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wife-of-all-dilfs · 10 months ago

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what friends do | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you were a simple town girl. finnick odair was the crown jewel of panem. both of you needed an escape and found it at a secluded beach just outside district four. these were three ingredients that created a year-long friendship. but were friends supposed to have… impure thoughts about one another? you weren’t so sure.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: smut, wayyy too much detail, dirty thoughts, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, mostly readers pov, pre-rebellion, HEAVY dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v (big no no), multiple orgasms, so much pining, creampie, cock-warming

notes: i’m so sorry this took me so long. life has been up my ass lately and, as y’all know, i’m a slow writer. but thank you sm to everyone who patiently stuck around, i love y’all <3 this was supposed to be a short smut fic but um, apparently not. anyway, this has taken long enough to come out so imma stop rambling. ENJOY <3

word count: 11.7k

Mid-Autumn was closely approaching District Four.

Harvest in the fishing industry was at its peak and the docks were chock-full with boats bringing in their plentiful catches. The town centre was a bustling scene, crowded with people selling produce and trading for food to bring home to their family's kitchen table.

Last year's autumn harvest was the same picture—overflow, hustle, commotion; chaos like this was something you never came to enjoy. So, it was also around this time last year that you had decided to set off in search of the perfect location away from the rest of society. A place where you could be at peace, where you could forget the disastrous world you lived in.

District Four was home to many popular beaches, but the one you discovered was uninhabited, isolated, found after an hour-or-so-long trek through overgrown dirt pathways and a thicket of sea-grape and palm trees. A true paradise away from society. Or so you had thought in the first few weeks.

You weren't too sure when he had started showing up or how he had even discovered the beach.

However, one evening, as you were seated in the sand watching the sunset on the darkening horizon, you noticed a dark figure diving and surfacing in the flat, glimmering water. Their movements were so poised and fluid like the ocean was something they had conquered. You guessed it to be a dolphin or shark because there was no way a human being could move so gracefully.

But then the figure started wading to shore, and the next thing you knew, they were standing on two legs and exiting the water. You knew then that you had guessed wrong. The sun behind him obscured the bronze of his hair and the swirling lukewarm sea that pooled around his pupils. All you could see was the outline of his tall broad figure as he hiked through the sand toward you.

Fear had told you to bolt from the approaching stranger. You were in the middle of nowhere—it was the perfect place to be murdered or kidnapped. But something else, some deep and tangible instinct, also told you to stay.

"Didn't realise I had a captive audience," thestranger spoke, droplets of gleaming water sliding off his body and into the sand as he stood a few feet away.

Taken by surprise, you fumbled over your words trying to form a sentence in response. "I wasn't—I didn't—"

"Easy, honey," he chuckled. The sound was so warm and pleasant that it almost alleviated the slight chill in the air. "Just pulling your leg."

Your mouth formed a small circle. "Right," you said, gaze locked on the golden sand in embarrassment. "I, uh, didn't think anyone else knew about this place."

To be honest, you were pretty sure it was a restricted area. Probably the reason it was so isolated. If a Capitol official found you, the consequences would most likely involve your tongue, a scalpel, and a hell of a lot of pain. All for a wanting a little peace and quiet.

"Neither did I," the man said. "I only come every now and then. Need an escape from the constant buzz back home. Time for myself, you know?"

"Yeah." You smiled, feeling the stranger's words resonate in your soul. "Yeah, I do know."

You thought you saw the corners of his lips curve into a smile, but the shadows on his face were so prominent that you couldn't tell.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked.

Well... if he were going to murder you, he would have done it already. So, you nodded. Sometimes you questioned your survival instincts. Or lack thereof.

He didn't leave much space as he sat beside you. Only an inch or two, meaning you could feel the humidity of body heat and salt water emit from his skin. Even sitting down, he was still quite tall compared to you, but that wasn't what caused your heart to drop into your stomach.

The setting sun, which no longer disguised his face with shadows, now illuminated his entire figure and revealed his identity. His hair was a mess of wet wavy strands, the colour alight like a pale fire beneath the sun's orange radiance. His skin was sun-kissed, no doubt from days he had spent perfecting his swimming abilities. And those dimples... wow.

He was gorgeous. A man sculpted by the gods of beauty, just like everyone in Panem had depicted him to be. Even his sea-green eyes were as striking as everyone said.

Finnick Odair.

The man who was crowned victor of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games at fourteen. Who trapped multiple tributes at once in a net and killed them one by one with his famed trident. A killer.

The man whose reputation in the Capitol was known nationwide. A proud womanizer.

That was what everyone made him out to be.

Only, in the brief interaction you shared with him, he seemed like quite the opposite. He radiated effortless charm and warmth, but not in the arrogant way the media had portrayed him. Then again, did the media ever accurately portray the truth of anything?

It was then that you determined it didn't really matter who people said he was or what he had done. He was a human being—just like you. He deserved a chance.

His pink lips stretched into a knee-weakening smile; you were grateful that you were sitting down.

"I'm Finnick, by the way."

The both of you knew he didn't need to introduce himself. The whole of Panem knew his name and face. Though the fact that he humbly did so anyway made you like him the tiniest bit more.

You returned his smile with one of your own and introduced yourself.

Time passed and the sun had set; the moon had risen, but you both remained sitting side-by-side in the sand. Conversation flowed so naturally between the two of you that it was difficult for you to remember that stopping and getting some air into your lungs was an important factor in keeping a conversation going... as well as keeping you alive.

You told him about yourself as he did himself—some things that were meant to remain secrets, some things that seemed too strange to tell anyone else.

At some point, he had offered to walk you back to your house. The trek was over an hour long but neither of you seemed to care. The time flew by.

When you were standing at your front door and he was gazing up at you from the bottom of the steps, you both promised to meet again the next day. And you did.

As you did the day after that... and the day after that... and the day after that...

**********

As soon as the nights carried that familiar chill and the town congested with markets and fervent buyers, you knew mid-autumn had made its return. This meant most of your evenings were spent at a certain secret beach with a certain District Four victor.

Having already finished his pre-sunset swim, Finnick was sitting beside you, fingers weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath you. A couple of weeks after you had first met, he had shown up one day holding it all rolled up in hand.

"Made this for you to sit on," he had said with a proud smile. "Took nearly all night and earned me a few good finger cramps, but I think it was worth it."

Pinpointing the exact moment your attraction to him first formed was tricky. However, that gesture was one your mind returned to often. That little palm-leaf mat, the time and effort he put into making it, was scored on your heart.

Finnick was very much a gentleman.

He would always offer you a hand when standing up and whenever you walked back through the overgrown seaside forest. Sometimes he picked fruits for you such as sea grapes and mangos or would climb one of the palms and knock down a few coconuts. One thing he always, always did wasmake sure you got home safe; he never let you out of his sight until you were safe inside your front door.

All those gestures, big and small, added up. Soon enough, Finnick Odair had infiltrated your heart and consumed all your thoughts. You saw his sea-green eyes staring back at you whenever you gazed out at the ocean by your house. Felt the ghost of his hands on yours whenever you picked a grape from the kitchen fruit bowl. Heard his voice calling out your name in your most vivid of dreams.

But there was more to it than innocent adoration.

The guilt came when your gaze started lingering on his body a little too long whenever he left the water at the beach. Shimmering droplets would glide down his beautifully tanned skin; his arm muscles would flex as his fingers raked back his dripping wet hair. It wasn't yourfault he was the walking definition of perfection.

Unholy was the closest word to describe the filthy thoughts that had perverted your imagination. What started as endearing daydreams soon became fantasies that had you seeking relief between your thighs late at night. Your thoughts went wild whenever he dropped you off at your house. It took everything in you not to invite him inside and ask him to fuck you senseless against the front door.

All you had to do was ask. You knew he would say yes.

A year is a long time to know someone. A long time for feelings to grow. It also serves as a lot of time for things to happen between two people—things that linger in your mind even months after they have happened.

Like the times he would walk by you and teasingly whisper something provocative in your ear, then disappear for an hour of swimming, leaving you all hot and flustered in the sand. Neither of you would acknowledge it when he returned. Or when conversations took such a flirtatious turn, the tension only dissipated when houses were separating you at the end of the night.

But that's just what friends do, right? They tease and banter?

Maybe.

However, not all things could be chalked up to being just friends.

Another thing about Finnick's eyes was that they were transparent. You saw how helplessly they clung to you the days you stripped to your underwear and joined him in the water. He had this sort of reaction that turned his eyes into a dark violent sea, like you were some divine temptation planted to test the strength of his resolve.

Sometimes he could resist. Other days it was obvious he couldn't help but reach out and touch.

He would try to be subtle about it. Hands holding yours a little longer than necessary when he helped you stand up. Sitting too closely beside you so that your arms and legs would graze against each other. Brushing off pieces of seaweed that would stick to the dip of your waist and then constantly using the same excuse just to feel the heat of your soft skin.

There was one interaction, though, that you fell asleep to the thought of every night. It was a moment when things almost went too far; an interaction friends definitely did not share.

You could remember it clear a day. Hell, you could still feel it clear as day.

It was a hot summer evening. Both you and Finnick were at the beach and swimming in the water since being in the muggy coastal heat for more than five minutes was parallel to roasting in a thousand-degree sauna.

You were about twenty meters offshore, bobbing beside Finnick as he dived to collect various seashells. That boy could hold his breath for an unbelievable amount of time which meant sometimes you spent minutes alone on the surface, waiting, listening to the calm waves lap eerily around you.

This is exactly how people die in shark movies, said an unwarranted voice in your mind.

As usual, a minute went by. Nothing to worry about. Then a minute turned into two and you were starting to become a little concerned. And then it was two and a half minutes and you were now panicking.

"Finnick?!" you called out, hoping he could somehow hear you from the dark depths.

Three minutes had totalled, and you were pretty certain he had drowned. Just to add to the utter dread coursing through your veins, something slimy brushed against your foot. Most likely a piece of seaweed, but you didn't make that connection at the time.

That very same moment, Finnick burst through the water's surface, only mildly breathless and pinching a small iridescent shell between his fingers.

"Look at thi—"

Before the words could leave his mouth, he found himself enveloped in your distraught embrace. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, crying tears of relief.

Damn that stupid seashell.

He automatically secured you in his arms, concern palpable in his voice as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You pulled away, an indistinguishable combination of tears and saltwater rolling down your cheeks. Though it was hard to miss the look of distress found in your furrowed brows and trembling lips.

"Don't ever do that to me again!" you exclaimed, gripping his arms to emphasise your urgency. "You hear me?! Ever!"

Finnick's head tilted slightly, surprised by your emotional reaction. He hadn't realised he meant so much to you. The surprise faded into remorse, softening his features.

"I won't. I won't, I promise," he said sincerely. His eyes flickered over the worry lines etched on your forehead. He unconsciously brushed his thumb over the lines, hoping to draw out the anxiety with his touch, and then tucked away a strand of hair. "I'm sorry I scared you."

You took in a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to compose yourself. A mess of emotions stirred inside you—worry, embarrassment, irritation. You were partially frustrated with Finnick for making you fear for his life. Mostly annoyed with yourself for showing such vulnerability in front of him.

"God, you're an idiot sometimes," you sighed, shaking your head.

He smirked. "Didn't think you cared so much about me."

"No, you just don't think, Finn."

He glanced off into the distance for a moment with furrowed brows. "Well, that's definitely not true," he countered, meeting your gaze again with a half-smirk. "I think about a lot of things, actually."

"Oh? Like what?" you asked, slightly annoyed. "Do tell me what the great Finnick Odair thinks about instead of his own safety."

Slowly, the smirk faded from his lips. Something new tinged the atmosphere and suddenly everything around you seemed hotter than it previously was. Not an uncomfortable or sweltering heat, but one that held an intensity that sparked the air with electricity.

You suddenly became very aware that Finnick was still holding you in his arms. You recognised the confined proximity between you and him and realised that, before this moment, your bodies had never been so close.

Your legs were curled around his hips, pelvis pressed firmly against his. The position of his hands, which were keeping you afloat, was bordering on inappropriate but would only be deemed as such if you cared. Which you didn't. You liked it—having his hands on you.

One thing you couldn't ignore was the flickering of his gaze. How his eyes kept dropping to your lips. How they blatantly revealed a long-awaited confession that words just couldn't capture. Still, you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to hear the purr in his voice as he told you.

Then he was leaning in. You weren't sure whether it was on purpose or if the pure magnetism of the tension between you was drawing him closer. Regardless, you started to lean in closer too, eyes drooping as you focused on his mouth.

And before the short distance between your lips and his became immeasurable, you whispered, "Tell me, Finn."

The hands keeping you afloat trailed up and down your back restlessly as Finnick forced a tense exhale through his nose. He seemed to be wrestling with thoughts. You waited in anticipation, and right when it seemed like he was going to make a move—

"I think..."

—you were interrupted. By no less than a pod of dolphins as they leapt from the water, causing you and Finnick to jolt from each other's embrace.

The rest of that evening was not worth mentioning. Not because you had forgotten what happened, but because the sheer awkwardness between you and Finnick afterwards was so torturous that you wanted to keep the memory squashed in the recesses of your mind. Neither of you acknowledged what happened. Finnick still walked you home, but it was done so in agonising silence.

Surprisingly, you both returned to the beach the next day. You hadn't expected him to be his usual upbeat self, but he was. So, in turn, you too acted like the previous day was erased from history. But your friendship with him was never the same.

Flirty conversations no longer felt like a joke; they now had a deeper meaning. Fleeting touches caused full-body goosebumps that didn't happen before. There was so much unresolved tension, and it was painfully thick. Inescapable.

So, as Finnick sat beside you present-day, weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath your bodies, you couldn't help but notice the transparency of your body language and his. The gap between you both was comparable to the size of a pearl and even though neither of you acknowledged it, you kept catching each other stealing quick glances every half-minute or so.

When you were sure he wasn't looking, you found your gaze drawn to his fingers. They were sturdy, yet nimble; curling and manoeuvring in ways that had your face feeling hotter than the heat of any sunburn or warm summer's day. This heat was beneath your skin. Spreading through your limbs in little tendrils and wrapping around your nerves. A dip in the salty sea wouldn't cool you down nor would a gulp of cold fresh water.

As you stared at his hands, you knew only the source of the sensation could offer reprieve. But that wouldn't happen, so there you burned.

The fact that he was shirtless and that his hair was a gorgeous mess of damp bronze curls helped not one bit with taming the consuming desire inside you. God, you were a mess yourself.

You sighed.

The sun, glowing intensely with a divine orange, was beginning its descent on the horizon. Your feet were buried beneath the soft sand, trying to retain some warmth as a slight breeze blew against your exposed skin.

Wearing a short sundress probably wasn't the most practical idea. Embarrassing as it was to admit, practicality wasn't what was going through your mind when you decided to wear it... Someone—Something else was.

"Something on your mind?" Finnick asked suddenly.

Your heart fumbled in your chest, terrified that he had somehow heard your thoughts. "Sorry?"

"You sighed," he said, turning his head to look at you. "Or am I just getting so old that I'm already starting to hear things?"

With relief of his lack of mind-reading abilities, you laughed softly. "You're definitely getting a bit old, Finn," you teased. "Any nursing homes you've been considering?"

"I heard retirement by the sea has its perks," he quipped, subtle dimples present as he returned to his weaving. "Although, I will need someone to make sure I don't fall asleep while swimming and get carried out by the tide. What d'you say, sweetheart? Up for becoming my personal lifeguard?"

Absolutely. "Depends. Will you force me to wear one of those awful flowery swimming caps with a matching tankini?"

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm thinking more like those little red bodysuits. You know, the ones that zip open down the front?"

You reprimanded him by pushing his shoulder, wearing a betraying smile. "Very charming."

"I just think red's your colour, that's all," he laughed.

Your stomach fluttered. You knew he was teasing you; teasing was basically the foundation of your... friendship. Deep down, you knew there was also some truth behind his words. A truth that was as electrifying as it was upsetting—how long were you both going to keep up with this whole 'friends' charade? Could you handle it if the answer was forever?

Best not to think about it. For your sanity's sake.

Finnick finally settled into a comfortable position with his forearms locked around his bent knees, apparently having decided to continue his mat-weaving another time. He had been extending it bit by bit ever since he first made it for you. At this point, you were sure he was attempting to cover the entire beach. For now, it was only big enough for two people to lie down on.

Sounds pretty convenient, came an abrupt thought.

And then you fell down yet another rabbit hole of depraved daydreams... A pair of hands interlocking your own above your head. Hot lips pressing kisses to your neck. Tongue gliding up the sensitive skin of your jugular. Your fingers tugging at bronze curls between your thighs.

You were sick. Diseased with immorality. Finnick was your friend. If not your best friend. You're not supposed to fantasise about fucking your best friend.

"Thinking about anyone in particular?"

You almost choked on your saliva. "W—What?"

How did he keep doing that?

Finnick seemed to find joy in your perplexity. It was written all over his face. God, those fucking dimples. "You've been completely still for nearly five minutes and your legs are covered in goosebumps," he pointed out. "Hence the question: who are you thinking about?"

As you looked down, you found that your skin was in fact riddled with goosebumps. It didn't occur to you then that the only reason he could have noticed was if he was staring at your legs in the first place. It also didn't occur to you that Finnick obviously had the very same debauched thoughts running through his own mind.

Why did you have to wear such a revealing dress? He already struggled enough with resisting you at the best of times.

If you had been paying attention, a simple glance in his direction would have revealed how his ears were pink and his pupils were dilated. More importantly, you would have seen his legs constantly shifting to ease the discomfort tenting his pants. Fortunately, he had mastered the art of winding himself down in a short amount of time.

Unfortunately for you, that ability was not within your skill set.

