was 10 and didn't fully understand why Zane was now a boy but he only cared that he wasn't going to have to get the stupid girl hand me downs he got from Zane *Zane and Vylad probably got along the most as teens for their shared gender queerness.

-Garte was the harsher on Zane, he had high expectations for garroth and had even higher expectations for Zane. *Garte thought if Zane wants to be a boy he's going to have to work for it.

*Yes Garte sucks ass but what do you expect.

Moving on from family we have school. This section includes PDH and FCU.

-Durning middle school Zane was bullied by the guys for liking childish games, and the girls didn't want to be his friend because he "left girlhood"

-By highschool Zane was an outcast, and a loner

-Zane never really made friends spending his time in school working or playing games on free periods.

-Zane spent his freshman year at O'khasis Prep and only changed schools due to a mandertory sport ellective and to the fact that he would be living on campus. *Zane was apart of the Jury of Nine on the campus and was feared

-When he transfered to PDH he already had a reputation of being cruel from his time at OKP and people rarely spoke to him.

-He often ignored people and/or threatened them when people bothered him.

-He graduated a year early and took a gap year to work on his art profolio.

-Despite ignoring Travis durning school, Zane made an effort to go to each and every one of the boys plays.

-Zane went to FCU and took most of his classes online.

-Zane majored in art and had overlaping classes with Travis and Aphmau.

-Zane slowly got closer to the pair, and Travis was especially clingly since after Zane gradutated he stopped keeping in contact as much.

-Zane made a modeling account after finding out Travis had one and posted parody posts mocking Travis. *Travis was extremly embarresed when Aph showed him the posts.

-This plan did backfire because people ended up really liking Zane's posts

*People didn't know it was Zane due to the fact he had his mask off and was wearing more form fitting clothes. *Zane got even more popular when he wore his binder and shorts and showed off his vitiligo.

-Zane did a photoshoot with Travis when Aphmau begged him too, and the photoshoot was featured on Aphmau's vlog causing everyone at FCU to who watched the vlog now know that Zane did modeling.

-Zane stopped posted because of how much he blew up and stopped going to inperson classes due to the amount of people trying to talk to him. okay i've been writing for a bit to long so i'll stop here, I do have way more headcanons.

Quick edit, I saw a post on hear and it feed my brainrot

-Okay so the post was abou religous veils and it briefly mentioned that their still used in MyS and it fueled something.

-Zane was apart of the Jury of Nine and as the high priest I imagine he wears veils daily. *Zane wears veils for different ocasions, and his mask often matches his veil.

-PDH not being a religous school, Zane was told first day to take it off as full face masks are reserved for high standing priests. *Zane got to wear his full face veil because due to being the high priest at OKP he was fully ordained.

-Zane to freak students out will say random things in Latin.

That's it for my update.

Edit #2

Okay so quick edit because my brain can't stop.

What if Zane went to OKP all of high school, his first ever interaction being the forced family hangout with the Ro'meaves and Aphmau's family.

The interaction went something like this

As mom left with Zianna I was left awkwardly staring at the three brothers infront of me. I could feel my arm burning as I scratched and picked at my arm. Garroth all smiles and shyness just gave me a small awkward smile. Vylad gave me a weak shrug and the last boy I hadn't seen before. He was wearing a flower of the matron necklace and was playing with it in his hand. He wore a mask, and a full face veil which confused me more. Only high-priests wore full face veils. The boy looked up from his necklace and glared at me his black eyes boring into mine.

Please excuse any grammar mistakes, it's literally 12 AM sooooo... Hope you enjoy.

[siderealscribblings]

99 years, 11 months, 27 days

“Esteemed subjects, we come before you today to reaffirm the pledge we made nearly a century ago. For a hundred years, we have pledged ourselves to the constant defense of Fontaine and Her blessed waters and for a hundred years, our people have enjoyed peace in the wake of the cataclysmic Cataclysm...did I really write cataclysmic Cataclysm?”

Furina sighed, scratching a line of her speech out as she sat perched on the edge of her writing desk. “In the wake of the...theeeee....disastrous! Disastrous Cataclysm? No, still sounds repetitive…let’s see…in the wake of the… disastrous aftermath of the fall of Khaenri'ah?”

Furina cleared her throat, standing up to look at herself in the mirror. “Esteemed subjects, we come before you today to reaffirm the pledge we made nearly  a century ago.”

Furina raised her hand, frowning at the gesture and tilting her palm back a little. By now, she had a repertoire of gestures she used when expressing herself as Focalors; grand, sweeping motions that never felt right but seemed to entrance her subjects. It was hard to tell when she crossed the line into parody, so she tucked her elbow in a little closer, praying it was just enough to look convincing.

“For a hundred years, we have pledged ourselves to the constant defense of Fontaine and Her blessed waters and for a hundred years, our people have enjoyed peace in the wake of the disastrous aftermath of the fall of Khaenri'ah,” Furina said, wrinkling her nose.

Too wordy, she thought. Half the audience would be half-listening anyway, eager to get to one of thousands of parties, sporting events, and performances that were taking place in Fontaine. Champion duelists from across the country were gathering to fight in a tournament where the prize was a single pearl from Furina's necklace. Actors, theater troupes, and singers from across the world would grace the Opera Epiclese's stage in a round-the-clock series of performances. The Archon's household was hosting three increasingly lavish galas culminating in Furina's hundredth birthday, but citizens across the country would be celebrating her anniversary for a whole week. Gardes had booked tavern backrooms months in advance for their parties, apartments overlooking the parade route were rented out for exorbitant sums of mora, and Mondstadt had sold Fontaine so much wine, whiskey, and beer in the last few months that they were finally able to finance a wall around Mondstadt City.

Everyone else was looking forward to a week without work; all Furina had to look forward to was the grandest performance of her career.

It's not just humans I have to fool now, Furina thought. Liyue was sending adepti who knew Egeria personally and if Rex Lapis wasn't among them, she would eat her hat and owe Neuvillette ten mora. Yae Miko had spent nights kissing an Archon's bare skin; surely she would take one look at Furina and know she was a fraud. And then there was the delegation from Snezhnaya; two sorcerers that raised hell and plumbed the mysteries of the cosmos before Furina was even born. 

Threats she had kept away for so long would now sleep under her roof and try as she might, she couldn't enjoy her last night of peace. Instead, she found herself pacing back and forth in her nightgown, obsessing over every line in her speech and trying to make each passage perfect.

If I get any sleep at all this week, it will be a miracle, Furina thought, finally moving on to the next line of her speech. “Egeria's blessed children have emerged from the shadow of Our Beloved Mother's death to become technological forerunners, economic titans, and the finest artists in the world... okay, that'll do I suppose.”

Furina's eyes wandered over to the pile of presents she had been unwrapping all week. She tried to pace herself, giving herself little treats to look forward to as the preparations for the centennial consumed her whole days. Time spent with Neuvillette was limited to hurried business lunches in the company of others and late dinners before bed. He had been consumed with his own preparations, shouldering some of the more tedious tasks like reviewing diplomatic credentials, screening her birthday gifts, and working on a present of his own that he refused to discuss no matter how large and watery Furina made her eyes.

He's developing an immunity, Furina thought, picking up a box on top of the pile and nearly dropping it as she saw the pale white snowflake emblem of the Tsaritsa stamped on the lid. 

Read More...

[jagawriterr]

Pairing: Celtic x (fem! Assasin) Reader Word count: 4545 Warnings: Violence, blood, NSFW (+18 only), unprotected sex, pregnant. A/N: Thank you the request @reiketsunomizunomegami I really like your idea and I tried my best to meets your expectations. Masterlist

You adjusted your swords, gleaming in the sunlight, for the last time, zipped up all possible fasteners on your jacket, and took your first steps on the frozen ground of Antarctica. Realm of eternal ice.

