#appropriate song usage

[5mcsinatrenchcoat]

Natalie Jane's Intrusive Thoughts is low-key pre-game Vice coded ngl

[wandasaura]

SONG IN THE CAR

summary — wanda just wants to check that you’re not lying, but you can only keep yourself together for so long before you beg natasha to fuck you in the car

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, mommy kink, daddy kink, subspace, public play, inspection kink, butt plugs, packing, strap-on usage, mentions of edging, mentions of spanking, doggy style, car sex, semi-public sex, degradation, praise, dumbification, mentions of free use, finger sucking, oral fixation, men/minors dni

authors note — i’m not even going to apologize for what this turned into because once i started i just kept adding the most unhinged things. as always, this doesn’t need to be read with the yail series but it might make more sense if it is. the ending is a wee bit rushed but i wanted to get this out for you, so i hope you enjoy!

you are in love

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

A strangled whine falls off the tip of your tongue when Wanda trails her fingers across the small of your back. The interior of the store is cold, the electric hum of an air conditioning unit almost as loud as the music that plays through speakers hidden within different vents around the clothing store. You can’t even fathom what business Wanda and Natasha have being in a shop that’s blasting brain melting pop tracks, but they dragged you inside at the first sight of the large LED letters out front. 

You’ve lost sight of Natasha, the Russian made a dramatic show of escaping toward the back wall merely seconds after Wanda dragged you over to look at a rack of denim shorts. The store was geared more toward a generation around your age, the elements of both boho aesthetic and minimalism felt almost too trendy to be authentic, but if you weren’t so… overwhelmed, to put it sweetly, you would’ve vocalized just how much you liked the style of clothes that sat folded precisely on the shelves surrounding you. 

Wanda’s hand lingered on the small of your back for longer than an appropriate second. Despite the cold store that threatened to erase all memories of the sweltering heat outside, the Sokovian’s hands were the perfect cross between just barely warm and unacceptably frigid. The longer they sat on the exposed skin of your back – the baby tee Natasha had picked out for you to wear hugging your ribs tightly and subsequently allowing both her and Wanda access to your sensitive spine – the harder it became to not envision them falling lower and lower until they found a place between your thighs for the second time that day. 

You weren’t looking at Wanda, intentionally avoiding her strong stare and focusing intensely on the white shelves that adorned the walls. You didn’t need to glance at her to feel the devilish smirk that rested across the very lips that had wrapped around your clit and left you needy only a handful of hours earlier to know that it was there and obnoxious. Natasha had kissed her in the car and claimed smugly that Wanda’s tongue still tasted of you, but neither had offered any assistance in relieving the sticky situation between your thighs. 

 When Wanda’s question went unanswered a second time, the question being if you liked anything in particular around the store, a perfectly sculpted brow rose in your direction and the attention you’d been putting on the racks of clothing became a fascination of the past. A slender finger cradled your jaw, cold against your flushed skin but not icy enough to flinch away from instinctively. The subtle gesture had forced your eyes away from the t-shirts and baby-tees you’d been meticulously staring at, and rather onto a set of twinkling green eyes. Wanda’s lips were still curved upward into a smirk, but they twinged with something dangerous as she set her gaze on your dilated pupils and permanently pink cheeks. 

“Mommy asked you a question, milaya. What’s got you so distracted?” Wanda pouts, her lips teasing and thin as they purse in an attempt to ward off a sickening grin of mischief that she wore mere seconds beforehand. She knows exactly what’s distracting you, she’d been the one to suggest this little game when Natasha decided she wanted to go shopping, but still she feigns innocence as you come undone in a disgusting public mall. 

Despite having an answer on the tip of your tongue, you can’t find the courage to share it with Wanda. There shouldn’t be any reason for you to vocalize your feelings when she’s already aware, despite her trying to break you down time and time again. Instead, you settle for something simple, and certain enough to wind her up a good deal. “Nothing.” The word doesn’t roll off your tongue as easily as you would’ve liked. It’s choppy and cuts like a dagger, but it sits lightly in the air between both of your warm bodies as Wanda takes the time to process what you’ve just said. Or rather, how you’ve just blatantly lied to her. 

“Oh, nothing’s distracting you, baby?” Wanda coos, her head tilting ever so slightly to the side as her eyes threaten to unravel the web of lies you're spinning. You don’t even have a chance to answer before she’s gripping your jaw, the pad of her thumb pressing into the hollow of your cheek while her pointer fingers sentence the other side of your face to the same fate. Her grip is tight, controlling, but not harsh enough to actually hurt. She’s mastered the art of grabbing you in a way that stuns you into submissive silence, and though you’re in public where anyone can see, she doesn’t seem to mind holding all the cards in her one-handed grip.  “So if Mommy put her hand in those pretty panties you’ve got on, she wouldn’t find a sticky mess?” 

There are two choices here, you can either deny the accusation and save a sliver of your dignity that’s waning fast as the day progresses, or you can agree with her accusation and hope that your honesty satisfies her need to be right in this moment; either choice will lead to her hand in your panties, you’re not dumb enough to believe that she’ll drop the act when you’re already this far in, but there’s still defiance burning in your belly that deceives you enough to believe you’ll walk away with the upperhand. Hastily, not thinking much of the consequences, your head shakes from side to side in the negative. You’ve decided to save yourself the embarrassment of admitting that your panties are absolutely drenched by no fault of your own, it’s entirely her fault and she knows that. The movement is little, restrained to small jerks due to the hand on your jaw, but Wanda feels it, and she quirks an eyebrow. “I need words.” She tightens her grip, forces your lips to pucker and your cheeks to ache from how her fingers sit flush against your teeth. 