You scoffed. "In case you haven't noticed, Finnick—it's autumn," you said, a quick snappy lilt in your tone. "I know you've got some weird internal space heater built into you, but normal people tend to have a reaction to the cold."

Well, it's a good thing you didn't sound defensive...

Finnick raised an eyebrow at you, displaying a puzzled half-smirk that spoke a thousand words.

You lowered your head in embarrassment, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry," you murmured. "I just, uh, don't really like the cold."

"Who could've guessed."

Despite serving as an excuse, it wasn't entirely untrue. You really did dislike the cold. And it was now that you seriously regretted your choice of sparse attire. The breeze kept blowing up the dress's skirt, threatening to expose your dignity to the world. Or more accurately, to Finnick. Thankfully, you had decided to wear a pair of delicate lace underwear that morning instead of old granny panties.

Nevertheless, now that it was on your mind, you couldn't think about anything but the cold gusts of wind blowing against you. Chills ran over your skin and you were shaking like a leaf.

Finnick, being the gentleman that he was, scanned the surrounding area for anything he could use to keep you warm. He would've given you his shirt had it not been crumpled in a ball of wet sand on the ground.

There was nothing else of use. Nothing except a single apprehensive idea sitting in the forefront of his mind. It was all he had. He bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the potentially disastrous idea.

Then, after taking a silent deep breath, he finally said, "Come here then." Your eyes snapped to his. You must've looked like you had seen a ghost because his brows knitted together in confusion. "What?" he breathed out a chuckle. "I'd prefer not having to carry you home as a block of ice."

You thought about it for a moment. Was it really such a good idea after the thoughts that were just swarming in your mind? Another gust of wind blew by and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself.

"I won't bite, sweetheart. Not unless you want me to," he added.

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, shut up."

With that, you slid across the mat, positioning your body, which was still facing the sunset, in front of his legs. There was a moment of hesitation. Anxiety. But before you could reconsider, Finnick wrapped a strong arm around your middle and pulled you back against his chest, situating your body between his legs.

The exhale that left your lips was instantaneous and you couldn't help but shudder at the warmth of his skin. "God," you sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden change in temperature. "How are you so warm all the time?"

"Oh, you know. Weird internal space heater."

You laughed softly, then felt Finnick's chest vibrate against your back as he joined you. His bare arms wound tighter around you, motivated by the affectionate atmosphere. Your body seemed to melt into the cocoon of warmth he provided, and a soft smile graced your lips.

"Better?" he asked.

You nodded, responding with a whisper, "Thank you."

"Anytime."

You could hear the smile in his voice and how intently he was trying to hide it. You wished you could have seen it. To see the sense of peace you shared. However, feeling it in the way he held you was enough.

Instead of blood, your heart now seemed to be pumping out rather odd alternatives—waves of sea-green salted ocean, iridescent seashells, smiles paired with heart-stopping dimples. How could he? How could Finnick condemn you to loving him like this? So unwaveringly; so without a hope of ever being able to return to life without him in it.

He made a mess of you. A ruin. And even with wholesome affection running through your veins, you still couldn't ignore the hazy images conjuring in your mind from the way his body was pressed firmly behind you.

How could he?

The sun had just touched the horizon, granting the sky a few more minutes of light, meaning it was almost time to head home—an upsetting reality. You weren't sure how much time had passed before your body started to ache from lack of movement.

You wiggled your toes which were buzzing like television static. The feeling started moving up your legs and you knew if you didn't stretch, you would later embarrass yourself trying to stand on dead legs. So that is what you did. You started moving.

First, you stretched out the muscles in your legs and then moved onto straightening your back against Finnick's chest, feeling the faint pops of your spine offer you relief. And then you started readjusting your position and wriggling your hips to fit more comfortably between Finnick's toned thighs. That was your first mistake.

"Stop moving."

You were taken aback by the rigid inflection in his tone. "What?" you asked, ignoring his warning and continuing your restless movements.

"Stop. Moving," Finnick repeated, sounding more strained.

His hold on you became stiff. Completely frozen.

You were confused. Everything was perfect a moment ago, and all you were doing was stretching—why was he being so weird and snappy?

In response, you exhaled sharply. "I'm just trying to get comf—"

"Fuck," he breathed out.

Your eyes widened and it was safe to say your stomach had flipped inside out.

That was the moment you finally realised your second mistake. The rigidness in his voice wasn't him being snappy with you at all. Not even close. He was just trying to prevent the pleasure he felt below from reaching his vocal cords.

But it was too late. It wouldn't have mattered if he managed to keep quiet because you could feel it now. The achingly hard length that was pressed against your backside, reaching all the way up to your tailbone.

"...Oh," you whispered.

"Yeah," Finnick said. "Oh."

Now it was your turn to freeze. Fear consumed you, similar to what you imagined having to remain motionless in front of tyrannosaurus rex to prevent from being eaten alive was like. Thanks to the damning wind, strands of your hair blew behind your shoulders, undoubtedly tickling the exposed skin of Finnick's chest. Even that minuscule movement had your heart threatening to explode with anxiety.

As per usual, panic wreaked havoc in your mind.

What do I do? Do I get up? How will we come back from this? Does he—

Finnick cleared his throat. "Uh, you still alive in there?" he chuckled nervously.

You felt minor relief enter your bloodstream upon hearing the normality in his voice. At least one of you was composed enough to act normally. Well, as normal as one could act after becoming hard due to their best friend sitting in their lap.

"Is it—" You swallowed the nerves rattling your voice "—is it because there's a girl sitting on your lap, or is it because it's me?"

That was the million-dollar question. Was his reaction simply biological? A natural response to stimulation? Or was it deeper than that? More personal.

Finnick was silent.

The rapid thumping in your chest moved to your ears, like a drumroll leading up to some grand reveal. You felt dizzy; both filled with dreadful anticipation and exhilaration. Your senses were so heightened, fuelled by an inane bout of adrenaline. You swore you could almost hear the gears turning in Finnick's mind, smell the smoke as they rotated over and over, trying to make sense of your question and form a suitable response.

Religion never played a factor in your life, but, oh, how you were zealously praying his answer would be the one you spent all your nights fantasising about. But still, he was silent.

And right when you believed he wasn't going to respond at all, his lips finally uttered that single life-changing word. "You."

Fireworks seemed to light up every nerve in your body. You.

You weren't sure what to make of your thoughts at first. The overwhelming abundance of emotion caused by a singular word was difficult to fathom. Only one sentiment stood out from the rest—and that was the fact that Finnick felt the same as you did for him.

It was no longer a speculation. It was a fact. A truth. An undeniable reality. You had both verbal and physicalproof, literally digging into your backside.

Finnick slowly, very slowly, unwound an arm from your torso, and you held your breath. His hand slid across your waist and then plastered itself over your hipbone, careful not to apply too much pressure to make you feel uncomfortable. When you felt the slight movement of his thumb gliding across your clothed skin, you exhaled the burning air in your lungs with a shaky sigh.

"Do you want me to get up?" you asked softly while staring at the sunset, although you were focused on anything but.

"Not a chance." And then he unwound the other arm, now cupping both sides of your hips with two large hands. The heat from his palm sank into your skin, sinking deeper layer by layer until it reached the rapid flow of your bloodstream. "Do you want to get up?"

You felt a pulsing sensation between your thighs that had your parted lips inhaling slow deep breaths, and you knew the only logical answer was no. So, you shook your head.

Finnick reached up to skilfully tuck a lock of hair behind your ear before placing his hand back on your hip. He then leaned down beside your ear, voice a hot, velvety whisper, "What next then, sweetheart?"

A wave of chills ran down your entire body.

What next? Another question for the ages. You had dreamt of this moment a million times over. You had pictured the unholiest, most vivid of scenarios, and yet here you were, mind blank as an empty void.

Then it hit you. Rather than acting from a pre-planned script, wouldn't it be better to just let your body act on what it naturally desired? On instinct? You took in a deep, stabilising breath and gave yourself into moment.

You slowly began turning your head to the side until, for the first time since he pulled you into his arms, your eyes flickered up and found Finnick's. His lips quirked with the ghost of a smile at the exchange, but he held it back. His jaw clenched and unclenched, muscles ticking with tension.

He was looking at you in a way you had never seen before. Or perhaps, you were just never close enough to notice, and he had always looked at you this way. There was a blazing intensity in his eyes, dark and penetrative, a bridge between yearning and total reverence. It was so enticing that you could feel your hands itching to undress yourself in front of him.

Finnick murmured your name.

"Yes?" you managed to whisper.

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?"

Those words—he had stolen them from the tip of your tongue.

You couldn't find the strength to muster any profound response. So instead, you found your head tilting back and the crook of your elbow winding up and around the nape of his neck. You didn't need to guide him down; he came willingly.

His lips caught yours in a soft, warm exchange. Singular yet prolonged. Then there was a brief pause of disconnection, a calm before the storm. And with Finnick, when it rained, it poured. Suddenly, a hand was cupping the area where your jaw and neck connected, and his lips were on yours again.

There was so much more heat in this kiss. A depth that kept growing with each connection of your lips. You could hear the fervour in the breathless exhales that exited his nose, the quiet groans that slipped into your mouth. Though the same could be said for you.

You couldn't subdue the moans and meek whimpers that leaked out. Especially when his tongue slipped into your mouth and took control over your own. At this point, you couldn't even be called putty in his arms; you were pure liquid, totally and completely submissive in his embrace.

It was impossible to tell who was throbbing beneath you anymore. All you were sure of was that the pretty lace panties you had put on that morning were now soaked. Though even if he never touched you, you wouldn't have cared. Having his lips on yours, his tongue on yours, was enough. And if he kept at it long enough, you were sure it would even be enough to get you off. That's how much power Finnick had over you.

Apparently, he felt the same too. Because when you leaned further back into him and your ass pushed against the length of his erection, his fist scrunched the fabric of your dress by your hip and his lips left yours to let out a shuddering breath.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he huffed, half chuckling.

Technically, it was a suppressed moan. Either way, you swear you almost came then and there.

With one last gentle kiss, you opened your eyes, pulling away to replenish your lungs with air. Finnick's eyes were already locked on yours in a drunken haze from the taste of your lips. Your arm unwound from his neck, grazing down his broad shoulders and bicep. During so, your eyes caught on the tiny bumps and raised hair scattered across his arm.

"You've got goosebumps," you smiled, trailing your fingertips across his skin.

His gaze moved to follow your hand, wearing a boyish grin. "Would you believe me if I said I was cold?"

Your throat buzzed with a suppressed giggle. Seeing the way his body reacted to yours was incredibly motivating. Someone telling you they lusted after you could easily be spoken with deception. But having visual confirmation, witnessing a reaction that couldn't possibly be forced, was a whole different story. Finnick's body craved you.

Given that incentive, the slight trepidation still holding you back now disappeared into the back of your mind. Your fingers curled around his wrist, dragging the hand beneath your jaw down to your neck, and then down to your chest. It didn't take him too long to figure out your intentions. He overtook your influence and autonomously moved his hand to cup your breast.

You were essentially caged in his embrace. Exactly how you wanted it.

You stared ahead with relaxed eyes, watching as the sun slipped into the dark water. Night had officially blanketed District Four and, now being shielded by darkness, the stars were your only witness. Strangely enough, you felt a new sense of shamelessness.

So as Finnick kneaded your breast in his warm hand and pinched the sensitive peak of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger through the lace of your bra, you allowed a soft moan to escape your lips.

It was almost as if you could actually feel the smirk growing across Finnick's lips behind you. One thing you actually could feel was the twitch of his achingly hard cock beneath you.

"You like that?" he asked, definitely smirking.

"Yes," you sighed almost immediately.

If only he knew how truly euphoric you felt. If only he knew how many times you had imagined being in this exact situation. Having him touching you like this. The guilt of imagining him in such a way used to eat you up. But now that you were past the guilt, there was no shame connected to the thought of Finnick eating you up.

Fuck, he would look so perfect between your thighs—bronze curls all messed up from your pulling and tugging; sea green eyes squeezed shut as he dedicated his attention to dragging you down to the pits of hell with his tongue.

Your head fell back against his collarbone. He took this as a signal to move your hair aside and start planting hot kisses onto the curve of your shoulder. Then he trailed further across, brushing his lips across your skin until he reached the side of your neck and started sucking gently, though enough to leave behind pretty little red marks of possession.

"What about this?" he murmured against the delicate skin.

The faint taste of sea-salted air sat in the back of your throat as your breaths deepened. You felt his tongue glide partially up the length of your carotid artery, and your entire nervous system seemed to short-circuit.

"Yes,"you practically whined.

He must have found this amusing because you could feel the vibrations of his chuckle against your neck. But he wasn't finished yet. Hell, the finish line was a lifetime away regarding the things he planned on doing to you. They probably couldn't all be done in one night though, unfortunately.

You had completely forgotten about the hand still splayed on your hip. Why would you pay it any attention when it was sitting idle? Only it wasn't simply resting on your hip anymore. No. Now it was moving. Moving down.

His lips were still on your neck and he was still cupping your breast, but all you could focus on was the carnal descent of his hand. He found the hem of your dress, fingers toying with the flimsy material as one did when deciding whether or not to go through with something potentially consequential. Ultimately, he began to drag the fabric up your thighs, knuckles grazing over your soft skin until the skirt of your dress was ruched around your hips.

You sucked in a sharp breath. The vulnerability of suddenly being exposed in such a manner hit you like a tonne of bricks. This was really happening. Finnick, the Capitol's darling, District Four's golden boy, and more significant;y, your best friend, was touching you. He was kissing you. He was seeing and feeling parts of your body you had never let him see or feel before.

Naturally, this unfurling web of thoughts produced a surge of insecurity.

But, when his hand curled around your inner thigh and spread a wildfire of warmth across your skin, every thought that was previously passing through your mind disintegrated and was replaced with unadulterated yearning.

Finnick's mouth finally detached from your neck to hover beside your ear. "And this?"

He lightly kneaded your thigh to emphasise his question, dangerously close to the place that undoubtedly crossed the boundary between friend and lover.

You were speechless. The desire running through your veins was paralysing. All you could do was look, see, feel, and hope to god you didn't pass out from the shallowness of your breathing.

"Come on, sweetheart," he roused in that low, seductive purr. "Don't go quiet on me now. Use your words."

And how could you ever disobey a voice like that? It took every ounce of strength and concentration you had in you, but eventually, you managed to find your voice.

"I—" You cut yourself off with a gasp as his thumb purposefully wandered up to the edge of your underwear. Asshole. "I lie awake every night imagining us like this, Finn. You don't need permission to touch me. You've already had it for months."

Suddenly, a gentle finger was turning your chin, compelling you to meet Finnick's gaze. His eyes lacked the intensity from before and were now brimming with awe, brows knitted as if he was asking for confirmation if what you had said was truthful. And it was, painfully so.

To answer his wordless question, you leaned forward and connected your lips with his. He responded with ardency, and not long after, you could feel his hand wander up to the waistband of your panties.

He wasted not a second before dipping his hand beneath the lace material and finding that sensitive spot that had been begging for his attention.

Your lips separated from his to let out a breathy moan. "Finnick."

He simply smiled, two fingers rubbing circles around your clit. He pressed gentle coaxing kisses to your lips, and you really did try to respond, but you were never one for multitasking. Especially when the man you had fallen in love with was touching you so.

His other hand wandered across your torso, holding your waist, grazing over your stomach, tracing the length of your sternum. All very loving adorations compared to what his other hand was doing.

"I think I'm going to hell because of you," he murmured, millimetres away from your lips. Such a disconcerting thing for someone to admit, but all you could manage was a hum in response. "Every time I see you, I can feel myself getting closer and closer. You derange my thoughts, sweetheart. You corrupt them.

How am I supposed to be around you if I want to fuck you every time you say my name? And what makes it so much more impossible is that you don't even mean to make me feel this way; you just do. God, you're maddening. So sweet and maddening," he cooed, fingers picking up in pace which caused you to melt back into his chest and let out a pretty little moan. "Drives me crazy."

"And to think," you managed, "I thought you had your hands between my legs because you hated me."

Your hips were rolling lightly along with the rhythm of his fingers.

At the very same time Finnick's thighs tensed around your hips from the friction against his cock, he abruptly plunged two fingers inside you. Punishment.

The moan you let out was positively filthy.

"Such an attitude you have," he said. "Anyone would think you're completely innocent in a dress like this. But I know better than that." His fingers slid in and out, curling every time the base of his fingers bottomed out inside of you. "I know exactly why you wore it. Just like I know exactly why you wore those lace panties you pretend that I can't see whenever you bend over."

Heat crept up into your cheeks from hearing his words. You wanted to provoke him by saying 'And look where it got me'but who knew how his fingers would respond to your attitude.

"You can't do that to a man," he continued. "It's criminal."

"It's only fair, Finn," you breathed out, struggling to keep your voice level. "You ruined me."

A deep moan rumbled in his chest, though it never escaped. He couldn't break that easily. He needed to remain in control. This moment, to him, seemed like an eternity forthcoming. He needed to make the most of this moment with you, needed to show you what it was like to receive earth-shattering pleasure so that you only ever wanted to receive it from him. No one else.

Despite his obvious attempts at keeping himself in check, you could still feel his thick impatient cock twitch beneath your ass. Even through the layers of clothing between you, you could tell that he was incredibly big. So much so that it worried you a little. Only, when his fingers curled again, you forgot all about it.

The pads of his fingertips buried into your inner walls with every curl. The heel of his palm struck your clit with every thrust of his fingers and you could feel your stomach start tightening. Fuck, he was amazing at this.

It had been so long since someone had touched you like this. Well, someone that was actually good at it. Just a few minutes and Finnick was already about to make you come.

"Feels so good, so—ah—good!" you moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

He reached a free hand up to your breast, lightly pinching your nipple between his fingers until you let out a gasp. At least one of you was good at multitasking.