Amidst the harsh winds and heavy snowfalls, one shape lurked slowly across the wasteland. You were walking in heavy snow boots, but the trace of them almost disappeared after a short while. The march continued and you were surrounded only by frost and the whistle of the wind.

Alone.

In a dead world, in a sliding march, step by step. You've studied the map so much that even if you had it with you, it wouldn't do any good in such a wasteland. You don't know how long you marched like that, in silence, you didn't count it, because it didn't matter much. Your energy grew with each step. The feeling of endless emptiness and the sound of the wind in your ears caused your instinct to slowly open up to the surroundings. He gave the impression that he would soon be useful for something. It will put you into a state of numbness, or the desire to chase an unknown threat that you will eventually find.

The toil made no impression on you, because you knew you were close. The closest you've ever come to discovering what you were really called to do. You were a killer, the best at your trade, there was only one reason for being here in this endless icy desert. Killing. It was your only satisfaction, the only way to finally be yourself. You adjusted your swords again, you could feel the snow tearing through them and the whistle of the wind that was blowing hard through your bare, jet-black hair.

The road you took to your destination was arduous. In the land of the eternal day, time lost its meaning. The snow crackled underfoot like the sound of broken bones, and the wind howled like the damned. From time to time you looked around this endless desert covered with eternal snow and did not believe that this journey could be so long and arduous. The sun seemed to shine with redoubled power.

The snow reflected the light, and the wind had no protection against it, and you couldn't really see anything but what you could see right in front of you. You squinted your eyes as you felt the snow invading your eyes, making itself in every crevice of the exposed skin of your face. Despite all this, you had to keep walking. You had to wade through this endless disorder and chaos to finally reach the Ancient Pyramid, which was your goal from the very beginning of your journey.

You were in the middle of the white wasteland, the wind had stopped, the snow glistened reflecting the light of the sun that emerged from behind the storm clouds. The storm had subsided, and only the furious red sun remained on the horizon. It warmed the patches of your face, enveloping you with its light.

Night has come. The gale returned with it, and again the ice crystals stormed every crevice of your costume. The howling came back and became even more twisted, surrounding you on all sides and getting closer all the time. You felt like it was playing with you. An indescribable clatter of primal instinct fused into a powerful parody of something beyond the human imagination.

It couldn't be the cry of an entity known to nature, the whistles of the whipping wind only reinforced the unreal feeling that drove you insane. The awareness that it was close made your vigilance increased. You snapped out of your body's numbness and reached for your swords. The whistle of the wind joined with the whistling of sword blades that cut the space like razor blades. The snow was falling gently on the hilts of the swords you held tightly in your gloved hands.

It spun around as if trying to sense the prey and at the same time trying to surround it. You were stung by that howl, but you didn't buckle under the pressure of different sounds, growls, moans and whistles of the wind rushing into your ears. You were balancing between reason and instinct.

It's that simple. Bend the knees, straighten the blades of the swords, and strike. You were replaying the sequence in your head when you heard the swish again, but closer this time. You felt a tingle on your skin, the blade of one of your swords trembled, you knew that in a moment, he would attack. Your attitude changed, you were alert, despite the gusting wind, the whistle in your ears and the snow falling into your eyes, your instinct sharpened, and your imagination suggested all sorts of shapes of this something that was swirling behind the curtain of snow and ice falling on the frosty ground.

You curled your toes, tightened your grip on the blades of your swords. Your eyes and hearing followed the sounds of the creature that tossed between you and the thickly falling snow. There was a sudden silence, the wind stopped and your body went numb with the cold. You wandered again where consciousness mixed with imagination, for just one moment. And it only took a moment.

He hit you hard. You didn't have time to dodge when his body pressed against you and sent you falling into a snowdrift. You screamed, but in this dark white desert no one can hear you scream. It's just you and him. The only guests in this icy darkness.

Snow fell into your eyes, you felt an impenetrable cold that was unlike anything you had felt before. You stood up quickly, feeling this was your only chance to finally attack. You were closer to his meaty body than you really thought. You could feel his heavy breathing, the snow bending under his feet. His steps betrayed him, and even though the wind and snow kept you apart, you knew he was there.

Your mind was clear now. You knew exactly where to hit, in the stomach area. It passed through the snow and frost like a shadow, perfectly adapting to its surroundings, testing you, your skills and even your wits and strategy. You didn't betray yourself, with one move your swords passed through the fleshy body, which stopped right in front of you for a split second.

You looked at him, a little in shock maybe a little in disbelief, but you were aware that he was not of this world and that's why you are here. It was your mission that led you to this icy wasteland they call Antarctica. The search finally brought the first harvest. Impaled by your two swords, the xenomorph writhed in agony. The sound of wind and snow was interrupted by a loud clatter from the mouth of the black monster. His jaw moved one last time before giving up the ghost.

***

You were making your way through a hill covered with snow and ice. You stood on a ridge where the glow of the pyramid you were looking for shimmered in iridescent reflections of light. This artifact left by the Ancients saw many things and held many secrets and creatures like the one you fought two days ago.

The feeling that it was all just beginning still haunted you and despite your discipline, you felt a lump in your throat. The sunlight was hitting your eyes with all its force. Despite the cold, you could feel the excitement spreading through your body the closer you got to your goal. The closer you got to the Pyramid, the more agitated you felt and thirsted for more blood. Adrenaline in your body began to buzz, circulate in your veins, your heart began to beat faster, and you breathed faster. You were walking along the fissure towards one of the shores of the stone Pyramid. In the depths of the desert white plain, you saw nothing but a white fluff that gently floated as the wind pressed against it. You shivered as you reached the entrance to the building.

***

It was damp and warm inside, the stone-clad walls took on a dark depth of the room that made you feel uncomfortable. Huge statues flanked the entrance, holding torches that gently illuminated the room. The cold entering the large hall stopped you for a moment. You shivered as you felt someone's presence. You knew that there were more of these creatures and you were aware that they could attack again. You were impressed by them, you didn't think that fighting them would be so exciting and that's why you wanted more of it. More of that adrenaline that was still pounding in your veins. And you even stopped being bothered by the unbearable cold that covered your whole body, from your toes to the very top of your head.

***

Walking along the forked corridors, you remembered the plans of the building, thanks to which you could explore the secrets of underground passages and corridors that led to the deepest places of the pyramid. You heard the murmurs, moans of the whipping wind in the cracks of the icy walls, the howl you heard two days ago was back, it was soft, but with every step you took it came closer and closer to you. They already knew you were here. They felt your presence, the softness of your body, its warmth and vibration.

You felt the ground tremble with each step you took. You reached for your swords, your hands gripping the hilts tightly. At first, you heard only the steady thud of your boots, but with each step you took, you felt that you were falling right into the middle of the battlefield. You saw a bunch of xenomorphs that invariably attacked the powerful stranger.

It was the second the black creature hit you in the side, it was enough to make you tense like a string. Being here, you joined the group of warriors who fought against monsters that wanted to occupy the entire pyramid area, and maybe even spread to the entire continent, or even worse, the entire planet. You've realized this is a war you're already a part of. Your swords did their duty, cutting the fleshy flesh of your enemies to pieces, and yellow gore and guts began to fill the stone floor.

You clenched your jaw and let out a breath. You hit one of them, the clamor spread around, steam billowed from its jaws, and its body and tail thrashed relentlessly as you impaled it on one of your swords. You pressed against him, finally pinning him against the icy wall. With nothing to lose, you struck the final blow that killed the monster.