"You gonna come?" he asked, not that he even needed an answer. He could feel the way your walls were contracting around his fingers, feel the sticky warmth of your slick leaking onto his knuckles.

You nodded fervently.

"Say please first."

"Finn," you whined in frustration.

You could hear him chuckle self-satisfyingly behind you. "Come on, baby. Sweet girls are supposed to have manners, aren't they?"

His low, husky voice almost threw you over the edge. Oh, how you would love to listen to the sound of him talking you through your orgasm. That is if he ever even let you get to that point.

Never had you ever thought you would be pleading with a man for anything, yet here you were. Though, Finnick Odair could hardly be called a man. He was so much more than that; he was bordering on divinity. And you weren't going to miss the chance of being unravelled at the hands of a divine being.

"Please, Finnick," you begged, your body literally buzzing with desperation. "Please make me come."

He pressed a kiss below your earlobe. "Since you asked so nicely."

His fingers picked up in pace. They weren't even plunging in and out anymore but were rather curling, over and over again in that electrifying spot inside you. He went hard and fast, working to bring you to your high as quickly as possible. Your moans were so unrestrained, so breathless and shallow that you started to feel the world spin around you.

Your hand flew back to hold onto his arm, nails digging into the hard muscles of his bicep. Your hips were writhing in Finnick's lap and you could hear him groan out a string of curses. He held you down by the hip to try and keep you still, then moved across to the bottom of your abdomen where he pressed down.

That is what did it for you.

You cried out as tightness spread down your stomach and pure ecstasy took control. Finnick murmured words of praise and reassurance as you rode through your high, though a lot of it didn't register in your mind. You heard only a few bits and pieces which were enough to prolong the feeling that was overwhelming your entire body.

"Taking it so well."

"That's it, sweetheart. That's it."

"Such a good girl."

As the waves of pleasure slowly began to subside, you returned to reality. The heat that had been building up inside you started melting away, leaving you in a state of relaxation. Your fingers, which previously clung onto Finnick's arm, now grazed absentmindedly across his skin. It felt like you had been sucked into a dream—a little hazy and surreal, but incredibly tranquil.

"You okay?" Finnick asked softly.

You hadn't even noticed that his fingers had left your body. He had pulled down the hem of your dress— not that your dignity really needed saving anymore—and was holding your melted figure in his arms.

"Mm," you hummed contently, eyes fixed on the view in front of you. "Warmed up."

If only you were able to see his face, his smile. Those dimples. A powerful longing to be able to see every expression known to man morph his facial features washed over you. It was a little ridiculous how attracted to him you were. Nonetheless, you indulged the desire.

You pushed yourself from his lap and pivoted to face him

You were straddling his lap before any ounce of hesitation could hold you back. Finnick circled his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. He was smiling. He was smiling and it was even more beautiful than any sunset you had ever witnessed. You concluded that you had definitely made the right choice in deciding to face him.

"Hi," you whispered.

He smiled. "Hey, stranger."

He brushed back a few pieces of hair from your face, observing the blown size of your pupils and the sultry colour of your lips. He did that—he could not get over the fact that he did that to you. Finally.

You shrunk away from his gaze, a timid smile on your lips.

Finnick tilted his head slightly. "Shy thing."

You buried your face into the side of his neck, groaning quietly in embarrassment. You could hear the perfect sound of him laughing above you. He stroked the length of your spine, somehow managing to ease the nerves from your body with a simple touch. You left a quick kiss on the warm skin of his neck and rose back up to meet his gaze.

"Feeling better?"

"Much," you replied, sheepishly. Your eyes flickered across Finnick's, hesitated, and then gestured downwards. "But... you're not." His head tilted as though he were confused as to what you were suggesting, so you leaned in closer until your lips ghosted over his. "Still need to take care of you."

A breath of warm air fanned across your face as he chuckled. He shook his head. "It's alright. I can hold off for another time."

And although the prospect of doing this again another time was downright exhilarating, you couldn't ignore the palpable heat still lingering in your lower stomach, throbbing between your thighs. You could only imagine how he must have been feeling—cock throbbing with a need for relief, though ready to deny himself the same amount of pleasure he just gave you.

You suddenly curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought him into a slow kiss. To show him he was allowed to indulge himself. That you wanted him to. You ground your hips down on his lap and felt his lips falter against yours.

You pulled back and echoed your previous words, "It's only fair, Finn."

Time seemed to pause for a moment. Your breath and his mixed with one another in a sort of hot whirlwind of anticipation. Your bodies were still. Finnick's eyes were half-lidded staring at your mouth.

Then came the explosion.

His hands were hastily tugging your sundress over your head; his lips were on yours as he reached down between your bodies to unbutton his pants. It felt like a race against time. Like if you didn't do this now, the chance would never come by again. Hell, his pants hadn't even made it off his legs before he was holding himself in his hand and you were rising to your knees, positioning yourself directly above his length.

Your lips never left his, strenuous as it was, meaning the only gauge you got of how big he was wasn't from seeing it, but from feeling it as you pulled your panties aside, guided his cock to your entrance with one hand, and felt the entire veiny length of him fill you completely as you lowered yourself onto him.

A quiet, synchronised gasp left both your lips as you enveloped him completely in wet velvety warmth. His pelvis was connected with yours and his cock was pressed right up against your cervix. So incredibly deep, you could almost feel him in your stomach.

You stayed like this for a few seconds.

"So big," you gasped against his lips.

His hands were on your back, dragging up and down. "Want to stop?"

"Never."

This was so not what friends did.

He trailed kisses from your mouth, to your jaw, and down to your neck. You were grinding sinuously back and forth, Finnick's hands now on your hips as a guide, feeling his tip bury into the sensitive walls inside you. Your head fell back with a gratified moan as he nipped your neck unforgivingly, only to soothe the spots he marked with the glide of his tongue.

At that moment, the past and future were of no significance. The idea that doing this might ruin your relationship with him afterwards didn't concern you. You didn't bother recollecting a time when you and Finnick were merely friends, nor did you ponder how you even managed to reach this point.

All you could focus on was how fucking perfect his cock felt inside of you.

The cold, which was previously a nuisance, now served as a stimulant to your nipples which were only covered by the thin unpadded material of your lace bra. They were bouncing with every movement you made, the hard peaks rubbing against Finnick's chest and creating a triangle of pleasure between them and the depravity that was happening further below.

He was so hungry in the way he kissed you. His lips were soft, but they moved with heat and determination. His tongue was supple as it pushed against yours, moving masterfully in a way you could only compare to how he swam in the ocean. A conqueror—able to bring you into submission with ease.

You pushed yourself upwards, the muscles in your thighs slightly burning as you did so, and felt his cock glide through you. He inhaled harshly through his nose when his tip almost left your wet heat, and then groaned into your mouth when your hips sunk back down, engulfing him once again.

"Shit," he almost whined as your walls clenched around him. "I fuckinglove you."

You pulled away to look him in the eyes. It was incredibly difficult for you to contemplate his words—his confession—when he was, what, eight or so inches deep inside you?

He didn't look like he regretted saying it. He was simply staring at you with raised brows pinched together in pleasure, awaiting your response as you continued your sequence of rising and sinking to fill yourself up with his cock.

"You love me?" you asked in a laboured breath. He only nodded in response. You sank fully down onto his lap, discontinuing your movements, willing him to prove his so-declared devotion. "Then show me."

He was breathing heavily and watching you through strands of sea-salted hair messily splayed across his forehead. He was so beautiful it actually kind of hurt to look at him. His eyes fell to your mouth during this brief amnesty, a decision prominent in his mind. Then he was rushing forward, crushing his lips to yours and forcing your body to lay back on the mat beneath you.

Finnick somehow managed to remain inside you as he switched your positions—him now above you as your legs were wrapped around his waist. His body pinned you down with a comfortable weight, skin warm and flush against yours.

He was overpowering and dominating, and his thrusts were laced with a sense of appropriation like he was making you his. The slow grinds of his hips were hard yet measured and so breathtakingly deep, and the gentle upwards curve of his cock made sure his tip was prodding against that swollen pleasure-inducing spot every single time.

His kisses were sensual and slow; his tongue slipping languidly into your mouth, swirling and massaging your tongue like it was made of pure silk.

You had told him what to do—now he was showing you. Finnick Odair wasn't fucking you. He was making love to you.

Your hands were on his back, fingertips leaving red marks on the curves of his shoulder blades. You moved up to his hair, scratching your nails softly into his scalp, which earned you a soft moan in your mouth. Even you could feel yourself pulsing around his cock. Everything he did, every sound and action he made, had your body yielding to him.

His hand pulled you up into him by the waist, arching your back off the palm-leaf mat so that he was thrusting more profoundly into that blissful spot inside you. He never sped up his pace. He didn't need to. He was savouring the moment as much as he could, memorising each warm ripple of your walls his cock glided over inside you, every intoxicating moan your soft lips released, the pressure of your warm supple thighs hugging his waist.

He was committing every aspect of you to memory. Inside and out.

Having that knowledge only made the moment so much more pleasurable. Knowing that he wasn't just thinking about you with his cock, but was thinking about you with his heart too.

That feeling started creeping up inside you—the blissful burn of heat pooling in your lower stomach. It made your walls flutter around him. Made you whine and moan uncontrollably into his mouth until you couldn't focus on kissing him anymore and had to pull away.

Your head fell back onto the mat, hair strewn out around you. The sounds coming out of you were pure sin. Desperate, greedy sin.

Finnick chuckled adoringly above you. "Too fucked out, sweetheart?"

He couldn't exactly talk. The second you clenched around him again, he groaned out a curse and you—the parts of your mind that were still relatively comprehensible—were sure you could feel the warmth of pre-cum ooze inside you.

"Finnick," you mewled, and he caressed the baby hairs framing your face. "Feels so good. Should—should've done this sooner."

Through your half-lidded eyes, you watched as he nodded and then descended to your forehead, pressing his lips tenderly against your skin. I know, the gesture said. You felt a rush of affection flood through your body, ultimately accelerating the build-up happening inside you.

You could feel yourself teetering so impossibly close to the brink of your orgasm. The tightness inside you was so hot and overwhelming; it was a struggle for you to keep your eyes from fluttering shut and rolling back, though you willed yourself to keep them open. You had to.

Watching Finnick's face contort with pleasure as he's thrown into his own high from feeling your walls contract around him would probably be the highlight of your entire life.

"So beautiful," he cooed as he thrusted into you. "My sweet girl's gonna come, isn't she? Can feel it."

The words flew out of your mouth. "Come inside me."

"Come inside you?"

You were pretty sure he was mocking you from the devilish curve of his lips and furrow of his brows. But your lust-drunk brain didn't really care.

"Please. Wanna feel you—" Your chest heaved with each breath "—everywhere."

Finnick was so obviously trying to keep himself from giving in before you. But you could see how delirious his eyes were as they stared down at you and you heard how every low, gratified—frustratingly sexy—sound he made betrayed him. He was so close.

"Anything for you, sweetheart," he said, finally.

He managed to unhook your hands from around his back and guided them upwards, holding your wrists together above your head with one hand before he brought his other back to your waist. It was oddly romantic how he held you, given that he was fucking you like life after that night wasn't guaranteed.

And then, without warning, he was pounding into you, bottoming out completely with each thrust.

It was almost animalistic now—how you were both unable to control yourselves anymore. You were writhing beneath him, impulsively fighting against the grip he had on your wrists. And Finnick, well, he was fucking you so hard, you weren't sure if walking home that night would be a possibility.

He was a disaster of pleasured vocals, deep moans, and heavy breaths. You thanked the absolute heavens he was because it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard in your entire life.

When your own moans started to rise in pitch, you knew you were done for. You felt so full. Stretched out to the max. Blinded by the heat that was drowning you. But your eyes managed to remain clear and locked on Finnick's the entire time, just as his were on yours.

With a fleeting glance downward, he once again placed a large hand over your abdomen and pushed down, and your back arched off the ground.

You were gone.

"Oh fuck!"

The heat, white and fiery, had consumed you. Your thighs tensed uncontrollably around Finnick, your body shaking beneath him as your insides pulsed all the way down to your stuffed entrance. White, sticky sweetness covered Finnick's cock as he continued to thrust into you, the wet sounds overpowering the waves cresting on the sands. It felt like fucking heaven.

He let out a moan, broken and breathless, and released the grip he had on your hands. In that short moment, you instantly gripped onto him, feeling his body shudder beneath your hands as his throbbing cock spurted out ropes of warmth deep inside you, the essence of both of you mixing inside your body, making you one.

You pulled him down and crushed your lips to his with a sudden intense urge to be as close to him as you could, if it were even possible to be any closer to him at that point. It felt a little spiritual, the way you practically wanted to merge your body with his. That's what having sex with someone you truly loved was like, you supposed.

The kiss was sloppy and messy, but it never lacked heat or affection. Lacking heat was impossible between you and Finnick.

A lot of time passed before either of you even contemplated pulling away from one another. Finnick was inside you for what must have been a good half hour after you had both finished. It felt close. Deeply intimate. He held you in his arms, his hands mapping out various parts of your body with unhurried measure as you lay beneath him, lazily yet affectionately making out with warm, reddened lips.

There were quiet giggles and heated words whispered between you that would have prompted another session had either of you been graced with the energy.

But it was late. The remnants of the sun had long since disappeared beneath the horizon, dimming the sky to a deep dark blue, the world's only source of illumination being the stars casting their sparkling light on the rippling water.

It was a new moon.

Eventually, you ended up laying over his chest, legs strewn across his as you both faced the ocean. Your head rose and fell with each breath Finnick took and it felt unreal.

You were momentarily worried your infatuation with him had grown too out of hand and you had imagined the whole day, or perhaps, the entire time you had known him. That it was all a figment of your vivid imagination.

Then, his warm hand slid into your own, which was draped across his stomach, and you knew that this, the newfound relationship between you and Finnick, was undeniably and rapturously real.

He slowly lifted them together above your bodies, palms flat against one another. There was a notable size difference between them—his palm was large and calloused with long fingers that squared off at the tips, meanwhile, your own fist could probably fit into his palm.

Your fingers danced delicately together as you both watched from below. He traced the length of your fingers with his fingertips; followed the etches in your palm, and turned your hand to explore the protrusions of your knuckles. There was a certain gentle curiosity in his touch, similar to that of someone who was discovering the act of human connection for the first time.

"I don't know if I can walk home," you whispered.

Finnick lowered your interlocked hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles before placing them back on his stomach. "I'll carry you."

"For an entire hour?"

"I'll manage," he said, "I've got muscles."

You scoffed quietly to yourself, smiling. "Ok, big strong man."

"Says the girl who needs to be carried home."

"Well, you are kind of the one to blame for that."

You tilted your head to glance up at him and found exactly what you were expecting to see. He was wearing a proud grin, all apple cheeks and crinkled eyes. It was something you had come to adore, even though sometimes it was out of arrogance.

Your head turned to rest back on his chest. You watched as his thumb caressed slow circles over your knuckle.

"What you said before," you began, "is it true? Do you really... love me?"

The heart beating beneath your ear genuinely sounded like it skipped a beat. You imagined that was a good sign, though your nerves were still a little frayed. What if he had only said it because of the heat of the moment?

A beat went by. "I've been trying to tell you ever since I first wove the mat for you," he confessed, his voice quiet yet holding the weight of the history that made up your friendship.

There it was—the truth laid bare. Despite hearing the words, it didn't really change anything. You suspected deep down you knew the entire time; you were just too self-doubting to accept it. To accept that Finnick Odair, the crown jewel of Panem, had fallen in love with you, an ordinary girl from District Four who just so happened to meet him at a secret beach.

Although, there was a sensation you remember upon first meeting him. That instinct that had told you to stay instead of running away, as any logical human being would do upon being approached by a stranger in the middle of nowhere. That instinct, despite sounding utterly ridiculous, caused you to believe that perhaps it was fate.

Maybe you were destined to meet. Maybe it didn't matter that he was a nationwide celebrity, nor you a simple town girl. Maybe your souls were entwined from the start and, one way or another, you would have met anyway.

Maybe.

"That's a long time," you said.

He laughed. "Yeah, well, I thought you would've gotten the hint by now."

And you couldn't help but join him. You thought you were the one who was deranged out of their mind. Here Finnick was telling you he had spent an entire year trying to confess his love without you even realising.

"I'm sorry it took me so long."

"It's alright," he said, earnestly. "I'd say it worked out pretty well. I mean, look where your obliviousness got us."

You smiled. Your legs were tangled with Finnick's; his arm was holding you tightly against his bare upper body, and his fingers were lovingly tracing over yours. Yeah, you were pretty grateful for your obliviousness sometimes. A new pair of underwear might have been something to consider, though.

A silence settled between you, comfortable, peaceful. Being in Finnick's embrace almost made you forget entirely about the reality of your existence—the Games, the dominion over Panem, the chaotic environment back home. It was the reason you had set off last year in search of a place away from society.

You had now found that the escape you were looking for wasn't a place or a hidden paradise, but a person. It was Finnick.

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

The trees and palm leaves danced in the light breeze. Waves lapped on the shore.

You angled your head back to look at Finnick and felt him pull you closer. His expression was a picture of relaxation and contentment. His eyes gazed down at you, glimmering with the reflection of scattered stars in the night sky, just like the sea in front of you.

He seemed to already know what you were going to say. Always the mind reader.

"Say it, sweetheart." The corners of his lips twitched expectantly.

Sweetheart. Oh, how could you have ever felt for him in any other way?

"I love you too."

His face broke into one of the happiest smiles you had ever seen.

...roll credits

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pixiecaps · 1 year ago

Text

hm okay so these are all federation owned islands. the purgatory one USED to be something known as an egg island. however it has clearly changed. this explains why the federation cucurucho cinematic referred to it as a chill place that would be heaven and paradise.

the watcher refers to them being sent there as “they were so kind to send you this way.” clearly the they is the federation. which insinuates the federation/cucurucho had some established conversation with whoever runs this island to send them here. or at least that the watcher somehow KNEW they were being sent here. but here’s the one important thing the federation knew what they were doing to the islanders because elq knew. he was aware of where he was going when he took qq’s ticket, he knew. so the federation very purposefully sent them to this godawful place while they do “maintenance” to the dark matter.

i also am taking note of the religious imagery. cucurucho calling this new island heaven and then the watcher calling them sinners and saying egg island was to be a cute place that they would have loved and specifically “People LIKE YOU do not deserve a pleasant little break from the stresses of your previous island island. so I’VE taken the liberty of changing this place.” so outright stating it knew they were coming relocated AND THEN purposefully changed the calm nature of what this island was into a hellscape as a form of punishment for the islanders because it HATES them. for whatever reason it seems to have it feels like a very passionate form of hate. it called them VERMIN. it fully leads me to believe the watcher knows a lot of information about the islanders and their pasts. or has been fed some information to believe they deserve this cruelty.

the direct contrast of this island compared to their own really strikes me as interesting because obviously they’re imprisoned on quesadilla island but purgatory truly is PURGATORY. in the lore they’ve never had to worry about dehydration, food rotting, etc. all aspects of their lives that they took blissfully for granted. almost as if the federation WANTED them to realize how good they have it. or seem to have it compared to purgatory. and as a reminder purgatory is a place to cleanse your sins so in a way the federation sending the islanders there is a way for them to get them reformed. show them true punishment for all the rule breaking. and get them to a mental state where they’re more likely to obey when they return. to be happy.

this part of what the watcher said was interesting, “i’m sure you’re already hungering and dehydrating. good. whatever makes it harder for you to live.” so again literally stating the whole point of the trials and tribulations is to make them suffer MORE.

the element of a cursed team is the most interesting because that does directly impact the attempt of working together. someone has to lose. someone will lose. “What team is that? Can you figure that out? No.” this felt interesting to me because with the whole thought of a cursed team it seems like you could figure it out easily. i’d say the majority of the audience already has their guesses. but i was thinking about taking this sentence very LITERALLY. they can’t figure it out. because it’s not decided yet. it’ll be decided at the end. perhaps. maybe. who fucking knows. but obviously the threat of all their lives and the eggs is an interesting aspect because that means if theres one cursed team the other two won’t have that punishment if they lose. whichever of the three teams wins gets a “big prize” but the main focus is on this supposed cursed team. because if THEY lose then the eggs are all dead. the probability is very interesting to me. i really wonder why that team cursed specifically and how its chosen.

anyways that was interesting

#qsmp analysis

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eerna · 6 months ago

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eerna what's going on in s3 bridgerton your posts and answers making me scared to watch on my life lmao

pls don't hate me, Colin lovers, but I was told by a friend who read the series that he's more fun and chill in the books and also i just....find Polin from even s1 is kinda uhhhhh?awkward?? cuz he's kind of unnecessarily serious and so not chill in the previous seasons?? maybe i don't see his appeal because I'm no Penny but i do not see his appeal in the show

so rn i haven't even watched it and seeing your posts is making me moreeeeeee 😶‍🌫️ it's okay give us the cringey details

Nsbysbbsb NO WORRIES!!! I have a weirdly big amount to say about this show bc I am no longer suffering as much as I did in s1 and 2. Prepare for an essay on my feelings on Polin and thank you for enabling me.

Ok so Colin. Not saying your friend is wrong bc I didn't read the book, but p much everyone I saw talking about it said Colin was very angry and aggressive in it, and for NO REASON since he's supposed to be the "calm brother". I'm glad that the show let him get upset, but never the way he was in the books/Anthony was in s2, where I legit worried about Kate's safety sometimes. Colin was my fav Bridgerton brother bc he was totally different from all the other men on the show, calm and silly and romantic.

Thar being said!!! I never ever thought of him as a GOOD love interest, and s3 only made it worse. First off, yeah, s1 and 2 do NOT show him and Pen as friends nearly enough to warrant the speed of their connection in s3. I blocked s2 from my memory bc I hated it So Damn Much so I can't 100% stand behind my words, but I don't really remember many friendly scenes with the two of them that didn't feel like he was just entertaining his sister's bestie? I remember he once danced with her, and he sent her letters from his travels, and that's it. Then in s3 we are supposed to believe Pen knows him soooo well, she sees through his tricks when no one else does, he can't stand losing her friendship when she stops talking to him. How, when the impression I got from their relationship was "oh she is clearly silly in love and he doesn't care about her enough to notice"!!!

And s3... Oh boy. Colin gets his "glowup" and becomes a rake bc Bridgerton writers would probably spontaneously combust if they wrote a virgin male lead. We see him flirt and smash other women and it is always so so so awkward. I've seen people trying to rationalize it as "Oh he is supposed to be pretending, oh we are supposed to find it cringe" but NO, he is objectified the exact same way Simon and Anthony were, and we as the audience are supposes to think it is sexy. To be fair, Pen finds it concerning but I think that has more to do with the amount of silly, vapid women constantly swarming around him. So now we are even FURTHER away from seeing any reasons why the two of them would be friends. And then we get hit with the "Colin teaches Pen how to find a husband" plot, and oh my god it is so bad, IT IS SO BAD, they have like 2 lessons across 1 episode before they are busted and stop and he literally taught her NOTHING she IGNORED HIS ADVICE AND FIGURED IT OUT BY HERSELF but everyone treats him like a war hero for taking one for the team and teaching the poor unlikeable social reject how to act. We also have the stupid scene where she is criyng begging him to kiss her because she is convinced otherwise she would die without being kissed, and he is trying to elegantly avoid it, and oh my god, I hated this, it is framed as cute and romantic but it is so uncomfortable and bad. AAAAAAAA. Anyway. Then there is this hilariously horrible incident where he saves her from a feral balloon, and if you are wondering wtf am I talking about, its because it is really bad and written like a Scary Movie slasher scene. There are exactly 3 moments that I liked, and ALL of them were bc Colin seemed very lost and desperate. First was when Pen told him they should stay away from each other after the scandal of them hanging out came out (which I liked bc if it were any other girl, some unhinged character would force them to marry, but since it was Pen they were like "Well obviously it's true there was nothing untowards happening it is just cringe haha loserrr"), and he looked like he stopped comprehending English. The second was when he was confessing his feelings, he got on his knees and looked like he was about to cry and I thought that was sweet! Well, he did mention torture which is a very ugly word to use in such a speech, but whatever. The third was after the Infamous Carriage Scene when he says something silly and the two giggle together and I was like PLEASE WHERE WAS THIS ENERGY IN S1 AND 2!!

And may I just say!! The actual Bridgerton Glowup one was PEN and NOT COLIN. In s1 and 2 you could tell she was pretty, but in s3 they made her so damn beautiful that my friends and I would go "Oh wow" several times per episode. And it's not only the clothes, they would put her in rooms where she pops out and sparkles and frame her in shots just perfectly. Idk why they only gave her 1 alternate love interest and then shot her Like That, there should have been at LEAST one more guy following in Debling's trail. Now she's the hot one in the relationship so I can't buy her desperation for Colin's approval or society's perception of Colin as a charity in any way.

With all that said. I think this is the best season of Bridgerton proper. It still isn't something I'd enjoy unironically, but at least it is neither a horrible age gap dynamic feat. SA nor a horrible disgusting juggling of sisters feat. murderer vibes. The only thing I'd say is worse than it used to be is the clothes, which are slowly creeping towards The Reign level of ahistorical and bad.

#eernask #petratherrock #eernask talk bridgerton #bridgerton spoilers

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cdroloisms · 4 months ago

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my dsmp hot take is that while yes c!dream was a villain and a bad guy (tho i'd argue he's morally dark grey rather than pure evil) his personality was not often the ultra crazy over the top anime esq villain some of the fandom paints him to be

Like everything from his line delivery to his mannerisms and tone made him seem like just some guy? Like just a actual seemingly normal dude who'd I'd say is unsettlingly casual a lot of the time about the things he does and says, which is what makes c!Dream and ccDream's performance of the character rather compelling and interesting to watch... imo at least. This is not to say that c!dream never has his big obvious villain moments but to me those moments truly stand out because of how he often is played so human and passing for almost normal most of the time

Anyways I really love c!dream, he's one of my favorite characters of all time because of how understated and human he is a lot of the time until the moments you remember why he's a threat in the first place.....it's just...aaaaaa he's so interesting and cool I wanna analyze him under a microscope

I ... am not sure if I'm following your argument but that's probably a me problem. It's true, c!Dream's actual personality isn't only the overdramatic villain act that somehow overshadowed like, everything about him to a large portion of the fandom. That being said, I would definitely argue that a large portion if not a majority of c!Dream's most overtly villainous moments and actions definitely didn't read as casual to me? tbh "casual" and "normal" are hard words re: c!Dream because the guy ... kind of fails at having any chill literally ever LMAO like even his more faux chill moments (such as the front he keeps up in Daedalus) are very hard for me to describe as casual--though that's just me, and might be a more subjective matter of how we define things lol. That being said, a lot of how c!Dream wields people's perception of him is absolutely about using the villain deal as a shield and smokescreen, which usually meant going full throttle with acting like a Disney movie villain (see: Spirit Speech, Green Festival, Doomsday, Staged Finale, etc.) to intimidate people. Of course, there's an argument for c!Dream acting 'casual' during Exile in mannerisms compared to his more ... overtly villainous acting in the aforementioned scenes, but even then basically every moment we see from his character from the second he betrays Pogtopia for the book (and goes on his whole For Chaos spiel to c!Tommy which had c!Tommy very visibly like ???? bro what the fuck) is so. Different from how this guy acted earlier on in the server that 'casual' as it means between the time period of November 2020 - January 2021 for c!Dream is a whole different ballpark from casual in summer 2020, you feel? Like, though they were definitely wrong, there's a reason why literal demon possession became such a prevalent theory around that time, because bro what the fuck.

It depends on how you look at it, I guess, but I really don't think being underestimated as a villain is like. Ever something that really features in this guy's story, at least from an in-universe perspective--people are primed to think the worst of him from quite early on in the story and the influence of that sticks as he keeps spiraling worse until the prison. Even when he "passes as normal" to the audience bc he's not playing up the villain show to convince people he's too much of a threat to handle, c!Dream-as-the-final-boss c!Dream-as-villain are ideas that very much precede the moments that are most obviously c!Dream wearing the villain title as a mask (which, makes sense--he's not the originator of c!Dream-as-villain as a concept, it's just something he uses to his advantage when the server has already decided that this is Who He Is and then eventually internalizes and attaches to his identity). I think that the big twist for a lot of people, audience and in-universe, comes from poking through the image crafted for him and by him to recognize the just-some-guy behind the villain's mantle -- which is part of why [gestures at the prison arc] like, all of that -- because for a lot of people, regardless of the humanity that c!Dream was literally always played with or even the literal history of the server preserved in vods that many of them had watched live, the power of the story established during the Revolution in and out of canon meant that every problem came him (stated by c!Quackity around the time of Dethronement, objectively untrue at the time) and everything he said was manipulation (gestures at Quackity's chat the day of Mexican L'manburg negotiations) and anything that humanized him was falling for his tricks (poor Bubbles' tumblr post 😭😭😭). It's true that there's no shortage of "just some guy" c!Dream moments to choose from--it's also true, imo, that what really governs c!Dream's story from start to finish is the mask of the villain that he is given and wears and becomes and then the dismantling of it.

#my asks !!#dsmp hot takes #idk if this makes sense?#like the two aspects are very important yes: c!dream as just some guy and c!dream as the villain #but it's interesting to me to argue that the compelling part is the villain hiding behind the regular human of it all #when honestly what really seemed to overwhelm the fandom perception /and/ his canon reputation #was the way c!dream-as-villain overtook EVERYTHING until he himself kind of forgot that it wasn't who he always was #of course i can't argue anything abt your perception of the story #but yeagh . anyway. hopefully i didnt completely misunderstand ur ask LOL

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epickiya722 · 8 months ago

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Oh you liked it!

But yeah just... Fantasy and all of that but sometime I'm tired that people can't enjoy any characters without having to wash them down to be their fantasy husband

This is a trend in fandom that makes me want to be around less and less

Sure did! I feel like when it comes to liking villain characters specifically, if you actually like that character there should be no need to water them down. Otherwise, that is just a whole OC you just created.

For Sukuna, I don't think he should have a sad backstory. Him having one? Seems absurd, I'm sorry to those that may think otherwise, but that's how I feel.

I don't mind sad backstories. But at the same time, I don't need them to be a reason why a villain became a villain all the time for every villain in the story.

It's why I love Sukuna's attitude to Kashimo's question in 237. He answers "I was an unwanted child" but barely shows any sadness for it. If anything, he brushes it off like "hm, well, anyways".

It's like... if Sukuna doesn't care, why should we?

I doubt the mangaka wants us to feel a hint of sympathy, empathy or whatever else for Sukuna because not once has Sukuna been shown to do something that is out of his will to be nice. He only really praises people for their strength but only because he had a good fight. He's satisfied with being entertained for that time.

We should feel enraged by his actions. He should hate him. I said it before, but from my standpoint as someone who writes, I think Gege is writing Sukuna the way he is right now because the whole purpose is to not like this guy or his actions. People call it glazing, but to me that's just storytelling. When you're telling a story, you would want your audience to feel a range of emotions, right? People are annoyed that Sukuna seemingly ain't going down, but maybe that's the whole point. You should feel annoyed.

Let's keep him that way. Like, let canon Sukuna just be a ruthless monster. I think it would be fitting that he's opposite of Yuji in that sense as he is the reason Yuji is suffering.

Sukuna -> the big bad, no empathy for him

Yuji -> the big good, a lot of empathy for him

Just to add on, some times I do feel like people tend to water down villainous characters that they like is because they get people who are to quick to judge them for it. Its like they have to do such a such to not seem like a bad person and for all we know, that person is the kindest person someone could ever meet. But those who judge them for their character palette wouldn't know that because they're too busy sending hate messages over a fictional character.

Haters, yes they are, seem to forget that a fan of a villain can also not approve of their actions and like the villain because of the flavor they add to the story. "You like Sukuna, so you must also be as evil!"

No, buddy, I like Sukuna because he is an entertaining character. But given the chance, I would punch the absolute shit out of him.

With canon writing, I feel it's kinda the same for writers. Sometimes, they may feel they have to resort to making the bad guys somehow able for the readers to empathize them to lighten the backlash they get because nowadays people have absolutely no fucking chill and are quick to send death threats.

People are assholes. They are.

#kiya answers #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk spoilers #jjk manga spoilers #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryoumen sukuna #sukuna ryoumen

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painterofhorizons · 10 months ago

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Criminal Minds Evolution... Rant, under the cut. Aka here's random things I dislike about it and because CM played a bit role in my creative life I'm making it everyone's problem here.

So... It's on German free TV the first time and I'm poking in and... Let's just say I'm not the targeted audience. Sigh.

When they first said they would do another season I was very excited. Not so much verbaut I enjoyed the past few seasons, but because I enjoy the series overall, have done so since I was a teenager. So the team getting back together was something that made me happy (they could have just made it a road trip to Italy vacation movie with everyone having good food chilling at the pool movie for my taste).

Then when Evolution aired and I've second hand seen it here on tumblr, I was already ugh. Very gruesome, and covid centric. And let's face it, we have all gone through years of pandemic, and it's exhausting as fuck, and I don't need to see that shit on TV in my recreational time as well. I can't stand that with any movie or series. It was okay on 911, I don't remember it was made huge there. Like it was the setting, but not so much the theme? It felt like that, and it was okay. In Evolution (or the episode of it that's running rn) it's like BAM IN YOUR FACE HERE IS EVERYTHING THAT SUCKS ABOUT COVID IN CASE YOU DIDN'T NOTICE.

Anyways. I'm not the target audience for this theme. Which is okay. But there's more reasons this season feels ugh.

David Rossi has a different German voice actor. Which probably has good reasons, but it breaks my ears.

The characters all feel very very ooc?! Garcia what's wrong with you? Rossi? Emily? Like Emily for real?? And why AGAIN break Rossi with another dead wife? Are the writers that lazy, really? Couldn't they come up with ANYTHING different? Did they hire a noob to write that?

So, yeah

Just a few random big no no's that disappoint me about the new season. I'm not sad I didn't watch it until now, and I don't think I'll watch it completely. I'll stick with season 1-7ish.

But I really had hopes. Not high hopes. But hopes. Small hopes for a few nice team scenes. Instead we got ooc gruesome covid shit.

Woohoo. 😐

@sheeplessthings @thornhands if you guys didn't watch it yet - spare yourself and don't watch it.

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds evolution #Heavy sigh.#Everything feels soooooo out of character in that season #Everyone. Everything. The whole FBI. Everyone is like - recently lost their mind during covid.#Why.#And what's wrong with Rossi. Dude. What's wrong with you.#And Garcia.#I just-why. Why. Why did they make such a season at all.#(great for everyone who enjoyed the season! I'm very glad for you! No sarcasm. I wanted to enjoy it too.)

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funarisjournal · 7 months ago

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Chapter 50 is Here!

This month's Tsukutabe update was a pretty sweet one. And also informative, especially for the original audience over in Japan!

Summary of the chapter under the cut:

Basically, Nagumo gets invited by Yako to sit down at a vegan restaurant for a Meat-Free Monday.

Nagumo gets to learn about veganism, mostly, but we also learn that Yako is a pescatarian (and I learned briefly about "flexatarians" oooh~). From the context I could gather, it seems Japan also has a big tendency to scoff at the idea of veganism but there are places that are slowly offering such dietary needs for those that practice it, for their own reasons (as Yako tells Nagumo).