***

This time it hit him, he doubled over from the hit in the stomach, finally moved and staggered around the hall. He didn't have time to realize that the xenomorph wrapped its tail around his leg and threw it hard on the ground. It clattered against his back, the armor around his chest protecting him. He rolled onto his stomach, knelt, then got up and was knocked to the ground again. With clumsy movements, he got up, but again the monster knocked him to the ground. It took him off the ground a few meters and he fell with a clatter to the cold floor of the hall. The xenomorph's cry of triumph came from his throat, crashing into him with such force that Yautja shot air from the mouth, which was tightly covered by the mask. He tried to roll onto his stomach, he felt pain and cold, and just when he thought it was over, he saw a woman rushing at the monster that wanted to deal the finishing blow. He heard the crack and knew she had snapped him in the middle, saw her kill him in cold blood as she turned to him and stared at him with her unreadable gaze, searching them for some of the empathy that was so characteristic of the human race. He saw nothing in them but emptiness and an icy stare. Again, he felt something grab him by the ankle, as if a steel cable had wrapped around his leg and he was being pulled upward. Then he heard a crack and wondered if it was his bones or if the ground was cracking from being tossed around like a rag doll. He was able to see only the arm, and actually the entire torso, and soon after he lost consciousness.

***

You saw the long tail writhing under the Predator's feet, which finally picked it up and started tossing it around like a doll, you heard the crack of breaking bones. The sight made you open your eyes wide, but not sparing a moment, you ran towards the enemy and hit him with your shoulder, so that he could lose his balance and he fell to the ground. You pressed against him even though he was resisting. You saw the Predator, who lay lifeless on the ground, you felt it was necessary, finally you managed to overcome the thrill of excitement and gave him a fatal blow to the head. There was silence, moans and howls ceased, and the xenomorph's head hit the floor to become your next trophy. "Fuck," you said to yourself as you saw the Predator lying motionless, battered and bruised, bright green blood flowing from his wounds. This time you had no idea what to do, but you certainly wouldn't leave him to his fate

You tried to get him off the ground, but you weren't strong enough to do it. His body was limp, he slowly regained consciousness when you wanted to take his mask off your face out of curiosity. He took your hands in yours, you sucked air into your mouth as you saw him remove the mask from his face by himself to get rid of unnecessary ballast. After a moment you saw him, the little spikes on his lower jaws arranged neatly in a row, from smallest to largest. His small eyes looked at you with a curiosity that has never been as strong as now. Your face was shrouded in a light mist of dew and the steam you exhaled made him see you out of focus, but he was captivated by your beauty. The flawless red of your cheeks, strands of hair unruly coming out from under the hat and jacket.

You helped him up, his body was giving him a hard time. The wounds hurt like hell, but he had to get up to at least try to move. He fell. You supported him, you helped him as best you could, and wanting to help him, you decided to find shelter so that you could heal him. You always had a bandage kit in your jacket pockets that you might be able to cover his wounds with.

After carefully considering which way you needed to go, and finding your way to safety in your memory, you took his arm again and walked slowly towards the nearest fork in the tunnels. Another turn, then right, then left, and right again, and you were finally there. Nobody will find you here.

With each passing minute he felt worse and worse, but you reassured him that you would be able to heal him. You took care of him the best you could. You laid him gently on the ground, leaning against the cold stone wall. His jaws slowly moved to different sounds that you couldn't quite decipher. You looked at his wounds, which were oozing more and more blood. You pulled out all the medical kit you had and began to slowly bandage his wounds.

You gripped his ankle gently, dousing it with hydrogen peroxide and bandaging it, as you do with every other wound on his body. This is the first time you've seen such a strange creature. You'd mistake him for a human in stature, but upon closer inspection his skin was completely different. Strong, thick and brown, slightly mottled in places. At the most sensitive areas of the body, the spots were larger and brighter. His chest moved slowly in time with his heartbeat. He shivered when he felt your hands on his belly. It was velvety to the touch, those parts of his body more delicate than the rest. You took off his shoulder pads, shin guards, plasma cannon, and the remnants of his breastplate. From his mouth seemed to hear a slight scratching, moaning. Despite the fire that was smoldering around you, he was damn cold. You covered him with your thick, down jacket.

Time passed, day after day, and only the moving sun clearly announced the process. A storm was raging outside, the moans and whistling of the wind reaching your ears, tearing through the cracks in the thick walls that shielded you from the world. In the distance, you heard a howl, a steady rumble, moans of slaughtered animals and a loud roar of a plane taking off. You walked to the crack in the wall and looked at the sky, among the blowing frosty wind and snow, you managed to see only white lights shining in the dark sky, shrouded in storm clouds. Their brilliance blinded you, made you feel uncomfortable, and when you looked at your companion you realized that they were his brothers. They gone. They flew off with a boom of unimaginably high notes that made your ears ring. Blood swelled at your temples and you felt a headache. You sat next to him, shrouded in the light glow of a dream that slowly nestled in your mind. You closed your eyes, trying hard not to fall asleep but finally gave up.

You woke up very early, checked his wounds while he was still asleep. You carefully studied his face covered in wrinkles and small spikes. His mandibles moved calmly, his eyes half-closed moved with sleep. And then you saw something more in him. Something special that made you feel incredibly blissful and peaceful. Your senses were failing you in his presence, the awareness that he was here was dizzying. It made you drown in your dreams of him and you knew he felt it too. You saw him open his eyes slowly, look at you and see you take off your thick sweatshirt. Your nipples, slightly purple in their protrusion from the cold, invaded his memory, his eyes flashed. You saw fireflies in his irises, and his pupils dilated quickly, he jumped up suddenly, hissed under the pain that hit him. He saw your breasts so velvety, so perfect, he took them in his hands. You felt the cold of the room and the warmth of his fingers penetrating your folds. Your euphoric body screamed and more, craved that touch.

Moans of the wind mixed with your breath, shrouded in a haze of pleasure and desire for more. More of those caresses, more of his hands caressing your breasts, his liquid thick skin that made you shiver. He snuggled his head into your bare breasts, slipped his tongue out of his jaws and slowly began to lick your nipples hardened with cold and excitement. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing. You felt his whole body as his tongue roamed your wet and naked skin. A wave of heat took over your whole body, you moaned with pleasure staring at his fleshy tongue leaving wet traces on your naked skin.

This fire consumed you completely, dragged you into the depths of euphoria and lust. He grabbed you by the waist, exhaling air from his mouth, looked at your ecstatic face and slowly took off the rest of the clothes that remained on your body. You knew it was going to end like this, the atmosphere in the room was getting so thick you could cut it with a knife, and you and he slowly felt the irresistible need to get to know each other. Your feelings changed for him, and the tenderness he greeted you in his arms was like coming home. His calm and steady breathing soothed you, and you were still engulfed by the fire that was forming in your intestines and driving you crazy.

You were naked when he took off the codpiece and the rest of his armor that covered his hips. You looked at him, sitting in front of you and inviting you into a world of pleasure. You sat astride it, your body felt the impenetrable cold that enveloped you all awakening you from the stupor. You leaned against his chest, grabbed his cock and felt a huge wave of excitement as he entered you all. Finally, your body tense like a string let go, you curled your toes, tightened your buttocks and began to move to the tune of your hearts. The wind did not stop whistling between the cracks, and individual snowflakes fell into the room, to melt after a while on the ground or your hot skin.