There's definitely some love for food in this chapter. Yako goes on and hypes up the dishes this place offers (which, by the way, is a real place! The official Twitter posted a link to the restaurant and they confirmed that they interviewed the place for research in making this chapter)

They enjoy some food/drinks but then Nagumo brings up something since all this learning is reminding her of the time Yako was explaining about...iirc, labels? It was a few chapters ago, but it's no longer online so I can't remember what it was about exactly. But Nagumo reveals a bit more about her past to Yako, how her family really REALLY pushed her to fit into this mold of a feminine, well-fed woman so she can get married and have kids and she hated it. This is why she looks the way she does now - she was going against all that. But, as a result, she doesn't really know what mold she fits in, her label(s). Yako reassures her she knows that feeling. She went through this before, too! And while it can feel amazing to find a label, there's no pressure to do so for anyone. But Nagumo doesn't have to fit into any mold if she doesn't have to. Just be you! (cue the comic ending with Yako having one of her passionately angry moments about how society forces people into molds, but Nagumo is chill with it lol)

Nagumo loves when her world expands when listening to Yako and Yako loves when people accept/are curious about her personal world (which Nagumo basically told her in this chapter). Anyway, next one comes out just a few days before we finally get volume 4! Excitement!!

Oh, and if you were sad that there was no Kasuga and Nomoto this chapter, don't worry. Sensei got us covered lol

who knew washing dishes could look so adorable??

#funari's texts #tsukuritai onna to tabetai onna #she loves to cook and she loves to eat #tsukutabe #spoilers

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duhragonball · 2 years ago

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Dragon Ball GT 28

✨GT Stands for Grim Tidings✨

This is

This is the one where they get back to Earth. Pan immediately acts like a bigger shithead than she was when they left, demanding full credit for retrieving all seven Dragon Balls, and getting very testy when anyone tries to thank Goku instead.

Let’s just get this out of the way...

✨Is this episode worse than “The Roaming Lake”?✨

Yes, it is. The current score is GT - 0, TRL - 28.

The problem here is that the audience already knows about Baby’s invasion and his “Tuffleization” plan. The GT crew does not know, and this episode is all about them finding out the hard way. And yet, this episode is structured in such a way that it presents the Tuffleized Earth like some sort of shocking twist. Well why would it be? Baby took control of Goten, Gohan, and Vegeta in no time flat. Who would be left to stop him?

So you constantly get scenes like this one, where the corrupted characters wait for the GT crew to leave, and then they do bad guy smirk and talk about Baby-sama.

The only ones left appear to be Majin Buu and Mr. Satan. Satan noticed something was wrong about two months earlier, so he asked Buu to protect him by letting him chill out in one of these gross pods that Super Buu used to use. As for Buu himself, he recalls that Baby put something inside his body, but he didn’t like the taste, so he enveloped it in his flesh to prevent it from hatching. As he discusses this, he spits it out.

As for the rest of the populace, they’re all controlled, and apparently they know that Mr. Satan isn’t one of them, so a bunch of them have gathered outside his home brandishing sticks. At one point, Satan steps out of Buu’s body to clobber them, which I don’t understand, because there’s no one left for him to impress. The mob just gets right back up anyway, indicating that Baby’s eggs have made them physically stronger.

Trunks goes home, and Baby (still in Vegeta’s body) makes himself look and sound like Vegeta to welcome him back. Then a few minutes later, he changes back to his Tuffleized appearance to make the big reveal. Why? Baby also explains the whole egg deal to Trunks, and since Baby had briefly possessed Trunks’ body back in episode 24, that means there’s been one of Baby’s eggs inside Trunks this whole time. Baby just hasn’t bothered to activate it until now, presumably because he didn’t want to risk tipping off Goku and Pan about his plan.

Totally Not Mark did a whole review of the GT series on YouTube, and when he got to this part, he seemed very impressed by this part, like it was some brilliant plot twist. I got to the point where I wondered if I had misremembered something about this, but no. Baby didn’t pretend to get driven out of Trunks’ body in Episode 24. He admits that he wasn’t strong enough to control Trunks back then. But he also explained in Episode 27 that he always lays eggs in anyone he possesses. So this reveal in Episode 28 is just paying off that idea. If anyone was wondering if Trunks was already compromised, here’s your answer. But it doesn’t actually matter, because Baby could easily put an egg in Trunks right now if he needed to. So this is just a little continuity, not a shocking twist.

Goku and Pan return home to find the same predicament, but it takes longer for some reason. Chi-Chi and Pan are making dinner, and they give Goku and Pan a very chilly reception, and finally Goten and Gohan show up and start attacking them. Goku has no idea what’s going on, until Buu and Mr. Satan show up and explain it all to him. And that’s how the episode ends. The whole runtime is devoted to this agonizingly slow reveal of a situation the audience already knows about. And that’s why it’s worse than “The Roaming Lake”.

Now, to be fair, they had to clue in the GT crew somehow. If this wasn’t the way to do it, then what should they have done instead? Good question. Let’s take a look at the episode this one is trying to imitate: Dragon Ball Z 109.

All right, so that episode starts by showing all the characters behaving normally. They’re having a party at Roshi’s house, Chi-Chi is upset about Gohan sneaking out to join them, and then she tries to fight Maron for calling her old.

Then the Black Water Mist rolls in... Krillin, Gohan, and Maron were spared from its effects, but they also don’t know what happened, so when they come ashore to meet the others, they find...

...Everyone has changed. Dramatically. The others glare at them like wild animals, and Chi-Chi starts trying to murder her own son.

This episode already gave us a little taste of this earlier on, when a little girl’s eyes turned red and she hissed at the audience, and when Gohan and Icarus noticed all the forest animals were attacking them for no reason. But it really doesn’t hit home until you see how it changed the characters we know. It’s like theyve been reduced to primitive beasts, until...

... Garlic Junior’s henchmen show up to gloat, and all of the infected characters stop what they’re doing and bow down before the henchmen with great reverence. The bad guys explain how they all serve Garlic Junior now, but that doesn’t do justice to what we’ve just witnessed. You see how profoundly the characters have changed, and you’re like “What the fuck has Garlic Junior done to them?”

Now, the point I’m making here isn’t that Baby’s Tuffleization isn’t as dramatic as the Black Water Mist. I’m saying that the reveal was handled better in DBZ, because we got to experience it along with the heroes.

We’ve been seeing Goten make this shitty little bad guy smirk for the last two episodes. We already know what Baby’s power has done to him. We saw it in Episode 26, and it wasn’t exactly newsworthy then, because everyone Baby possessed on Pital had the same expression. By the time Goku and Pan find out, it’s ancient history, but this episode insists that we ssslllloooowwllllyyy reveal it all over again, just to get their reaction. Well, Pan is horrified and Goku is outraged. What else is there to say?

Looking at those stills from DBZ 109 has ticked me off all over again, because it’s so much more effective. And it’s all because they covered the whole thing in one episode. GT tried to drag this out across four. Let that sink in. The Baby Saga is widely regarded as the best part of GT. The Garlic Junior Saga is considered to be the low point of DBZ. And yet GT’s best is nothing more than a pale copy of Z’s worst, at one-quarter of the speed.

✨"Good” “Ideas”, Poorly Executed✨

Oh, but we’re not done tearing this episode a new one. No, we have to talk about the Black Star Dragon Balls.

I’ve already explained this, but just to recap: The intergalactic hunt for Dragon Balls was the original premise for GT, but by the third episode, everyone at Toei realized it sucked ass, so they started changing course to the DBZ-Lite formula we have now. The problem is that they couldn’t just handwave the problem posed by the Black Star Dragon Balls. In Episode 1, Pilaf wished for Goku to be a child again, and then the Balls scatterd across the universe, and according to King Kai the Earth would explode in one year unless they were brought back.

So that’s why we just now got Goku and the others back to Earth, because they still had to show them getting the last few BS Dragon Balls to close up that plotline. However, it was also strongly implied that this quest was also about restoring Goku back to his normal adult body. Pan even brings it up in this episode. She seems to have believed this whole time that once they returned to Earth, Goku would use the BS Dragon Balls to undo the previous wish.

Except Goku can’t do that, because that would mean scattering the BS Dragon Balls all over again, which would mean another trip into outer space to collect them a second time. It’s not worth the risk, so Goku’s not going to bother. Pan is frustrated by this, but she’s about to have a lot of worse things to worry about than being taller than her grandfather.

The thing is, why does everyone just assume that Goku can only be restored using the Black Star Dragon Balls? They have another set on Earth, and a third set on Namek. I get that the BS Dragon Balls are supposed to be more powerful somehow, so maybe Pan’s right, and this is the only way, but no one has even tried to use the regular Dragon Balls to solve their problems. Some wishes that might have helped:

1) Shenron, please make Goku an adult!

2) Shenron, I wish for you to gather up all of the Black Star Dragon Balls, which have scattered across the universe!

3) Shenron, please tell us where the Black Star Dragon Balls are located.

4) Shenron, is there another way to prevent the Black Star Dragon Balls from destroying the earth?

I’m not saying Regular Shenron would have been able to grant any of these wishes, but the fact that no one even asks is what makes me nuts. Shenron couldn’t defeat the Saiyans or resurrect Goku a second time, but they still asked anyway, just in case he could.

But even if Pan’s right, and wishes on the BS Dragon Balls can only be undone by a second wish on the BS Dragon Balls, how does that even make sense? By that logic, Krillin should have become immortal after Shenron revived him the first time, because only a second wish could cancel the wish to make him alive.

✨Positivity Page✨

About the only credit I can give to this episode is for the part where Giru gets totally deconstructed by Baby. He tries to warn Trunks about impending danger, except “Danger!” is Giru’s catchphrase, so Trunks just assumes Giru is intimidated by Trunks’ dad. Nice little boy-who-cried-wolf moment for Giru. The one time there’s actually danger, no one listens to him.

Then he tries to shoot Baby with missiles, and it doesn’t work at all. Why didn’t he just turn Baby into metal with that doohickey he stole from M2? Because M2 makes no fucking sense, just like Giru, who was born there.

Then Baby recognizes Giru as one of Dr. Mu’s henchmen, and blames Giru for ruining all his plans, but he admits that Giru’s interference did put Baby into contact with the Saiyans, allowing him to fulfill his true agenda. In other words, everything that’s gone wrong here is all Giru’s fault, and he’s a piece of shit. Baby zaps him, enough to frighten Trunks, but not enough to kill Giru, because this show won’t let me have even one tiny concession. But at least Giru gets to live with the guilt.

✨The Blade Braxton Memorial Haiku*✨

Smirking at ballsacks.

That’s what Tuffleization’s

All about, Dende.

#dragon ball #dragon ball gt #really sucks #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #goku #trunks #pan #baby #dende #mr popo #giru #goten #gohan #mr satan #majin buu

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lucky-clover-gazette · 2 years ago

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it's dangerous to go alone

two years after shadow and vio's evil takeover, the gang reunites for dinner. this is a multi-chapter continuation of the oneshot "thank darkness for that," which introduces a corruption-type au that's actually super chill. definitely read the one-shot before following this one!

chapter 4 of 7: the duel (3241 words)

“Hey, Vio?” “Yeah?” “Why is there a perfect recreation of the fire temple in your basement?” Vio refuses to meet his incredulous gaze. “…No reason.”

read the full chapter on ao3 or under the cut:

Green misses the ranch.

Everything is simpler there, with Zelda and Epona and the Hylian children he teaches a few times a week after school. He doesn’t have to think about the Triforce of Courage, or the Goddess, or the false Kings of Hyrule. There’s no need to remember his adventures two long years ago, which had concluded so pathetically it still makes him cringe. At the ranch, he’s been able to leave it all behind him, allowing him to find some kind of relative piece in this bizarre not-so-new reality.

Until this bullshit started happening, anyway.

Zelda had eased Green slowly into the brunches with Vio and Shadow, which had only started a few months ago when she visited Hyrule Castle, alone, to request an audience with the kings. While Green isn’t sure about the specifics of the meeting, he knows Zelda walked out of it with a job as their advisor, and a truce called between the three of them.

Green had questioned it, of course, but Zelda had been unwavering. She’d told him that in the absence of their respective Triforce duties, it was up to them to create their own places in the world. For Green, she’d pointed out, that meant working the ranch—for her, it was this: being a leader not by divine right, but by choice. As the Kings’ advisor, Zelda could spend her time studying history rather the religion, and help make decisions without the full responsibility of being Hyrule’s single ruler. From her first day on the job, Green had seem the happiness it brought her.

So he’s played along. He’s played along for the brunches, for the dinner, and even now, as he stands beside Vio in front of Creepy Dungeon Door #1.

But he doesn’t have to be happy about it.

“You ready?” Green asks Vio, already removing his Four Sword from its scabbard. Compared to Vio’s lame-ass stake, he’s definitely at an advantage. Good—Vio deserves to be taken down several pegs. Green still had nightmares about their duel at the Fire Temple, the confusion and betrayal and embarrassment he’d felt as Vio so easily defeated him. Defeated him, and then spared him, which somehow still feels more insulting than outright murder.

Vio had made him a pawn in his and Shadow’s stupid game, even if he had meant to betray Shadow in the long run. He’d terrorized Red and Blue with the Big Poe, had taken his time with his smug monologue as Shadow perched beside him on that stupid throne. Green still hasn’t forgotten that, and never will.

In the past few months, Zelda has tried to convince Green that Vio and Shadow are better now—kinder, more considerate of others and the world around them. And sure, they’ve done a fine enough job as rulers…but as people? As allies? They’re just as horrible today as they’d been two years ago. This entire situation has only reinforced Green’s long-standing belief that Vio and Shadow are a pair of selfish assholes who only care about each other.

For Shadow, at least, it’s excusable—he’d never been their ally, and had objectively done a good thing when he betrayed his dark masters. Of course he’d cling to Vio, even now, especially given the assassination attempts and outright hostility from Blue in particular.

And, fine, Green will admit that he appreciates Shadow’s role in Zelda’s life. She speaks too highly of him for Green to truly dislike him. Which is ironic given the history between the two, but Zelda knows what she’s doing. She always and has always will, which is why Green hadn’t bothered with an overly-emotional goodbye. He’ll see her again after all this mess, and they’ll go home to their ranch, and Green will tell her that she’s on her own for any future Sunday brunches, although it would be nice if she could get him a frittata to-go please and thank you.

Vio loudly clears his throat, raising an eyebrow at Green. “I said, I’m ready.”

Green shakes his head and reaches for the doorknob. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Green puts his hands on his hips and enters the dark corridor inside. “Great,” he mutters to himself, “another hallway.” He turns his head to watch Vio close the door behind them both.

“What kinds of rooms do you even have down here?” Green asks as they trudge onwards. “I can’t imagine they’re all preceded by annoyingly long hallways.”

Vio considers, and then speaks. “I don’t think we’re coming across these rooms normally. The doors appeared out of nowhere, after all. My best guess is that Tingle created magic portals to take us to whatever rooms he selected.”

“Why did you even keep him around? Doesn’t seem like his presence would be very rewarding, for the potential risk a magic user poses. Isn’t it more your style to take magic away from your allies, anyway?”

Green doesn’t have to see Vio face’s to know that he’s wincing. “It’s… complicated,” Vio says. “Shadow and I love each other very much, but we realized pretty early into our reign that we couldn’t be each other’s only person. We needed other people we could trust, people we could call our friends and allies. Shadow has Zelda now—and by Hylia has that been good for our relationship—but early on, Tingle was pretty much the only friend we had. We’d always known he was a power-hungry little freak, but so were we, so it’s not like we could really judge him for it. In that way, it made all the sense in the world for him to be part of our inner circle.”

“But who else is in the inner circle, besides Zelda and Tingle?”

Vio doesn’t answer. Green smirks. “No friends for you, then?”

He expects Vio to shoot back an insult, a deflection, anything to make Green think that his assumption is incorrect. But instead, he just sighs.

“I don’t particularly trust myself to be anyone’s friend,” Vio admits, and it almost stops Green in his tracks.

“What?”

“Forget it. I don’t know why I’m telling you anything.”

And Green is actually thankful for that. He doesn’t care about Vio—he’s a liar and manipulator, and he deserves every ounce of guilt and isolation he feels.

“Is it just me,” Green asks, tugging at the collar of the dress shirt Zelda made him wear, “or is it getting warmer?”

Vio stops dead in his tracks.“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Green narrows his eyes and spots something in the dark—a thin outline of a closed door, orange light shining through the cracks. “What, is it a boiler room or something?”

Vio walks to the door, his grimace illuminated by whatever is inside. Green joins him and fans himself immediately. It’s very hot now where they stand, the kind of scorching heat a boiler room couldn’t possibly produce.

If it weren’t so insane, Green would almost say it reminds him of the…

Vio tosses his wooden stake over his shoulder and reaches for the door handle. He looks like he wants to say something, maybe a snarky comment about his improvised weapon being useless in this kind of environment, but just ends up shaking his head.

Vio opens the door and Green’s jaw drops.

“Hey, Vio?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is there a perfect recreation of the fire temple in your basement?”

Vio refuses to meet his incredulous gaze. “… No reason.”

Because, holy shit, that really is the only way to describe this place, complete with real lava and the unmistakable scent of brimstone in the air. The massive cavern is split into thirds: the entrance, where Green, Red, and Blue had once witnessed Vio’s betrayal; the center ring, where Vio and Green fought to the death; and the elevated platform where Vio broke his former allies’ trust and hearts. And of course, the throne is there too—all it needs now is one traitorous bastard sitting cross-legged like he owns the place, and his evil arm candy laughing hysterically at others’ misfortune.

Green raises an eyebrow and Vio cringes.