Your movements slowly got faster, he gripped your buttocks hard and you felt him penetrating you hard with his big and swollen cock. His face expressed it all, light wrinkles accentuating his ecstasy, a soft clicking turned into a loud growl and wheezing. He tightened his grip on your buttocks and began to slowly take the initiative, moving your hips faster and faster. A loud moan escaped your lips and an explosion of euphoria made you feel your folds bursting with the feeling that you were about to explode. Your pussy tightens around his circumference, causing him to thrust into you with increasing force. Tension alternately comes and goes, sweat breaks through the folds of your body and heat spreads all over your insides. Hish's claws dig deeper into your buttocks, you feel the tension build up in your gut and slowly trickle down towards your temple. Your breathing quickens again, the energetic hip movements slow down, become sloppy, and you feel your core fill with ecstasy. You know that this is the moment, this force that is not worth fighting with, but surrender without a fight and stay in this feeling even though you want even more. You feel the orgasm fill your core as your pussy tightens around its circumference, feel the walls of it as it enters and exits without remorse as it finally loses its grip and tightens its grip on your waist, squeezing your body tighter. Leaning against his chest, you feel him filling you with his life-giving juice. The energy slowly leaves you, sits on it, exhaling hot air from your mouth, steam settles on the stone walls of the room, forming small droplets of water.

The fire was dying out and the sun was already over the horizon. You heard a sudden bang and thud, you quickly got up from the ground, dressed and ran out of the room. You didn't expect to find what you saw there, and it was a huge ship that landed near the pyramid, and from it emerged creatures unknown to you. You looked at them more closely as Hish, still slightly limping, approached you. Celtic mumbled something under his breath, pointing at the ship with his finger. He approached one of his kinsmen to report everything that had happened after the last ship left the planet. The Alien Predator looked at you with disapproval, the Other Predators looked at you with contempt in their eyes, and you, adjusting your swords on your back, felt that you had to be careful. They also did not welcome your Predator with enthusiasm, they even rejected it. They were stunned when they discovered what really happened in the pyramid. How much Celtic felt despised and abandoned by his own people could be seen from his very attitude. The helmet hid his face, but you could feel the fumes of resentment towards his companions.

He decided to take you with him and, sparing no time, he dragged you on board the ship, which you flew above the clouds and flew to his home planet. Celtic knew perfectly well that when he really told everything about you and how you killed all the xenomorphs, he would regain the trust of his tribe. In this way, he will regain the respect of his clan, and you will be able to join him by becoming his companion.

You felt subconsciously that what you were doing was not easy, but making Celtic happy was your dream. You've fallen in love with him since you met, you felt like it wasn't possible, but it was, that feeling of emptiness that still haunted you was gone. All that's left is the euphoria of that close-up and the memory you'll never get rid of. The sight of him, when he stunned you, his every move made you feel shivers on your skin. The other you are gone, cold, emotionless, now you are a completely different woman. Just as strong and powerful, but with more feelings and emotions that made you love everything on Celtic's home planet.

You've been here for a year. Your life looks completely different than the one you led on Earth. Here your life was much simpler, you proved yourself worthy of belonging to the clan and you were bound to it. You loved each other more than anything else, and your journeys to distant lands delighted you. You saw the star-studded sky, the nebulae tearing through the void of space, and his hot and naked body making waves of excitement ripple through you.

***

Your big belly has been visible since he left the stack after the last mission. He walked over to you, snuggling into your velvety body. A soft moan escaped his jaws, touched your belly, and looked up at your beaming smile. He knew you were happy, he was so proud of you for proving yourself to the great council, and he loved you like no one else had ever loved before.

The day of the birth was coming. All you could hear in the area was your screams and moans, which shattered the silence to pieces. You were lying on the bed, in front of you was a Yautja woman medic. Your sweaty and wrinkled face was reddened by the intense cramps and fatigue that had let you down suddenly and without warning. You sighed as she told you to push again. The sheets on the bed turned red, your pain was all you felt, and her hands held the head of the slowly emerging baby. Giving birth was the biggest challenge of your life and nothing was like the pain that tore you apart as the babies slowly came out of you one by one. There were four of them. Little bundles that screamed beyond their strength when Di'dta finally placed them next to you. Three gorgeous boys and one beautiful girl were your whole world and you never expected it all to lead to this place. Celtic moved closer to you, your body sticky with sweat, cupped your face and kissed your forehead gently. He looked at your children and smiled at them.

You were family.

[collabwithmyself]

More Pikmin AU writing yahoo!

Maybe fifteen minutes later, Hito finally shoves open the escape hatch. He gets a glimpse of greenery before overbalancing and toppling out onto the soil.

The tumble doesn't do his aching body any favors. His head spins, and his mouth starts to water like he might get sick. Dirt crunches beneath his body as he rolls over, looking up at the sky and what's left of his ship.

It's smoking and seared, looking like a skeletal parody of its former self. It's a miracle it's even partway recognizable. Hito cringes.

According to the pack attached to the back of his suit, he's got thirty days' worth of battery before it stops filtering the air for him. One month to put his ship back together enough to send a distress signal, or better yet, take off entirely.

It feels horrifically daunting. Even thinking about it intensifies his nausea. He has no idea where to even start looking, let alone how he'll get any of that heavy machinery back to the ship...

But he can't just give up. If he dies alone here, with no one having any idea where he went, then... that means...

...

Hito grits his teeth, digs his fingers into the earth, and gets up.

Gravity weighs heavily on him here. He doesn't think it's safe to even jump, with the state of his sore body right now. It's with agonizing slowness that he plods forward, squinting into the wilderness.

The flora here is... huge. Mere blades of grass tower over him. He can make out flowers thrice his height, not far off. It makes him feel like he's found himself the size of a bug in his own backyard. It's not a comforting notion.

His steps are hesitant as he gazes around, pointed ears pricked for sounds. If the plants here are this big, the animals aren't something he wants to run into.

He's so busy looking up, he doesn't notice the object half-buried in front of him. Well, not until it erupts violently from the earth, spraying dirt every which way and pulling a shriek from Hito's throat. He stumbles back and flings his arms over his face as long limbs snake out, jabbing into the dirt on either side of him.

...then it goes still. Hito hesitates, and slowly raises his head.

Above him is a plantlike contraption the size of his body. The shape and bright red shade make him think of an onion. Three green stalks suspend it in the air, several units above his head.

It jolts, and Hito yelps, stumbling back several paces. He gets a glimpse of white petals on top of the onion as they curl inwards- then they spit something into the air.

He watches the object descend to the ground and bury itself in the dirt. His gaze flicks between the onion and its spawn, and he startles a third time when said spawn abruptly sprouts.

The leaf is maybe the size of his hand, swaying gently in the breeze as though beckoning him forward. Hito, frankly, has no idea what to do with it. Should he take a closer look? Is it bait so the onion can eat him? He's wasting daylight, deliberating over this...

Curiosity wins out over self preservation. Hito creeps closer to the onion and the sprout, muscles tensed and eyes wide. When the great structure doesn't move again, he kneels to examine its creation.

The leaf is startlingly warm when he reaches for it, radiating heat like a fire that he can feel even through his glove. He hesitates, but presses a hand against it.

It twitches. Like it's alive. Hito jerks his arm away with a gasp.

But nothing crawls out of the dirt towards him. The sprout remains where it is.

He reaches out a second time, for the stem. The plant twitches again, like it's nudging itself into his touch. His fingers curl around it.

Then, gently, he pulls.

The earth parts around the sprout, revealing a bulb the same color as the onion above him. It's got a sharp protrusion, and he moves his arm so it doesn't slice his suit open-

Just above it, two little eyes crack open and blink at him.

Hito blinks back.

"Um," he says.

The sprout squeaks at him.

It doesn't... seem to be trying to bite him, or wriggling out of the dirt to claw at him. So after a moment's hesitation, he keeps pulling.

The dirt parts around spindly little arms, a thick torso, and squat legs- then he's got a full creature dangling from his hands, looking remarkably like a red carrot with a nose. It doesn't fight him at all, dangling placidly from his grasp.

"...good afternoon?" Hito tries.

"Ihwo!" the sprout squeaks back.