“It was Tingle’s idea,” he offers weakly, “to enchant the cavern for accuracy. We’d only brought the throne along, because it’s sort of a… well, we’re fond of it. It’s a treasured item. All the set dressing was Tingle, though, I swear.”

Green smirks. “And do you and Shadow frequently visit the active volcano in your basement?”

“It’s… it’s like a museum! You have the throne, which is the main artifact, and then… everything else around it! And fine, sure, when it’s really cold it is nice to come down here, and we have good memories attached to the throne, it’s like a good luck charm, and Shadow says the armrest is more comfortable than the one upstairs, and—”

“Hylia, Vio, spare me the details. Please forget I asked.”

Vio balls up his fists at his sides. “Don’t say it like that, nothing about this is weird! We’re just sentimental, okay?”

Green raises an eyebrow. Vio is genuinely worked up about this.

“Okay,” he says with only the tiniest of smiles, “I believe you.”

“Thank you.”

“Never thought you’d be the sentimental type, though.”

“Shut up.”

Green’s tiny smile becomes a full one, if only for a second. He turns back to the challenge before them, twirling his sword in his hand. “Not seeing any danger,” he observes, “except for a potential fall to the death.”

Indeed, the gaps between the platforms seem as perilous as they’d been on the real Death Mountain, nothing but lava below.

“Tingle must have built the room to be a deathtrap,” Vio says, a shadow crossing over his face. Green senses real hurt in his voice, but chooses to ignore it.

“You couldn’t have known,” he hears himself say. “Now come on, let’s find your sword and get the hell out of here.”

Vio nods and steps backwards, preparing himself to leap onto the center platform. Green shudders, memories of their fight bleeding into the logical parts of his brain. He has to focus on the present, getting out of here as soon as possible, getting back to the ranch…

He stumbles as he leaps, but Vio takes his hand to steady him. “Careful,” Vio says, glancing nervously behind his back. Green rips his hand away and follows Vio to the center of the circle.

“This feels too easy,” Green says, and suspects Vio thinks about the same. “Didn’t Tingle say there were monsters?”

His question is answered by loud screeches from the room’s entrance. Two armored lizalfos burst into the cavern, making short work of the jump between platforms to meet Vio and Shadow in the middle.

“Ah,” Vio says. “I found the monsters.”

One of the lizalfos hisses in his face, causing Vio to scramble backwards.

“Vio, stop!” Green shouts, stopping him right before he backs himself all the way into the abyss. Vio looks at Green, raising both arms to remind him that he is very, very unarmed.

It’s like time freezes as Green relives the last duel he fought in this exact place. Vio, so clearly with the high ground, fighting more viciously than anyone would have ever expected. And now here he is, completely vulnerable, signaling to Green that he desperately needs help.

If Blue was here, he’d say that Green should just let him die. Isn’t it what Vio deserves, just like Tingle’s betrayal?

Green shakes his head. It’s not up to him to decide what Vio deserves.

“Hey!” Green shouts, waving for the attention of both monsters. Vio steps away from the edge, visually shocked by Green’s distraction.

Green sizes up the the enemies as he brandishes his sword—they’re both armed with their own weapons, lethally sharp three-pronged metal boomerangs. Green moves before they can, slicing at one of the lizalfos’ chest armor to test its sturdiness. His sword manages to cut but not stab, and Green’s heart sinks.

“They’ve got good armor!” Green shouts to Vio as he dodges a lethal swipe. “I can try to hold them off, but not for long!”

“Try shoving them into the lava!”

“We’re like fucking twigs Vio, we’d need something a lot more dense to disrupt their centers of gravity!”

He can’t be arguing right now, not while he’s actively engaged in close combat. The two-on-one thing is what’s going to get him killed, if he can’t manage to disarm at least one of these things…

Green recalls the only other time he’d fought in this stupid arena, all the ways he’d been caught-off guard by the person whose life he just saved at his own expense. No, Green urges himself, stop thinking about the emotional stuff. Think about strategy.

And then he pictures it in his head, a temporary victory against his opponent, short-lived but deeply satisfying nonetheless. Vio may have shown Green up in fancy swordsmanship and pure swagger, but that hadn’t stopped Green from stepping on his foot with his full body weight and making him cry out like a little bitch.

And, wouldn’t you know—these heavily-armored monsters also happen to be completely barefoot.

The closer lizalfos screeches out in pain and surprise as Green steps down on its claw. It’s so surprised, in fact, that it drops its weapon, right where Vio can seize it for himself.

Green grins and twirls his sword in hand. “Come on, bookworm! Time to fight!”

Vio returns the smile and nods, sinking the sharp boomerang into the nearest lizalfos’ back and then ripping it back out. “One a backstabber,” he says as the monster doubles over, “always a backstabber.”

“Now that’s more like it!” Green enthuses, snarling at his own opponent. Fuck, he forgot how much he loves this stuff. He needs to start a fight club at the ranch or something.

He lunges towards the lizalfos with his sword, hoping to finish what he started with the scratch on its armor. But the monster is ready for him, just narrowly missing Green’s neck with a swipe of his weapon. Green steps back, not willing to take the risk of close contact. For a boomerang, that thing is absolutely brutal as a one-hander… but it is a boomerang, nonetheless.

Green cheats glances behind himself as he steps backwards, stopping at the platform’s edge. If he can get enough distance, he wonders if—

The lizalfos throws the boomerang and Green is ready to dodge. The weapon disappears into the dark edges of the cavern, and Green just laughs.

Vio, meanwhile, holds his own as he grapples with the first monster they disarmed. He’s concentrating, though, and doesn’t see the shining object making its way back around the cave…

“Duck!” Green shouts, and Vio does as he’s told. The boomerang finds its home in Vio’s opponent’s back, worsening the damage that he had already done. Vio’s lizalfos collapses and Green gives Vio a thumbs-up—but their victory is short-lived, as the remaining monster beats Vio to his fallen ally, ripping the weapon from its flesh.

Vio stumbles backwards and Green runs to his aid. He isn’t fast enough, though, just shy of attacking the monster as it finally manages to land a hit.

Vio cries out in pain, grabbing at a gash on his left shoulder. It appears to only be a gash, though, fortunately leaving Vio in fighting condition.

Unfortunately, the injury had caused Vio to drop his weapon, meaning that the remaining lizalfos is now double-wielding.

“You okay?” Green calls out to Vio, who offers him a significantly weaker thumbs-up.

“I’m okay,” he groans. “Need… a second, though.”

“On it. Hey ugly, over here!”

The remaining lizalfos turns to Green, pure rage in its eyes. Green is already backed up to the edge of the platform, and walking forward would mean almost certain death, so he swallows his pride and calls out to for help. “Vio, your second’s up!”

Vio glances up at the throne, just a small leap from where he stands, and Green’s blood goes cold at his decisive expression.

Traitorous. Bastard.

Vio jumps ship as the monster approches Green, taking its time because it knows it has this in the bag. Sure, Green has a sword, but compared to two of those monstrous tri-bladed weapons it’s basically a toothpick. Green might as well jump to his own death to avoid the embarrassment of a second defeat in this stupid arena.

He pictures Vio on the throne, watching, hiding like a coward. He’ll lie to the others, except Shadow—tell them that he tried to save Green, beg for their sympathy and forgiveness and—

“Fuck you, Vio,” Green says under his breath. “There’s some last words for you.”

“GREEN, MOVE!”

And maybe it’s the Hero’s spirit he and Vio share, but something innately compels Green to listen. He hops two feet to the side—and good thing he did, because a massive heavy object lands exactly where he had been standing. It’s dense enough to tilt the entire circular platform, causing the lizalfos to lose its footing and… holy shit.

The lizalfos slides off the edge of the platform, taking a final deadly plunge into the lava below.

And with it, the Fire Temple throne is lost forever.

The platform stabilizes immediately, allowing Green to let go of the rock he had instinctively gripped to anchor his side-hop. Breathing raggedly, he glances up at the now-empty platform, where Vio stares into the abyss with a despondent expression.

“How’s your arm?” Green calls up, not bothering to thank him. As far as he’s concerned, they’re even.

Vio glances at the injury like he’d already forgotten. “I’m fine. Wound’s pretty shallow.”

Green starts to ask if Vio needs a hand getting down, but he’s cut off by the familiar melody they both can hear. Something falls from the ceiling, clattering on the ground beside Vio in the place of his beloved throne.

Vio picks up his Four Sword, and then looks down at Green. “That spinny move would be so cool right now. Can you show me how do it sometime?”

Green nods, his smile exhausted but genuine. “Come on, nerd. Let’s get you back to your stupid evil husband.”

“I’m the stupid evil one,” Vio says, and Green hears it for the apology it is.

Vio jumps back onto the center platform, joining Green in peering over the side.

“I don’t think you’re ever getting that back,” Green says, and Vio shakes his head.

“No. But I’ve still got Shadow—not to mention you, alive.”

“Still. Takes a lot to make you sentimental.”

Vio rubs the back of his neck, where his long hair is slicked down with sweat. Green wonders why he won’t just use the damn scrunchie from Red already.

“It’s fine,” Vio mutters, more to himself than his present company. “We’ll find a new place to fool around.”

Green raises both eyebrows. “What?”

“What?”

Green holds up his hands. “Never mind, I didn’t hear anything, let’s go find the others.”

Vio nods, his face red from more than the extreme heat. “Yep, sounds good.”

And Green has to admit, as he and Vio make their way back through the long dark hall, that maybe Zelda had been right about this evening. Maybe there is a future for the six of them, after all.

They’ll just have to survive long enough to find out.

#really leaning into crack treated seriously with this fic #my writing #fs #four swords manga #vio link #green link

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thecatsaesthetics · 1 year ago

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I saw someone on twitter discussing Rhaegar, and other problematic elements of the series, and they basically said GRRM had no idea what trash Rhaegar was in the 90s when he first came up with the character but he probably is now aware of how awful literally everyone (except the targ stans) think Rhaegar is so when/if he ever gets to the part of the series where Martin explains the relationship he will have to do some serious damage control to 'fix' R/L.

They also said, which I fully agree with, that because he's taken 30 years to finish this series, social mores and cultural norms have shifted so much that a lot of plot points and characterizations he was probably planning are now deeply, deeply problematic whereas back in the 90s, the fantasy-reader audience the books were originally marketed towards would not have cared. Like you said, the post-me too era has brought forth a lot more awareness about grooming, age gaps, power imbalances, etc. I definitely think one of the reasons its difficult to finish the series is because GRRM is now aware of certain plot points he has been planning no longer being palatable and knowing he would get crucified for if he went forward with them. Like San/san was definitely something that was meant to be more romantic or sexual but the ages of the characters, lack of five year gap, and knowing people would rage at him if he made San/san canon in anyway means that romantic ship is over imo lol. Sa/ndor's love for Sa/nsa will be a lot more platonic and self-sacrificial going forward as opposed to romantic undertones.

For R/L though, I do wonder if GRRM telling HOTD writers to include the ice and fire prophecy in the show means that he will lean way more heavily into 'Well, ackshually, Rhaegar was saving the world it wasn't about wanting to fuck a teen he became infatuated with. Also, Elia was chill with it because Dornish(tm).' Basically, I can see Martin leaning way more heavily toward Rhaegar doing what he did to save humanity versus him not being able to keep it in his pants. But we'll see if/when the series is ever completed, which is a big if.

Sorry this is so long I'm putting it underneath:

I do agree that Martin came up with this series in the 90s and did not expect it to become such a cultural landmark. I am not sure he agrees Rhaegar is "awful" as Martin has said and done things within his book series that make me believe he does not see much wrong with a 16 year old running off with a 23 year old. I do think he always intended to add the magically bits in the story with Rhaegar and Lyanna but that they were suppose to be look at as the human incarnations of Ice and Fire and Jon being the offspring of that magic.

And even if Martin did realize after much discussion how problematic the Lyanna and Rhaegar situation is I don't think he would change it. The unfortunate truth is they are fundamental to the story. Not in a way where we need to see them, but they are similar to Paris and Helen. Without their actions the story doesn't exist, and without Rhaegar and Lyanna running off the story does not happen. Our world is reset.

And the book has expanded so much, including a list of characters Martin never intended for us to see, that it makes us really resent both Lyanna and Rhaegar as readers. All the while the narrative itself does not seem to be aware of how horrible the actions of them (especially Rhaegar) is. Adding the Aegon storyline in the book and if he doesn't turn out to be a fake and does end up dead and Jon ends up somehow having a "happy" ending it feels super insulting to Elia and the rest of the characters who suffered due to Rhaegar and Lyanna's actions.

The inclusion of the Ice and Fire prophecy in HOTD had nothing to do with Martin and more to do with the HOTD writers wanting to include a reason for why Viserys was choosing Rhaenyra. In the books Viserys is just a shitty king and has no reason at all for not naming Aegon after his birth. In the show it's hinted he believes the Ice and Fire prophecy would only be fulfilled under Rhaenyra's line.

As for what Martin will do with Elia, I really am not sure but he has said he will make it "complicated". I tend to think he wouldn't make Elia "okay" with it but he might have a situation where Elia believes her son is the Prince that was Promised and wants him to have his "Visenya". But I'm not sold on that just because I don't think Rhaegar would use Lyanna to get a Visenya, he would likely assume the child from Lyanna was the Prince that was Promised simply because of the "ice" connection.

But on the topic of why Martin hasn't finished the series. I have several thoughts:

First, he's written himself into a nightmare. If you read A Feast for Crows and A Dance with Dragons, they are interesting but they expand the plot in a way I've never seen done before. For any type of novel. He has multiple POVs with incredibly complex and interesting storylines, most of which aren't connected to the main plot. I don't know how he's going to handle closing all of those storylines within two books. I love Feast and Dance so much but as a writer I cannot image having to close all of those storylines.

Second, GOT took up so much time. In the first years GOT was airing Martin did a lot of media for the show, cons, and even wrote a whole episode up until season 5. That's a lot of work and it doesn't leave a lot of time to write and complete the story. Also once it became clear Martin wouldn't even complete Winds before the show closed I don't think he had the same motivation to write faster. Why not take his time? Plus D&D had clearly branched out from all the book storylines by season 4.

Third, the reaction to the ending of GOT (which were his intended endings) must have hurt. I cannot image a world where you as the writer of this series see people reacting so poorly to your intended ending (even if D&D butchered it) would not feel at least disappointment. People hated Villain Dany and her death (does matter if I love fallen Dany) and I 100% believe he's going there in the next book. He might be worried or concerned about the reaction. Martin has admitted that seeing fans discuss the series and figuring out things have made him want to change course. And that was back when the series was limited to forum discussions online. He had major news outlets discussing how "awful" Dany's ending was. That likely affected him and his writing.

#got #asoiaf #asoiaf critical

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nartml · 1 year ago

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Same anon as previous. I'm also rather concerned on how the fans seemingly are lacking the ability to recognize the un/healthiness of the canon ships as well. It doesn't help that Boruto is catered to the young teen audience too.

I don't necessarily believe that fiction will influence every aspect of one's reality, Boruto teaching/painting how certain treatments in marriage is okay/acceptable is one example why I'm somewhat concerned.

I so wanted to say that most of the...'stans' are just young kids and didn't know any better, but...I've seen them in late 20's, early 30's, getting angry over people not liking SS, NH, and other popular ships. Old enough to know that the ships are unhealthy and poorly written and know how healthy relationships are supposed to work. Old enough to know that it's pointless to get upset over differing opinions.

Blah. Anyway, thanks for your chill reply. It's appreciated.

Hello again! (sorry, I just saw this, it's been a busy day)

I, once again, agree with you.

Generally, I get really mad at the lack of critical thinking skills of an unfortunately big part of the fandom. Immaturity is a common sight here. I would agree that a lot of the ss and nh fans might be too young to know any better, but it still doesn't really excuse the behaviour of some of them. And it really is a jumpscare when I come across the older stans; they've got no reason to be so vile when defending their ships.

And yeah, I personally think that no matter how much you love something, you should be able to admit that it has flaws and be open to discussing them and hearing other people's opinions on it. It's an important skill (if you could call it that) to cultivate.

Anyhow, I'm just gonna shut up now. I'm basically repeating your points; but hey, they're good ones.

Nah, thank you for the chill ask. It's appreciated.

#anti naruto fandom #anon #love this very chill interaction

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reneleveille1127 · 9 months ago

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Rantings from a [not really drunk and cringy] fucktard #1: FML, I'm thinking bout going off-grid

Bonjour mes amis, I think my existential crisis has reached a breaking point in my life: I'm fucking done with my current life. I don't wanna force myself to do school work for another few months, throw myself into a 4 year program that I'm no longer passionate about and slave myself to a boring bureaucratic job in the government for several goddamn years just to get the dream that I want rn. Everything in my life feels pointless and nothing -- school, work, even friends and family -- can make feel like I have any purpose or reason to live my life. Or at least live the way I initialled planned my life trajectory to be.

I swear the longer time pases, the more off-grid living REALLLLLLLYYYY do be sounding appealing cuz then i have more time to do whatever the hell I want. Writing, drawing, composing music, fishing, chilling with nature outside, you know just enjoying life n' drinking some fizzy Coca Cola that all Canadian citizens could ever wish in this incredibly awesome economy.

Jk jk im just being dramatic and im not having a deeply nasty existential crisis that nearly drove me to commit suicide using a plastic bag around 5:30pm last Thursday on the 29th of February 2024 but couldn't cuz I was too cowardly to choke myself to a painful death filled with sorrow and regrets. Nah nah, it's just dat good ol' friend senioritis making act all silly and goofy and procrastinating on my school work AHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUUHUHU!!!!!11!1!!1!!1! HEHEHE THE TEACHERS CAN PUNISHB ME NOW 4 BEING A LAZY FUCK YIPPEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!