He sets it on his feet, then grunts as he straightens up. The creature watches him curiously, its stem flopping over to hang behind it.

"Right, um..." Hito feels the urge to wring his hands, and instead folds his arms to trap his fingers under his armpits.

The sprout tilts its head. "Haa?"

"It's... nice to meet you? But uh, ha, I'm... kinda busy right now," Hito chuckles nervously. "So... I gotta go. Haha."

"Ih."

So Hito turns to examine the area, figuring the creature will just... wander off. Just grass and rocks, and the smoldering remains of his ship...

...wait. There's smoke trailing from just over the stone ledges walling him in. Could that be...?

His gaze roves over the clearing, searching for some spot he can climb over. But the only break in the stone is shielded by a giant wall of... something.

He heads over to it, testing its strength. Though the wall towers over him, when he scrapes his fingertips against it, it lets out the unmistakable hiss of a cardboard surface.

Is this a box? It's got a little give when Hito throws a shoulder up against it, but there's no way he's moving it alone. He'd need the strength of ten men.

"Huh?"

Hito swears and whirls around. The sprout has followed him like a puppy, standing at attention a couple paces behind him.

"Stars, bud," he sighs, "don't scare me like that. What's up, huh?"

The creature glances back towards the onion, which has remained still, looming over the clearing.

"...you need something?" Hito prompts. When the creature doesn't reply, he starts walking back towards the structure, and the flowers surrounding it. The sprout trails along eagerly behind him.

The onion doesn't respond when he places a hand on one of its legs. And there's no way he's climbing up to its main structure.

"There more of you guys in there?" Hito asks the creature at his heels. "Ha, maybe they can help me move that box."

"Unh," the sprout replies.

"Right," he says, as though that made any sense.

He gets bolder with his attempts to jostle the onion into releasing another seed. The sprout watches with what he suspects is amusement as he tries to shove at the support legs.

"Come on, please," he grumbles, "just gimme something to work with--!"

One frustrated kick has him hopping backwards in pain, and he falls back against the stem of one of the flowers blooming above him. The petals rustle, then--

Hito yelps as something thuds into the dirt right in front of him. It's like a giant seed. Did that come from the flower...?

Before he can get up to examine it, though, the sprout darts towards it, seizing it and starting to drag it towards the onion with little high-pitched grunts. Hito watches it work in bewilderment- it's a startling change from following him around.

As it drags the seed beneath the onion... a light shines down like a tractor beam. In an instant, the seed is sucked up, and Hito looks up as the onion's petals finally curl again. It spits out one leaf, then another, and he watches the sprouts float down to plant themselves.

"...huh," he says.

Somewhere in the very back of Hito's mind, a plan begins to form.

[the-wonder-of-ep]

Happy two year anniversary to the movie that legitimately changed my life❤️

I don’t know where I’d be now if I hadn’t gone to see Baz Luhrman’s Elvis. I’ve grown so much over the last two years, so much closer to being the confident, independent and truest version of myself I’ve always wanted to be. I wouldn’t have been able to do that without Elvis…and I wouldn’t have Elvis in my life if it weren’t for this film.

I’m a 90s baby: I grew up at a time where every film and TV series—be it live action, animated or even anime— parodied Elvis in some way. It was impossible not to think of him as a caricature. My parents were fans, especially my dad, but it’s one thing to hear Blue Suede Shoes as a kid and another entirely to understand just how much Elvis changed the world. It’s even harder to see the man beneath the image, when the image itself has been distorted so wildly out of proportion. The narrative for most of us millennials was this: Elvis was a controversial rebel in his day, more beautiful than words can describe…but he let himself go to drugs and overeating and died of a heart attack. That’s what pop culture of the time was like. I hate it now, looking back, because it affected our opinions of him. We were born after he passed. We didn’t know any better.

Fast forward twenty plus years: I see this movie and I realize how wrong I was about him. How human he was. How trapped he felt. How much he lost. I could relate to a lot of that. I still can. All of a sudden, I’m mourning this man I never met, this friend I made over the last two-something hours and I just can’t wrap my head around it. I need to know more. So I begin digging. Reading. Listening to his music, watching his concerts and movies. I meet people in this community, his community — some my age, some younger, some old—and I realize I’m not alone. Elvis is still so dear to so many people, and he’s still changing lives forty-seven years after his death. That Elvis magic is a power thing. I’m still getting used to it.

Now, he feels like the most important part of my life, and it warms my heart to know that no matter what, the real Elvis and all he accomplished will never be forgotten. We won’t let that happen❤️

[rawliverandgoronspice]

If Ganondorf was lying to anyone during that Wind Waker speech, he’d be lying to himself. The gerudo desert was indeed harsh, and Hyrule sucked during his time, but legit everything he did in Ocarina of Time is completely unjustifiable, except for the murder of the King of Hyrule. The man sat in luxury for 7 years with monsters surrounding the land, while his people remained in the desert. Yet at the end of the day, he believed that he had every right to do all of that.

Self-justification isn’t a trait that’s outright noticeable with Ganondorf, but Wind Waker puts it out in the open and shows that yes, the self proclaimed “King of Evil” truly believes he’s deserving of the world, and that his circumstances justify his crimes.

I feel like the fandom misses that while Ganondorf may not be this complex 5d villain, he still carries an interesting amount of traits like this

Hey, thanks for the ask!! I'm sorry, I haven't slept in over 24h and felt particularly rhapsodic today so uhhhh sorrryyyyy for being cringe about my little guyyyyyy (and the approximate use of English language that might ensue)

So yeah, I think there's absolutely a huge part of that, trying to make sense of the violently absurd situation he found himself in, a monster and one of the last people who remembers Hyrule and how it was destroyed, and rationalizing to himself why it is not meaningless.

I have to say, not to be uhhh a parody of myself, but I think it could be a little bit more complicated than that (all of it being interpretations of the text that I don't think canon entirely backs always, but my point is that it could be read out of it).

If Ganondorf wanted any meaningful chance to reshape his own reality, then there's no doing that without access to the Triforce. If he had wanted to go for the King's head and nothing else, he would have been stopped immediately by everybody who do have access to shards of the keys to the Sacred Realm (not to mention how trigger happy Zelda was about wishing ????? something to the Triforce about erasing him in some form). I don't think it would have been reasonable to aim for anything but the Triforce as a military goal --not to mention that his beef is half with Hyrule, and half with the Goddesses themselves for considering the gerudos beneath them in some form and for some reason (which becomes even more apparent and deranged in Wind Waker, as part of why he can't let go of Hyrule in my opinion is because their intervention was so violent he simply cannot wrap his head around it and, as usual, Will Not Be Defeated >:((( because he's that kind of bitter little shithead, which I uhhhh relate to a little too much maybe). And then, well. You can't exactly ask for the Triforce and be nice about it, right?

I'm not saying he wasn't gleefully horrible about it the entire time, but I can absolutely see a case of him being self-centered enough to see each of his actions as the necessary (or righteous/vengeful) next step to get closer to his goals, and one thing leads to the other, and after seven years of strife, well, the kingdom you wanted to rule is a pile of rubble, ash and misery you enforced at every step, and oops! You have alienated absolutely everyone who aren't your weird moms!

There's a ton of things to say about the many interpretations that could be made of his relationship to the gerudos so I won't over-expand on that, but, uhhhh yeah he probably used them, or at the very least ruled them with an iron fist to enforce his own power he believed unquestionnable (even if the goal was genuinely to do things for their sake, which in my opinion could still be argued --Hyrule is a big nightmare place during his reign, but the Valley is the only location basically untouched with arguably Kakariko after all).