*takes a big sigh* yeah anyway. Having a bad existential crisis making me hate my current life trajectory and making me wanna kms unless I decide to start living off-grid. Hmmm, maybe I should really start looking into that. After all, a passionate amateur soul idealistic by nature struggles to find meaning in a world filled with corruption, greed and inauthenticity.

Alright, this is Rena Levy reporting on my most damning mental crisis and thank you my non-existent audience for reading my rant! Toodleloo little poo!

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the-cat-chat · 9 months ago

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January 6, 2024

Carrie (1976)

Carrie White, a shy, friendless teenage girl who is sheltered by her domineering, religious mother, unleashes her telekinetic powers after being humiliated by her classmates at her senior prom.

JayBell: Stephen King Month 2024 begins with a classic, Carrie. We debated about which version of Carrie we should watch and settled on this one, arguably the more well-known one.

Let's start with the things I like about this movie. I like the overall story. Abused daughter of an extremely religious mother, desperately trying to grow up in conditions that target her sense of worth and self-confidence. Carrie is a figure that you root for throughout, even as she finally breaks in the end.

The mother-daughter scenes I think stole the show. The actress who plays the mother managed to create incredible tension. Like Carrie, the audience almost holds their breath through the scenes, balancing on a wire, waiting for the mom to snap. The balance of power shifts between the two throughout the movie, each vying for control. Seeing Carrie act on her own power, without concern for her mom is both liberating and foreboding.

Now on to my grievances. First, the beginning locker room scene doesn't need to be as pervy as it is. And second, my biggest holdup with this movie is the ex "friend?" of Carrie, Sue. She constructs this big plot to have her boyfriend ask Carrie to the prom so she can have a good time or something. She goes through all this effort to "help" Carrie, even loaning out her boyfriend, and she doesn't even have a conversation with Carrie in the movie. I wanted a stronger reason for her actions. Also, has she never considered umm apologizing? Like saying I'm sorry for being an asshole? Maybe sit with her at lunch, hang out with her and make up for her action (or inaction) instead of this stupid plan.

Also, the female teacher is so hard to get a read on. Like she supports Carrie but she's also kind of abusive? I don't know. And finally, the end scene with Carrie snapping is kind of anticlimactic but I don't know if this is a limit to the special effects or something.

In the end, it's hard to compare movies like Carrie to what I like to call the heavy hitters (The Green Mile and Shawshank Redemption). But I'm going to give it more props simply because of the mother-daughter dynamic.

Rating: 6/10 cats 🐈

Anzie: Im not gonna lie- even tho im jazzed for Stephen King Month 2024- I was kinda like meh?? About Carrie- like existed but its from the 70s (being a notorious hater of the 70s horror we’ve watched bc the peeps are so dumb) and a girl gets revenge on the mean girls- right?? No- within seconds it had me.

First- the gym shower deal is so weird- like was that allllll necessary- cut to Carrie showering- uhhh who showers like that- excuse me for absolutely dissociating while I try remembering if I’ve already washed my face- but I think the answer is no one- then we have our big moment- and Carrie goes ballistic- and I completely pardon her from anything she does in the remaining run time of the movie. Bc those girls were sooo annoying and rude about a period - like maybe if you were 12? And even then you deserve what Carrie would do.

- quick aside:::: uhhhhhh why’s this or teacher slapping girls left and right???

Anyways Carrie’s mom totally needs some conditioner and a couple chill pills- like for realz. And then the plot to apologize by giving your bf to Carrie as a date to prom? Also was it a rule you couldn’t go to prom without a date bc that’s kinda something. Omigaaawd and the whole time these girls are insanely annoying and twisted and I’m so glad the one with the dumb hat had horrendous bangs.

- another aside::::: questions on the creepy Jesus in “Carrie’s Closet,” why do his eyes glow? Why’s he got real hair??????

But yeah- everything is total cringe in a bad way, yet survivable? The prom especially and like I felt like I had take a drug and everything slowed down…. Bc that tooook 4ever- like the one girl Sue who comes to I guess make sure her bf and Carrie win queen and king??? To figure out the bucket is above them and evil Chris and her stoopid dog of a bf (literally a golden retriever with only half a brain) are under the stage with the rope??? And then the pe teacher uuggg so dumb. Ohh and quick question- Tommy Ross keeps kissing Carrie (like was that part of the deallll) idk it’s a lot.

But the end that’s something. And I have to say I’m not a whimp- but the jump scare got me so bad I scared my cat. So that’s gotta be worth 4 points alone.

Rating: 6/10 Cats 🐈

#movie #movie review #film #film review

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himebushou · 11 months ago

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So I watched Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury in 24 hours — some scrambled thoughts below.

Ep 1. The visuals of The Witch from Mercury... wow. And I had such chills when Aerial used the shield. What a gorgeous Gundam! And ahh — the tomato stuff was so cute.

Ep 2. The worldbuilding!! It's amazing that they literally explain nothing to the audience fjdkdm and wow the way they play with gravity is something (though a bit inconsistent).

Ep 3. I love this soundtrack and WOW PROSPERA IS SULETTA'S MOOOM — I felt sorry for Guel in this ep and I liked the strong stance against AI LOL but wow, Guel taking Suletta extending her hand as an opportunity to propose marriage is just. BOY.

And phew, the mobile suits are stunning... I really want to know why the Cathedra Agreement outlawed Gundams. Poor Gundams are always punished for some reason or other. :(

Ep 4. Bloody hell Chu-Chu nearly KILLED those girls FUDIKDK

Ep 5. Some Elan character development and SHEESH IT'S DARK. Also, I love how diverse the character designs are.

Wait. HOW is Elan allowed to use a Gundam without people freaking out fhdjd like hello??? And is is a witch anyone who pilots a Gundam? Who are the enhanced human beings? What is going on!!!

Ep 6. Okay I love the little slumber party at Earth House tbh these girlies are so sweet and supportive — WHOA WHAT. CLONES? FACE STEALING? HUHHHHH????

I thought Elan was gonna die in front of Suletta or something but they just killed him??????

Ep 7. Man, Miorine forming that company and getting investment was really moving... and we finally get confirmation thar Aerial is a Gundam. Tbh, I'm pretty surprised that the lives of pilots are prioritised so much in this world. Hmm.

Ep 8. It was cool to see all the business stuff being taken seriously and to finally get sort of confirmation that a witch is anyone involved with Gundams (honestly the title is a massive chunk of the reason why I picked up the show; it's so cool). But man, I'm wondering what direction they'll take for the last few eps of the season... that's obviously too short a time to have any significant progress in developing medical tech.

Felt bad for Guel in this ep... and what is Shaddiq's deal, anyway?

Ep 9. Yahoo, another battle! All the Grassley House drama was interesting to watch (the name makes me think they should be running a gym in Pokémon). The nature of Suletta's bond with Aerial seems to be changing... interesting.

Ep 10. Flipping heck, the new Elan is a lot?? I'm glad that we got this lil timeskip to progress the plot — the prosthetic legs are definitely v. cool. BUT WHAT IS THIS INTRIGUE with Shaddiq and Nika?

Ep 11. Hot dig there was a lot happening in this but flipping heck I'm honestly so sad that Suletta didn't get to have lunch... and that might actually impact her piloting skills if she has to use Aerial in the next ep because she needs to be in good physical and mental condition?

Someone save Guel what the heck!

Ep 12. Wow so much death in this ep!

- Miorine's daddy dies trying to save her (presumably — I don't think he'll live)

- Guel kills his own daddy in a weird twist of fate

- And Suletta??? I'd seen the mentions of Suletta killing someone in cold blood but that was GRUESOME.

What a way to end a season!

Ep 13. Miorine seems to be keeping her distance following the last ep, which makes sense... Sophie is kind of an annoying character tbh. I'm wondering how all of these different threads will come together, what with Earth folk vs Spacians, the Gundams' true forms and all the stuff with the Big Three.

Ep 14. She turned her daughter into a Gundam?!? What?!?!?

PROLOGUE. I'm a goof djdjd I skipped the prologue because I figured it wouldn't really add to the story but I just watched it and everything makes so much more sense now fhdj what a dummy

Ep 15. Man, Guel is shaping up to be a rly interesting character. I feel for this boyo.

This ep was good; it was interesting to see the Earth stuff (although I am losing track of ppl's motivations).

NOREA IS SCARY.

Ep 16. Guel is back and taking matters into his own hands!

Man, seeing the extent to which Suletta is brainwashed is pretty scary. I'm glad that Miorine confronted prospera directly...

Ep 17. Oh geez, that duel! Definitely emotionally-charged...

I really want everyone to find out the truth about Elan already...

Ep 18.�� The Elan reveal dropped like a lead balloon and I'm mad that they didn't do more with that moment.

BUT WOW. When the Gundam itself is accidentally the villain...?

This anime has so many themes linking to a notion of people only being important when they have utility and it's just so sad...

Ep 19. I'm feeling a bit frantic because there are only 5 eps left and these chars are so bad at communicating with each other djdjjd like to this point there isn't anyone who knows the full story.

Ep 20. Whoa... whoa. The level of destruction in this episode? All the feelings being aired? All the death? This was so —

And man, I didn't realise that I had been missing out on end of episode illustrations! This one of Norea and the fifth Elan is heartbreaking...

Ep 21. Petra is alive! For now, at least.

I cried a few tears when Suletta told everyone the truth about herself — and whoa, the power of Quiet Zero was SOMETHING. But damn, I think they really wasted the Elan revelation AGAIN: Nika's outburst was so vague and there was basically zero reaction from the others, even when he barged in. Considering the horror of Number 4's death sceen, they really just... kind of shrugged it off? Even though there are so many parallels between Elan and Suletta. Sighs.

Ep 22. Finally... a conversation between Suletta and Elan, mostly off-screen, but at least it happened.

One thing that's odd is how everyone seems to have a secret Gundam hidden up their sleeve. Like it was weird enough to find out about Schwarzette but Calibarn literally came from nowehere lol

Ep 23. I feel a bit dopey because a lot of technical stuff happened in this episode and I didn't really follow/understand it, lol... like Miorine recoding the password? Huh?

Man, when I thought Landa had killed Guel I was SAD but then I was pleased to see Felsi for like the first time lololol

Ep 24. A very flashy ending — the visuals were super cool! And things ended well for everyone (except Shaddiq); the epilogue demonstrated that there was still work to do. Guel working for OG Elan Ceres is pretty hilarious

AND MAN, dead Elan appearing was a welcome surprise!

OVERALL THOUGHTS

Hmm.

So yeah, on the whole, it was a very good and enjoyable show, though not one that really gripped me, I suppose (though I did watch the whole thing in a day, so maybe I didn't give myself enough time to absorb what was happening). Some things felt a tad convoluted towards the end.

I thought the scenes where the characters were crying or having difficulties in their Gundams were really, really well done. And there was a lot of sweetness between different characters, especially Earth House. But yeah... I guess it felt like there were some missed opportunities (like we probably could have looked at the events of Episode 12 a bit more — there were some viewer theories that "Gain two" was some sort of trigger phrase for Suletta that sent her into a trance and this idea was glossed over pretty quickly, despite Suletta and Miorine having a heart-to-heart in the greenhouse).

The tech was freaking cool, so I enjoyed that aspect a ton!

It might just be that I'm currently on more of a nostalgia kick, lol.

#mobile suit gundam: the witch from mercury #anime n manga

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queerwritersingerdramaqueen · 12 days ago

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Oh. My. Fucking. GODS BITCHES.

There is so much fucking hurt coming this way.

But! You all know the drill! SPOILERS FOR THE VENGEANCE SAGA PAST THIS POINT. IF YOU HAVE NOT LISTENED TO IT, DON’T SPOIL IT FOR YOURSELF IT’S FUCKING INSANE AND THE SURPRISE FACTOR MAKES IT SO MUCH BETTER.

FIRST OF ALL, HOLY FUCK SHIT WENT SIDEWAYS SO FUCKING QUICK. BETWEEN THE WIND BAG AND THE SIX HUNDRED STRIKE. I’M QUAKING IN MY BOOTS.

This saga is the long awaited conclusion to the Mycroft vs William debacle and it requires a LOT of backstory so bear with me.

So, at some point before the Vengeance saga (can be in between then and the wisdom saga, or even earlier than that) Mycroft and Albert hooked up. This very funny idea is brought to you by Steven Rodriguez’s “Like You Mean It” and “The Devil Wears Lace” and it’s basically brought up by a very drunk Karaoke session and one thing leads to another. Anyway, the short relationship doesn’t end well since Mycroft has a bit of a “Fuck, I slept with the enemy” moment (he’s still very much on the defense when it comes to Sherlock) AND IT GETS A LITTLE MESSY. Mycroft doesn’t completely ghost Albert but he does sort of step back when Albert starts showing genuine affection for him (oh boy, I’ve never written Alcroft angst centred around Mycroft before, Albert is usually the one who needs to get his shit together). Regardless, William is now doubly pissed at Mycroft, Albert’s sad and Sherlock is just shaking his head in disappointment because if he’s the only one who pulled his head out of his ass, then they're all doomed. The OTHER really big thing to remember during this saga is that Mycroft didn’t know ANYTHING about Sherlock and William leading up to the performance. He and Sherlock (especially since the Ruthlessness fiasco) haven’t talked heaps and Mycroft hasn’t been on set since then either. Sherlock does appreciate his brother looking out for him; he does NOT appreciate Mycroft threatening him through song.

Most of the rest of the cast are kind of just chilling watching this all go down on the side with a bucket of popcorn. They know better than to get involved with the Lord of Crime and the Government when they’re fighting.

So this saga summed up: the in-laws are FIGHTING

But without further ado, let's get into it

The Vengeance Saga:

Not Sorry for Loving you - I’m going to preface this one that I am entirely open to any kind of criticisms that may be had about my approach to this song. I’ve never been in that kind of situation and I’m interpreting the song as sung by someone who hasn’t actively kept their “partner” prisoner for seven years. When I listen to “Not Sorry for Loving You” and put it in the perspective of Albert, it sounds much less like an abusers half-assed apology (when it comes from Calypso, then I can hear the bullshit). So with that in mind, feel free to make suggestions and criticisms, I’m completely open to that. Hell, I even ewncourage them because I don't want to be an asshole here.

So, Albert’s rendition of this song obviously doesn’t come from a place of (romantic) love for William but he’s projecting onto him big time. To further emphasise this point, Albert’s not looking at him throughout the song. He could be doing that fourth-wall break again but this time with trying to make the audience sympathetic (god, outside of the AU, that would be such an interesting way of doing Calypso, with her always trying to present herself as a loving, poor girl trapped on an island, making even those who know how wrong she is sympathetic). That first part where he says “That you’re not mine to save” ties in really fucking well to that chapter where Albert blames himself for being the reason William fell. I also can’t believe I managed to kind of catch that in the wisdom saga during Love in Paradise. The thing I’m trying to go for here is letting Albert get some of his frustration out, because he hasn’t had the best luck with family or dating and even friends, so when he meets Mycroft and he finds all those things in him, it’s amazing. This probably would not come across in the actual performance (he does still have a role to play) but counteractive to Calypso deflecting her actions during the Pre-chorus, Albert is owning up to his faults, even when they’re not actually that bad. Mycroft’s guilt over the whole Sherlock/William thing is to blame, not Albert; but he blames himself anyway. A very large portion of this would rely on the writer’s (AKA. my own) ability to get that message across and I totally understand if I haven’t made it make sense. During the bridge part, “I’m angry and tired and restless and sad” the frustration hits a peak and Albert’s venting a little bit on wanting Mycroft to let go of his little (kinda petty) feud with William (and maybe still being kind of pissed at William for doing what he did (Albert and Sherlock are besties and you can fight me on that, you won’t win)). William’s “I love you/but not in the way you want me too” is less about being the object of Albert’s anger/affection and more like “This song isn’t for me, but I do love you brother and you’ll get through this.” And the damn kind of just breaks from there as Albert watches William “sail” away.

Dangerous - THE BOY IS BACK!!!!! HERMESSSSSSS! JAMESSSSSSSS! You don’t understand how actually HYPED I am that James is back in this AU! Dangerous is such a fucking bop :D But before I get into it, production is a thing and it sucks to work out. Maybe Von Herder really should be just a guy out back cause I need his help figuring out how to do the raft?! For now, I’d assume it’s just on wheels and maybe actors in those dark jumpsuits are pushing it around (Like with the Cyclops puppet and what will eventually happen with Charybdis). IF they’re already on stage that's probably good too, they can pretend to be the monsters along the way and it’ll be an easy transition. AND A COUPLE OF THEM CAN BE WINIONS So plot wise, James is trying to reel William in because this man is gonna lose his shit on Mycroft in a second. The whiplash of how disco-esque Dangerous is helps in being a sort of calming factor (until the “NO” that is) for James to help William take a breath. The wind bag, once more, serves its purpose of being all the bottled up shit William (and even Mycroft to some extent, since it’s HIS storm after all) is holding onto. Most of this song is kind of just a dance break but once we get to the windbag, we get some more plot. This is William’s chance to prove he won’t let anything get in the way of him and Sherlock, his last chance to prove to Mycroft that he won’t hurt his baby brother again (and trust me, William absolutely recognises the GALL of it coming from Mycroft). It’s also his chance to show how he’s “healed,” though that’s more implied through the metaphor of the wind bag. If he has to be ruthless and give Mycroft the what for, he’s gonna do it. I’m also going to make another disclaimer that YES, I know Mycroft now sounds like an asshole. If this were a properly written fic where I could dive into nuance, I could explain the intricacies of both William and Mycroft in a probably more understanding way. As stands however *bangs pots over my head* THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, ANY ACTIONS WITHIN ARE NOT TO BE TAKEN WITH THE SERIOUSNESS OF REAL LIFE.

(also, the “I’m not the one who fought for you” knowing it was Sherlock/Athena who fought with William through most of the hardship is fucking amazing)

Charybdis - This number requires us to look less at what’s on the stage and what’s happening backstage. Musical wise, we’ve got big puppet Charybdis. I think that style of the dragon dance would be a good way of doing it, or with the long poles to make it go really high. This piece would need some serious production work because I don’t know quite enough about that side of theatre. I’m just good at the literary stuff (in case it wasn’t obvious). We could even simulate waves with fabric being fwiped around by actors. But back on the plot stuff, William is determined. Mycroft sees this and is like, “oh we are both fucked here.” The actual emotional things happening are weird. Mycroft knows that he’s not much better than William (Though he was absolutely more direct with Albert, his reasoning was a little bullshit even to Sherlock, the guy he was doing it for). He’s feeling guilty and sad for giving up what he had and angry at William because he understands on an even more personal level how the whole situation hurts someone else. But Mycroft is seeing this determination and is deeply conflicted on how he should feel (Albert’s crying in the corner after his number and Sherlock’s stealing popcorn waiting for his boyfriend and brother to duke it out because there is no way in hell he’s defending either of them, they can work out their own shit and grovel at his feet afterwards). When William “reaches Ithaca” and is dragged back (that “NO” fucking hurt man) it’s Mycroft being like, “alright fucker, prove it” (which was the original story idea until I heard all of the vengeance saga and proceeded to lose my marbles with a subplot)

(I feel like this is a good juncture to clarify and remind everyone what actually happened. William and Sherlock had a fight because William wasn’t taking care of himself. They go through a sort of “soft-lock” breakup where they consider it all done but they never actually talk about it, so when Sherlock tries to make amends and either fix or end the relationship, William ghosts him and it’s not until the Ocean Saga that he realises how badly that hurt Sherlock. After those events (when Mycroft isn’t around to witness), William chooses to get help and he and Sherlock are slowly trying to at least repair their friendship. This is a mutual choice that they both want. Mycroft and Albert go through something different. It eventually dawns on Mycroft that Albert is in fact William’s brother and he feels like he might be betraying Sherlock by having a connection with the Moriarty’s at all. Because he’s only been in the musical for one instant, he doesn’t know about them and the developments they've made. He and Albert are not quite in an established relationship and more like sleeping together and sticking around to cuddle afterward. *bangs the pot again* FICTION PEOPLE, FEEL THE FLUFF, DROP THE STUFF. DON’T DO THIS IN REAL LIFE, LIVE VICARIOUSLY THROUGH THEM WORKING OUT THEIR ISSUES.)

Get in the Water - WHEN I TELL YOU I HAD BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT I’ve been actually fucking obsessed with how this would go and it’s the “I can’t…” that inspired a lot of what’s about to happen. So, the original plot, as mentioned above, was going to be just William getting his resolve tested by Mycroft, a test to see if he’d actually built up the courage and strength to stick with Sherlock. Now it’s a looooot more with the sub plot. “Get in the water” is now less about William not bending on getting what he wants, and more about Mycroft just wanting William to go away so 1) Sherlock can’t be hurt again (he’s clueless, remember?) and 2) so he can stop feeling guilt about pushing Albert away. He is also warring with himself somewhat and somewhere inside him he really wants William to prove him wrong. They are also playing parts so please keep that in mind with some of what they’re saying; it’s the intent and emotion behind how they're singing it that implies what they're really trying to say to each other. I also think that, while having the trident is really cool, I like the way this one animatic portrays a stage adaptation with him using long pieces of fabric coloured like the sea to throw him around a bit, tied with the other actors throwing “water” at him. The aerials are also still an option I’d like to use for the gods and the dead, and they’ll play in really well later. William does extend an olive branch at one point, he’s not beyond the point of forgiveness yet. Maybe they can forgive each other and themselves for hurting those closest to them. That “I can’t…” though takes. Me. out. Mycroft forgiving William means forgiving himself and trying to make things right between him and Albert. He wants too but he’s fucking STUBBORN. So we get the “Ruthlessness is Mercy Upon Ourselves” bit thrown back at him again, because he truly believes that he has to be a bit self-destructive and let Albert move on without him, that he has to protect Sherlock from William. Pair that with the fact that (at least the way I write them) they never do truly “like” each other and he’s just really fucking angry at himself and William. (weird segue but I genuinely do think that, in canon post-timeskip, Mycroft wouldn’t like William for being the reason Sherlock jumped off the bridge and disappeared for three years, for making him dance in his hand, or completely overtaking his life with these cases to the point that Sherlock killed someone just to cut the strings. Kind of like the Louis/Sherlock situation, but with just an ounce more respect towards the other party, because Mycroft does understand it was still Sherlock’s choice. So in my writing at least, they usually don’t like each other all that much but they stay out of it.) Now, the last breath. I came to the really sad realisation the other day that Anticlea, Eurylochus and Polities actually make up the three original group members we meet at the start of the manga, so I’m just going to go *sobs really fucking loudly around the corner.* You don’t understand how badly this fucks me up, that this whole time, I’ve unintentionally had Fred, Moran and Louis, the first three of the crime gang to enact the plan, also be the voices he remembers whenever he’s in a tough spot. So please picture for me, William on his knees in blue light, arms raised like he’s drowning, then Fred pops up, then Moran (They make up this saga! YAY! :D), then Louis and they’re sort of cradling him until the “Ohh wahh ohoh, Odysseus” where the crew of Odysseus’ ship (portraying the majority that were drowned) lift him up off the stage and into the air (he looks like he has drowned by this point, limp and everything), showing how they will support him through this too. Then the good shit happens after the lights go out.

Six Hundred Strike - Obviously, Mycroft didn’t drown six hundred men, nor would he talk shit about William to his friends. That part is all for show so please keep that in mind.

BUT IMAGINE PLEASE, RED SPOTLIGHT ON WHERE THEY’RE ALL LIFTING WILLIAM UP, THE WINDBAG GLOWING BLUE AS IT TRAVELS ACROSS THE CROWD TO HIM AND WHEN HE GETS A HOLD OF IT AND RELEASES IT, HE GRABS AN AERIAL ROPE AND GETS TO FLY BECAUSE HE IS USING THE POWER OF THE GODS, ER GO, HE IS FLYING LIKE THE GODS DO. PLEASE TELL ME YOU SEE THE SYMBOLISM???

All the men crowd around the stage while Mycroft and William are overhead doing some cool aerial tricks and circling each other, light now turned gold. Once shatter the ocean is dispelled, I’m tossing up if they come back down onto the stage so the men can attack or if they remain in the air and William attacks while the men goad him on. If they come back down and the men rush him, they can get backstage fairly easily, but we’d lose that sense of Odysseus using god powers. Thoughts welcome on that. After the attack, they “fal”l back onto the stage, the middle portion is raised (if you’ve ever seen & Juliet, the stage during “de Bois Bands back” is what I’m going for.) and there are white lights pointing upwards, so you can see William and Mycroft’s silhouettes. “You released my storm” is kind of Mycroft (in all his emotionally repressed idiocy) owning up that they both just lost their shit and proved they’re not “great” people. And William, in all his “I’ve been to therapy for the last several months what the fuck do you mean I’m a bad person for feeling emotions?” decides that maybe he should just let Mycroft have it so he finally understands a thing or two. The silhouettes are important because William will be stabby for like a whole minute (speaking of that, does anyone else feel like this is the most violent and real it’s gotten since just a man? Like, yes there has been violence but it’s been a sort of mythical violence, the cyclops, the storms and the god games have been sort of disconnected from real, human malice. Little Wolf had like a taste of it but just the act of Odysseus stabbing the shit out of Poseidon, while he’s down nonetheless, just feels so much more horrifying than anything that’s already happened. It’s terrifyingly human). Also, there would be no way of making it look like he’s bleeding on stage unless he had like, fake blood packs under his clothes and I don’t know how he’d keep them there. The act of putting it in shadow, much like Gwendy’s animatic from the livestream, makes it more sinister. You can’t see it but you can definitely hear it.

“How does it feel to be helpless? How does it feel to know pain?” Because William, during everything that had happened, had been in pain. He’d been hurting for a long time, long before the musical even started production, long before he even met Sherlock or lost his eye. “I watched my men die in Horror - Calling their captain in vain.” He’ll make Mycroft understand that he’s seen some horrible things. “Look what you turned me into, look what we’ve become.” Mycroft made this angry side in him come out, and now they’re fighting over something that could be so fixable, because if William/Odysseus had to get over his pride to move on, then Mycroft/Posieden is gonna learn the same fucking lesson. “All of the pain that I’ve been through, haven’t I suffered enough?!” When will Mycroft realise that William learnt this lesson, it’s now him who needs to get off his high horse and see what ruthlessness can do to a person? “You didn’t stop when I begged you, told me to close my heart. You said the world was dark,” William knows that what he did was wrong and he cannot make up for it, that it’ll probably scar for a while. He does not need to keep being told that, doesn’t need to be continuously told that he can’t make amends, especially when Sherlock wants him to. “Didn’t you say that ruthlessness is mercy upon our-” See what his ruthlessness bred? See what William choosing to be ruthless and telling Mycroft everything did? The stabbing stops. William goes to walk away backstage when Mycroft gives that final question. William answers truthfully, then walks away, leaving Mycroft to ruminate on his own attitude towards everything that’s happened.

AND THAT’S IT, THAT'S THE VENGEANCE SAGA!!! These two have gotten ALL their pent up aggression out, they’ve gotten to have a little fight and whatnot, and now, they can have a proper adult conversation after the show about what’s happened and Mycroft can make up with Albert already because fucking hell, Albert’s been waiting for weeks for Mycroft to realise (or be told by Sherlock literal minutes before the show) that he’s making a lot of assumptions of the situation.

At this juncture, I think it’s a good time to bring up Moran and William’s reconciliation because it can play really nicely into the olive branch moment. It’s probably a pretty simple moment, Moran apologises for getting angry and William apologises for not being as readily available. I think that moment where he’s trying to connect with Mycroft is a moment a bit like that, where they can acknowledge each other’s mistakes and make an attempt for peace (Mycroft just wasn’t ready to accept that forgiveness).

Again, some of the things that happen in this particular sketch of the narrative may make it seem like Mycroft and William are just assholes to each other but there is supposed to be nuance to their relationship and the relationships they have to each other’s brother. Mycroft needs to learn that he can’t be getting all up in Sherlock’s business and, though his protectiveness is appreciated and was at one point nice, fighting battles for him that he wasn’t even having. William, though being “rightfully” judged in this scenario, is still the bigger person until Mycroft pushes him enough. These two will be having a long and thoughtful talk (with Sherlock and Albert sitting in to make sure they hit all the targets, Louis on the side to make sure neither of them start fighting again) in which they will explain themselves and get over it all like adults. They will probably never truly like each other but they can be civil.

I’d also like to point out, on some character development traits, Mycroft never talks shit about William, never insults his character to anyone (except maybe to Sherlock when they first break up and he’s humouring his tirades). Where he has to interact with the rest of the cast, William’s friends included, he is polite and tolerates any William talk until he can steer the topic in a different direction. It might be the fact that he had to hold in that anger that makes this outburst so bad. William, as well, doesn’t think Mycroft is a bad person for being a protective older brother (he’d be the Hypocrite then), nor is he upset that Albert and Mycroft were ever having a fling. It is the sheer similarities in their situations and the uncanny repeating of history that really drives William up the wall because he knows how you can fix or prevent this.

The TL;DR: Louis is so fucking done with all their shit.

I feel as though this AU may be slightly spiralling out of my control, so any thoughts on if I should reel it in or if the sub-plot is in a bit of a weird spot or even if I just have to add more on the sub-plot in the other sagas, all those thoughts would be greatly appreciated. I do feel like I might be giving these two a bit to much wiggle room for their mistakes but that could just be me. I am trying to be careful. Adding all I did definitely pleases the brainworms but the writer in me is questioning if I threw a bit too much in here.

This is a massive story at this point and I’m going to have to construct some sort of timeline or synopsis to get all my bases hit on where I am.

As always, thank you to @aka-no-ken for listening to my ramblings and having something super helpful to say or just fangirling with me about someone’s voice. You’re a great friend!

TUMBLR, I WILL MAKE YOU POST THIS

PREVIEW:

AKA-NO-KEN YOU ACTUAL PHSCHIC HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GUESS ALL MY GOD CASTINGS CORRECTLY???

AGAIN, WISDOM SAGA SPOILERS SO READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. ALSO MAYBE A TRIGGER WARNING FOR LOVE IN PARADISE CAUSE THAT WAS MORE THAN I WAS FUCKING EXPECTING.

THIS IS SHERLOCK AND BILL'S FUCKING SAGA NOW BITCHES BROS AND NON-BINARY HOES. AND AGAIN, I'M FANGIRLING AS I GO.

So, with where we left off, William's having a minor relapse in his mental state but it won't become too much of a plot point/serious thing. He and Moran are on funky terms but if there is no "reconciliation" in later sagas then We'll figure that out when we get there. Anyway, this saga ain't about him.

(ALSO, I MISSED A FUCKING OPPOURTUNITY

VON HERDER AS TIRESIAS, IM A FOOL)

Anyway, lets get started.

The Wisdom Saga:

Legendary - BILL IS HERE FUCKERS. SHERLIAM'S ADPOTED SON IS GONNA BE LEGENDARY. I really like how this parallels with Canon when Bill only knew William as a genius professor and Sherlock's actually the one who introduces them in a way. It'll set up nicely for when we get to "I can't help but wonder" and Telemachus/Bill has to toss up with the fact that his Dad just removed the twenty year problem but he did also kill a bunch of people (you know, like in canon.). So this starts out with the lights slowly coming in and Bill's "room" has a chair and a few other easily moveable props. This is a very dancey number I'm finding so these props are probably gonna get taken off stage so there can be actors milling around for Telemachus to interact with, I think he'd be mostly weaving between them trying to avoid them while they keep swiping at him. The majority of suitors can be off the stage but Antinous and a few others are up there ready for the "Whatcha gonna do about it, champ?" The lights would change on Boy to a red colour. It would be so cute seeing Billy fight for Sherlock's Honour. I think something really cool that could happen is when Telemachus sings "somebody help me" the lights flash blue for a second like Athena has heard his plea. and at the very end of the song, he punches Milverton square on the nose (in the fake way of course).

Little Wolf - My big idea for this that would absolutely not transfer over to a regular production of Epic the musical would be that Antinous/Milverton is not the one fighting Telemachus/Bill. I cannot really see Milverton fighting for himself and would definitely have lackey's doing it for him; but outside of this AU Antinous absolutely fights for himself. But yeah, Milverton mocks the shit out of Bill while he's fighting somebody. The lights stay red while the suitors and Milverton are doing their thing. When Athena appears the lights turn blue like fighting of the panic of being in a fight. I think this is one of those moments where its so fun having Sherlock as Athena and Penelope cause it's like "Don't worry baby, Mama's here to help." But, onto the super cool crossover intertexuality talk I can't seem to do right now, Sherlock as Athena fits very nicely cause he, alongside William, helps Bill get into the university; so Sherlock being the one helping in this fight reminds me of that. And Athena's "I've no respect for bullies" reminds me of his disdain for Milverton and his methods of blackmail. ALSO, HER PIANO IN THAT PART IS SO FUCKING GOOD I FUCKING ASCENDED. PAIRING IT WITHT HE DRUMS THAT WAY, WHO DOES JORGE THINK HE IS. In a way, this is like showing how Penelope would like to react to her suitors beating up her son (it just popped into my head but kind of like a batman meme, Penelope dressing up as the goddess of wisdom to fuck up her son's bullies). Athena's whole solo there sounds a lot like Sherlock when he was talking to Irene. And when the fight ends and Antinous says Penelope needs to pick a suitor, Athena/Sherlock is very disturbed before he helps Bill up.

We'll be Fine - The thing I love the absolute most about this musical is exploring Sherlock's side of this whole fiasco they were in and giving him a chance to vent some of this frustrations. Because it wasn't easy on him either and he might blame himself a little bit for not being able to help more. Bill knows a little bit about it from gossip and rumour and being a part of the Epic cast for a little while, not too much but between the two of them, Bill understands that Sherlock is letting out a bit of his frustration with the previous problem and the repeat that seems to be occurring, because he's super smart like that (I say seems because in real life, it won't last that long and William is probably gonna be ok and reconciled with Moran by the time we get there. It'll hopefully make sense once we get to the next saga but I just can't keep knocking this dude over he needs to start healing and giving him a less self-jeopardising problem to fight). Even though he and William have worked through a fair bit of what happened and their still going really strong, Sherlock is still worried. Sherlock's super soft on Bill because he's so similar to William. Bill, while sticking to the script, is just subtly reassuring him that it's ok, they'll get through this rough patch and they'll be fine. Sherlock doesn't need to be the first responder. A little bit of it probably comes out as Bill saying "William wouldn't want you to beat yourself up over this," especially when he mentions Athena's friend (William and Bill are also probably really close friends at this point, don't tell me William wouldn't take him under his wing immediately after they're introduced). When Athena calls him a good kid, Sherlock ruffles his hair and then Bill makes a move like someone's calling him and runs off, leaving him for the next part.

ALRIGHT I'M HAVING FUCKING ISSUES WITH TUMBLR RIGHT NOW SO STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO BECAUSE ANYTHING LONGER THAN THIS WONT FUCKING POST OR SAVE AS A DRAFT.

@aka-no-ken I'M COMING SWEETIE AND I'M BRINGING MY WORK WITH ME JUST BEAR WITH ME

#yuumori #moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #sherliam #william james moriarty #sherlock holmes #epic the musical #Epic X Yuumori AU #epic the vengeance saga #mtp mycroft holmes #albert james moriarty #alcroft

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