To be honest, I think TP Ganondorf is more accursed with a sense of self-justification than WW Ganon, who has a surprising amount of clarity on his own motives (to restate my tags on a post I just reblogged: I don't think "I coveted this wind, I suppose" is particularly self-pitying, it's soberingly self-aware if anything). TP Ganon is the one who's obsessed with divine purpose and considering himself a weird take on the Chosen One.

But yeah, I think... To be completely honest, I sometimes feel like Ganondorf's potential (!!! not actual execution, very important to draw this distinction) is just kind of too large for the IP that birthed him? The full breadth of his complexity cannot be explored in a setting that demands he merely generates a simple conflict that doesn't seriously question the status quo while everything about him inherently begs for it (and I love Zelda and its simplicity and what it does, to be very clear!). Like, I know this is just me justifying my own investment to a degree, but... his relationship to the gerudo culture, his relationship to gender, to divinity, to fate, to self-definition, to absolute resistance grinded down to the point of absurdity (but at the same time, what else is there to do)... like all of this absolutely has potential to be large and epic and breathtaking, but. Nintendo needs to preserve the statut quo. And Ganondorf just cannot express all of these themes without having this simple world literally collapse around him.

This is what I find incredibly compelling about this dramatic disaster of a guy. And the very media that suggested all of these contradictions and inner conflicts (without necessarily understanding them at first I think) is now fighting tooth and nail against what it introduced, what he can embody and once questioned (in WW most potently) for the sake of Hyrule's moral balance, backpedalling into a state of simplicity that just never truly existed to that degree before --partially, in my opinion, because this conflict is scary to face heads on without taking significant artistic risks I am not confident we will ever see again, to be uhh less than optimistic.

So yeah! He isn't that complicated as the villain of the children video games for sure!! But. As a character, there's so much there, just sitting right under the surface.

[starlit1daydream]

CLASSPECTING YELLOW GUY: DHMIS and the aspect of Light

Well, Yellow won the poll I put out a few days ago, and I have a very clear idea of what I see in him (fitting, given his title) so I'll detail my thoughts down below. This is all my personal analysis, you're free to come to any different conclusion, Classpecting is subjective even if some answers are clearer than others.

Yellow Guy. David, Doi, Manny, whatever debatably official/completely unofficial name you want to refer to him by, he's arguably the most important character to Don't Hug Me I'm Scared. Some may argue that Red Guy takes on the role of protagonist in the sense that he moves forward the narrative, but Yellow is the one it centres around. The whole show is, from an in-universe perspective, built around him.

This is going to go over mostly his role in the TV series, but include some aspects from the web series.

I think Yellow is a Page of Light.

He begins as a simpleton, struggling to grasp the most basic knowledge and very much filling the role of the team idiot. Despite this, however, he's always filled with this inherent curiosity and desire to learn things. He's the integral student, seeking to understand Light even though he so fundamentally lacks it.

This is, of course, a dead ringer for a Page of Light. Yellow is incredibly deficient with his Aspect, but nonetheless it's still an integral part of his life and how he leads it - like Tavros with Breath, Jake with Hope and Horuss with Void.

Naturally, the Page holds great potential to understand their Aspect and share it out and lead through it once they fully comprehend how to use it. Yellow's moment of understanding, that 'lightbulb' moment if you will is when his batteries are restored.

Suddenly, he's unlocked that potential with Light. It's... equivalent to God Tiering, let's say. But he's not a master. The Page has a far longer road to walk than that. He's merely beginning to comprehend Light, his relationship with it and his search for it. Not only that, he's willing to share it; he ends up schooling one of the teachers, after all!

Naturally, the world has it out for him. The Page, to put it bluntly, is the narrative joke. Hussie did not like any of the characters he made Pages. Tavros is portrayed as a softie, a crybaby and the punchline of some very ableist jokes by the fandom, Jake is called 'jape' or 'joke' more than his actual name by Vriska, and Horuss is a thinly veiled and very tasteless parody of therians and systems.

Naturally, Yellow follows this pattern of being fucked around by the narrative, just in a way that makes more sense in-universe beyond 'the author's being a dick'. Yellow is the narrative plaything. Knowledge is constantly distorted or withheld from him, he's surrounded by Void given to him by other people (Roy is most definitely a player of Void) and thus those brief sparks of Light, those points of data and precise moments that makes up the aspect, they're very few and far between.

The house's upper floors represent his quest for knowledge and relevance. He steps closer and closer to the truth, every higher floor is another tier of knowledge reached. He's growing to understand that Aspect, confronted with false understandings of Light and pushing them away. Like any Light-bound, he wants the truth, he wants that linear point of data that gives him clarity.

But, as the Page, the narrative plaything, Lesley and Roy's toy to torture and play with as they see fit... he doesn't get it. He has the answers held in front of his face, and then all of that development is reversed. Amusingly, this seems to mirror certain arcs at the end of Homestuck, but I digress.

Yellow fails his quest, but not of his own volition, and we'll see if the TV series drops a new season (9 days away, people!) whether or not we'll see him ever fully realise the truth.

Next up, Red Guy as a Breath-bound and Duck as a Doom-bound.

[we-are-inevitable]

hollywood au + flowershop/tattoo artist au ? - asper

oh my fuck. oh my fuck

ty for the ask!! @loving-jack-kelly

***

“Charlie!”

A distant thud, and then: “What the fuck are you yelling for? It’s eight in the morning, oh my God.”

Jack only feels a little bit sorry for him. He should probably feel worse; today is Charlie’s only day off this week, having picked up an extra day at the floral shop he works at, but this— it’s important, truly. “Just— Just hurry up and get in here, man, this is— I— Holy fuck.”

“Oh, yeah, of course, make the disabled guy walk to you instead of come to him. Perfect logic there,” Charlie calls out, his voice getting closer and closer with each word, soon emerging from the small hallway in their shared apartment. “What are you freakin’ out over this time?” He says as he rests his cane against the arm of the couch, plopping down and swinging his bad leg across Jack’s lap.

Instead of replying, Jack just keeps staring down at his phone. Staring at the new notifications. Staring at something that has to be a dream. Right? Because, if this is real— if these notifications are actually there, if Charlie sees them too— then this is going to be fucking insane. This is going to completely change his career.

His hands shake, just barely, as he passes Charlie the phone. “Look. Those— Those ain’t fake. Right? Is that a- a parody account or somethin’?”

Charlie stares at the screen for a few moments, takes it in, and says: “Holy… fuck.”

Instagram: davidjacobs started following you.

You have one unread message from davidjacobs.

“I haven’t even looked at the message yet,” Jack says after a moment, eyes wide. “He, like— that’s him? Like, actually—?”

“His account has the blue check mark and everything,” Charlie says in a rushed voice, and Jack watches him scroll through the Instagram feed after clicking on the account. “This— Look, he just posted photos yesterday from a shoot with Prada. Fucking Prada, Jack, that’s— that’s huge! And this one, he’s on Vanity Fair, and—“

“Give me that,” Jack says, reaching over and ripping his phone out of Charlie’s hands. “Did you look at the—?”

“No, no, I didn’t,” Charlie cuts in, leaning closer to look over Jack’s shoulder. “Open it! Come on, don’t be chicken shit.”

“Will you shut the fuck up and let me think?”

“Will you shut the fuck up and let me see the DM?”

Jack groans, then clicks on the messages tab. There it is, right there: David Jacobs, requesting to DM him. Jack can’t exactly believe it. David Jacobs, the man who won an Oscar just over a week ago, has messaged him. David Jacobs, the hottest man alive, pop culture’s current golden boy, Jack’s biggest celebrity crush, has messaged him.

He takes a deep breath and opens the DM.

davidjacobs: Hi, Jack! I’m looking to get a tattoo soon, and a buddy of mine sent me your page. Your work is incredible, and your style is exactly what I am looking for. I’d love to book you for a session if you have anything available. I’ll be in Manhattan for a week starting on the 27th before heading back to LA; do you have any availability? If not, I’d love for you to shoot me a message when your bookings open up. Thanks. DJ xx

“Oh my God,” Charlie blurts out, putting a hand on Jac’s shoulder. “Oh my fucking God, David Jacobs wants you to tattoo him! Holy— Do you know what this means?!”

“I— I have to open shop on a Tuesday,” Jack says, almost in a dreamlike state. “I’m fully booked for the next, like, month, but I— I can open shop on a Tuesday, and have him come in, and we can- I don’t know, it would be worth it? He’d tip really fuckin’ well, and—“

“He’s willing to wait for you,” Charlie interrupts. “Holy shit. You’re tattooing an Oscar winner.”

“I’m tattooing an Oscar winner,” Jack repeats, nodding his head.

It slowly starts to sink in. David Jacobs, an Oscar winner, a twenty-three year old with 58.9 million Instagram followers, who’s face is on every ad in the country, Hollywood’s newest heartthrob, wants a tattoo from Jack Kelly. Jack Kelly, whose shop isn’t even that well known. He has about five thousand followers on his personal page, and even less on his shop’s page. He only employs two other artists- a guy named Finch and another named Spot- because he can’t afford a larger space for the shop, and he’s been trying so hard to grow their followings and promote his art, his dream, and now…

Jack takes one look at Charlie, and says, “I think I’m going to throw up.”

And an hour later, David Jacobs’ name is on his books.

[touloserrrr]

Since I am totally very normal about Six… I have decided to overanalyse all the lyrics: Don’t Lose Ur Head

Grew up in the French Court

Initially I thought this meant Boleyn was French, but a simple google search actually reveals she was born in England, but did part of her education in France as a maid of honour (lady in waiting) to the French queen.

Oui, oui, bonjour

“Yes, yes, hello” in French to indicate her upbringing.

Life was a chore so (she set sail)

1522 came straight to the UK

Boleyn returned to England that year to marry a distant cousin. This was planned simply in the interest of her family for some land.

All the British dudes, lame

Epic fail

This engagement was broken off at some point, though there is nothing to suggest a specific reason. This has left Boleyn a single woman in England.

Ooh, I wanna dance and sing

This could be a reference to her character in the musical as she had become a singer here, however, this could also reference the fact Boleyn was known for singing and dancing rather well.

Politics, not my thing

Ooh, but then I met the King

Boleyn became a maid of honour to Catherine of Aragon, which led to her meeting Henry. In 1526, he became interested in her and attempted to seduce her.

And soon my daddy said, "You should try and get ahead"

Might be about trying to get ahead of her sister Mary Boleyn, who was Henry’s past mistress but nothing more. Additionally, this line sounds like “get a head”, hinting at her eventual loss of a head.

He wanted me, huh, obviously

Messaging me like everyday

This is of course as in sending letters, but could be a parody of the trope of the cheating husband messaging his lover on his phone every day and having to be secretive about it to his wife.

Couldn't be better, then he sent me a letter and who am I kidding

I was prêt-à-manger

I do not speak any French so had to use google translate; “ready to eat”. I was confused at first why this line would be used, but I figured it may be one of these possibilities: could be literally referring to royal food as Henry was very wealthy and ate better than anyone else at the time; ready to eat up all of the love she is given; or it could be a sexual innuendo.

Ooh, sent a reply

Ooh, just saying hi

Ooh, you're a nice guy

Surface level, seems like Boleyn is saying she believed Henry was a decent man. However, overanalysis kicks in! This possibly could be a reference to the modern use of the term “nice guy”; a man who acts nice to a woman but believes he is entitled to something, so if something does not go his way, he flips.

I'll think about it maybe, xo baby

Here we go

(You sent him kisses)

I didn't know I would move in with his misses

Boleyn, Aragon and Henry were living in the same palace due to Boleyn’s position in court, but later she was moved to her own lodging to be closer to Henry.

(What?)

Get a life

You're living with his wife?

Like, what was I meant to do?

Once Henry made up his mind, the woman in his life had little control over the next events. This is later proven in ‘I Don’t Need Your Love’. Boleyn did not have many options in her situation.

Sorry, not sorry 'bout what I said

Boleyn was known to have some rather controversial things (at the time) when angered, one of the most notable examples being “Ainsi sera groigne qui groigne”, which means “Let them grumble; that is how it is going to be”, this being her motto. This line could possibly also be about the things she said to Henry which led to him annulling his marriage with Catherine of Aragon, and becoming supreme head of the Church of England.

I'm just tryna have some fun

Don't worry, don't worry, don't lose your head

To ‘lose your head’ means to lose self-control or panic, but it also obviously refers to the fact that Boleyn was beheaded, so she literally was the one to lose her head.

I didn't mean to hurt anyone

LOL, say oh well

The use of modern language that has been popularised with social media contrasts with the time period these events took place. Additionally, this language is rather casual, so it shows the character’s attitude to the whole situation.

Or go to hell

This is another major contrast - the line before this was rather innocent-sounding, and suggests she had no ill-intent, yet this line is the complete opposite as the Tudor times were very religious so this would’ve been taken rather seriously.

I'm sorry, not sorry 'bout what I said

Don't lose your head

Three in the bed and the little one said

This is a reference to the famous (at least in England) nursery song ‘Ten In The Bed’. In this bit the character of Boleyn points to herself in reference to “the little one”, which could also be highlighting how Anne Boleyn was around 10 years younger than Henry, and more than that than Aragon.

If you wanna be wed, make up your mind

Her or me, chum

The letters Henry sent to Boleyn indicate she refused to sleep with him for most of their relationship before marriage, likely because it was looked down upon if a woman wasn’t a virgin before marriage. This likely was a factor in why Henry decided he wanted Boleyn to be more than just another one of his mistresses.

Don't wanna be some

Girl in a threesome

Are you blind?

Ooh, don't be bitter

Ooh, 'cause I'm fitter

This shows a sort of conflict between Aragon and Boleyn, which may represent how civilians of England would show support to different queens (mainly Aragon) as a new queen was a rather large change at the time.

Ooh, why hasn't it hit her?

He doesn't want to bang you

Somebody hang you

This might refer to a quote by Anne Boleyn, where she said would “rather see her hanged than acknowledge her as her mistress”.

Here we go

Your comment went viral

This is relevant to social media today how certain things can ‘go viral’, and can lead to cancel culture, like how Boleyn became hated by most of England, mostly because Aragon was a beloved queen.

I didn't really mean it but rumours spiral

Wow Anne, way to make the country hate you

As I stated before, Boleyn was hated and unpopular with a lot of the English population, and that led to some riots against her.

Mate, what was I meant to do?

Sorry, not sorry 'bout what I said

I'm just tryna have some fun

Don't worry, don't worry, don't lose your head

I didn't mean to hurt anyone

LOL, say oh well

Or go to hell

I'm sorry, not sorry 'bout what I said

Don't lose your head

Tried to elope

But the pope said nope

At first Henry actually asked the pope to annul his marriage with Aragon in order to marry Boleyn, but this was obviously refused. Henry had the court meet to discuss this matter, but nothing really went from there. The two of them ended up getting married in secret.

Our only hope was Henry

He got a promotion

Henry pushed the Act of Supremacy, which made him the supreme head of the Church of England. This meant the pope held no religious authority over England, and he did divorce Aragon as he had wanted for a long time, not only because of Boleyn, but also because he wanted a son.

Caused a commotion

Set in motion the C of E

The C of E is just a shortened phrase that refers to the Church of England, whom Henry was the head of.

The rules were so outdated

This likely refers to how many times Henry’s annulment to Aragon was denied, which didn’t allow for Boleyn and Henry to marry.

Us two wanted to get x-rated

In order to sleep with one another, couples were expected to marry first, so this line is a reference to that.

Soon, ex-communicated

Everybody chill, its totes God's will

Boleyn was a Catholic and was rather religious, but not as religious as some of the other queens.

Henry's out every night on the town

Just sleeping around, like what the hell?

Henry was known to have lots of mistresses during his marriages, and his marriage to Boleyn was no exception. She already knew he used to sleep with her sister while he was married to Aragon and had a son with another woman. Historical sources claim that he had started courting Jane Seymour during this marriage.

If that's how it's gonna be

Maybe I'll flirt with a guy or three

Boleyn was known to be rather flirtatious and was later charged with adultery. One of the men believed to have been a lover of hers was Mark Smeaton, who confessed to this accusation, however, this was likely after being tortured or promised freedom, so it is difficult to say if this was an accurate accusation. There were a few other men who Henry claimed Boleyn had romantic affairs with, but there is not that much evidence for those, which is why historians often theorise Henry made up these charges in order to get rid of his wife in order to marry Seymour.

Just to make him jell

Henry finds out and he goes mental

He screams and shouts

Like so judgemental

You damned witch

Boleyn wasn’t actually charged with witchcraft, but a lot of people over the years spread the rumour of her being a witch, claiming she had a sixth finger - and deformities like this were associated with witchcraft in the past. There is no real evidence to suggest she did have this.

Mate, just shut up

Women weren’t expected to stand up to their husbands, so Boleyn telling Henry to “shut up” would have been very much looked down upon.

I wouldn't be such a b-

Throughout the entire musical, curse words are censored mostly by the other queens interrupting.

If you could get it up

Here we go

(Is that what you said?)

And now he's going 'round like off with her head

(No)

Yeah, I'm pretty sure he means it

(Seems it)

Of course, this is referring to how Henry decided to have Boleyn executed, specifically by beheading. The phrase “off with their head” became popularised by Lewis Carroll, who published his original books on Alice in Wonderland, which is said by the Queen of Hearts.

What was I meant to do?

(What was she meant to do?)

Like what was I meant to do?

(What was she meant to do?)

No, but what was I meant to do?

Sorry, not sorry 'bout what I said

I'm just tryna have some fun

Don't worry, don't worry, don't lose your head

I didn't mean to hurt anyone

LOL, say oh well

Or go to hell (she's going to hell)

Sorry, not sorry 'bout what I said

Sorry, not sorry 'bout what she said

Sorry, not sorry 'bout what I said

Don't lose your head

Haha sorry

In a fit of anger, Boleyn would say things she regretted, which is reflected by the fact she apologised only at the end.

EXTRA: After this song, the character of Boleyn attempts to perform a solo song titled ‘Wearing Yellow To A Funeral’. This is a reference to how after Catherine of Aragon died, Henry was happy to hear the news, and attended her funeral with his new wife Anne Boleyn. They were both wearing yellow, which was a colour that symbolised mourning in Spain (Aragon’s country of origin), but joy and celebration in England.

[spaceorphan18]

Glee Musical Retrospective : Highway to Hell (Hell-O)

Sung by: Jesse St. James w/Vocal Adrenaline Original Artist(s): AC/DC

Hey - we're focusing on the first syllable again. (Again - I can just picture the writers coming up with music ideas with this one and getting giggly when they could use the word 'hell'.)

I don't really love this one - mostly because it's over-the-top showy with the intention of looking intimidating but there's not much going on with what is literaly a snippet.

Story Analysis

The whole point of this song is to paint Jesse as a bad boy. (And sneak in a famous AC/DC song I suppose.) There's not really a point in breaking down any lyrics because it's not really about the lyrics -- or the meaning of the song. It's about what the song represents.

Highway to Hell is a much harsher sound than we're used to on the show (and honestly, the show rarely dips into heavier rock). But's all about the look -- about the black leather and intense looks and the fiery choreography. Vocal Adrenaline has already shown to be an intimidating group with their professional dancing and showy choreography - but now they have a front man -- Jesse -- who isn't fooling around.

This is villain coding -- it's like we're seeing Jesse in his lair (VA's auditorium) and the real Jesse is not a good guy. So we're on edge as Rachel gets closer to him. Compare Jesse's performance to Finn's earlier -- Finn's singing classic rock -- familiar, safe, charming.... But Jesse is singing hard rock -- he's on that highway to hell and loving every minute of it.

One can only take it so seriously, though. I mean, Glee is still trying to hold onto its satirical roots begun in the Front 13. Despite they angle their pushing for - Jesse (and really Jonathan Groff) doesn't really scream dangerous, misunderstood bad boy but I don't think he really is supposed to either. Sure, it's about an image Glee wants to sell -- but its under the lens of parody. At the end of the day - Jesse is still presented as wild card for Rachel and an antagonist for Finn, and that's really what Glee is going for.

Plus - taking the opportunity to show off Vocal Adrenaline as an intimidating foe.

Technical Thoughts

Okay. Time to peer behind the curtain. I think there's a lot going into this to make it look flashier and more hard core than it really is.

First of all - the lighting. There's not really fire but a projection of it, as well as the orange lighting on the steps making it look a blaze against the blue background. It's some great work here - and I feel like for a forty second clip, it's good at tricking the mind. And then there's the pyrotechnics. Which is hilariously over-the-top, but it works for what they're doing.

Then there's the costumes and choreography. The looks -- black leather with the hint of orange in them - are brilliant. And it's good to remind that one of the best selling points of Vocal Adrenaline is that they're using professional dancers as the 'students'. They're all jumping around the stage doing tricks and flips and visually it looks fantastic -- and nothing like our awkward protagonists who can't even hit a straight line together.

(I'd argue, as I always do, that good visuals do not equal great musicality; this isn't a dance competition but a singing one, but I digress...)

I don't love this song for Jesse. I don't think it necessarily fits his personality very well. And I don't think it really fits Jonathan Groff's strengths. But maybe that's coming from someone who has seen this show a thousand times and understands that the writers probably didn't know what kind of character they were fully making yet. I think there are other ways that you can create that discomforting -- possible villainous sound. But, as a reminder, this is Glee, where everything is big and bold and hitting a nail right squarely on the head. The writers wanted a bad boy for Rachel to fall in with, and they wanted to use a song that fit their theme, and this does exactly that.

The song is, if nothing else, dramatic -- and that does work for the introduction of Jesse as a lead. And it's a testament to Jonathan Groff's talent that he can physically portray the image they're trying to sell even if I'm not fully on board vocally.

Meanwhile -- the woman they have accompanying him is fantastic. Her voice fits this song wonderfully, and while I have no idea who she is -- I love her gritty sound.

So, a small detail I noticed because I had it paused -- when Will walks in the room, the word 'fire' can be seen three times -- as there's a fire alarm, fire hose, and fire extinguisher all in the same place. Was it intentional? I wonder.

vs. The Studio Version: So, it's the full song instead of just a small portion. It's a cleaner mix -- and you can definitely hear the back up singers better. Idk, I think I'm just not a fan overall that colors my judgment of this one a little.

vs. The Original Version: Oh wow - okay, the original version is way slower and lower in pitch -- which makes me wonder if they sped up the recording for show (instead of having them sing it at a faster/higher pace). No wonder the show one feels somewhat out of control and uncomfortable. I'm sure it's partly out of time constraints that they speed things up - but that might be why the track sounds a little weird. Huh.

Also - whenever Glee takes a song like this and turns into a showchoir song, it can't help but feel a little 'kidz bop' to me. There's a relaxed, grittiness to the song that is just lost in the frantic absurdity that is Vocal Adrenaline.