“N-No.” It takes all of your strength to answer her, and even still all of your mustered up courage leaves a fierce blush sinking into the apples of your cheeks and across the tips of your ears, but a fire lights in Wanda’s eyes at your prolonged battle to remain coherent. You’ve been fighting her on decisions all day, trying to keep your head above the surface and your thoughts clear, but there’s only so much clarity in a moment like this. Nobody can blame you for falling beneath the thumb of the hottest lawyer in the world when you’re quite literally putty in her hands. 

“Oh, well then I guess you won’t mind if I check for myself, will you, detka?” You’d discussed this new kink a week ago. You’d agreed to what she called inspections with no hesitancy, though a healthy bit of embarrassment at the prospect of her being able to feel your sopping cunt whenever she pleased, but you’d agreed and even anticipated the moment she decided to put your agreement to good use. You hadn’t expected her to be so bold as to cash in on your agreement in one of the most densely populated shopping malls in the state of New Jersey, but there was no getting around it now. Still, your eyes fluttered away from hers, anxiously scrounging the small boutique style store for other customers or cameras.

Your eyes only found two figures, and one was distinctly Natasha who had styled her red hair in dutch braids before you left the house. For a second, you wondered if this had been the plan all along; to get you into a store where nobody else dared to shop because of the steep prices and violate you into submission, though you wouldn’t technically call Wanda’s premistion a violation, but… still. The only employee that stood on the floor was a smaller woman with silky chestnut hair, and she occupied a space next to Natasha against the far back wall as the two engaged in a conversation that looked to be revolving around a red bikini top your girlfriend held up to her chest. It complemented her hair nicely, would do absolute wonders for her boobs, but she had no real interest in the article if the pinch between her brows was evidence enough. 

Despite the reassurances you found, you met Wanda’s gaze again and choked out a strangled whisper, “Somebody’s going to see.” The blush on your cheeks was sheerly a factor of your mortification, but Wanda seemed to crave to deepen the sharp color on your face as the hand not gripping your face began its ascent toward your core. The flowy white skirt Natasha had picked out for you allowed her access without a fuss, and when her fingers tickled the sensitive interior of your thighs, you couldn’t help but instinctively part your legs for Wanda’s quest. 

“Shh,” The Sokovian shushed you sweetly, her hand loosening its grip on your jaw but never falling away fully. Her eyes searched yours, practically looking through you as she assured that you were okay to continue, anticipating the moment the safeword fell off your lips and all of her movements stopped. You’d never stop adoring her caution in moments like these. “Let Mommy do the thinking, sweetheart. Little girls don’t need to be worrying about anything other than their Mommy.” Her words fell onto you thickly, and a pout pulled at your lips as they sunk in. That submissive headspace all three of you adored was creeping up on you slowly, and her infantilizing words merely accelerated the process as you blinked at her slowly. 

The hand on your thigh brushed across your mound tauntingly slow, and for a second, you’d forgotten that you weren’t going to receive anything from her touch when it finally came. There would be no pleasure to spiral through your core when her fingers found a home beneath the drenched material of your panties. All that would come from her touch was embarrassment and more frustration. You gasped when Wanda’s ring trailed down the warm skin of your cunt, tracing a path downward until it fell onto your clit almost perfectly. Your hips startled at the cold sensation, but Wanda merely shushed you as the tips of her fingers sought out the source of your arousal. She hummed inquisitively, the pad of her finger pressing against your sopping entrance for merely a moment before it was gone and she was trailing strings of your wetness back up to your clit. 

“You’re so wet, utenok. No wonder you’re having such a hard time listening to Mommy. I bet it’s so hard to think when your pretty little pussy is just crying for attention.” Wanda mused mockingly, the pads of her fingers circling your clit that throbbed and ached for actual relief, but the pleasure never came. As quickly as her hand had dipped into your underwear and sought out your intimacy, they’d fallen away and resettled on your hips. The sticky thinness of your arousal smeared against your exposed skin kissed beautifully from the summer sun, and you knew she had every intention of making you walk through the mall with a patch of glimmering dampness adorning your body that you’d never have the courage to explain if someone questioned it. A deep blush settled across your cheeks, but Wanda wasn’t finished yet. Before you could reach out to her and tangle your fingers into the softness of her t-shirt, she was spinning you around and forcing your back against her chest. “Mommy’s not finished yet. Be a good girl and stay quiet while she checks something.” 

You’d almost had the chance to question her intentions before the words were stolen from between your bitten lips and the softest gasp of pleasure fell from you instead. Wanda’s fingers, still glistening with your arousal, had found a home beneath your skirt and against the base of the plug nestled deep within your ass. You’d only started trying the plugs out a couple weeks ago, but in that span of less than fourteen days they’d become something you adored and hated equally. The deep pleasure that came from constantly feeling full was insatiable and you craved it whenever Natasha pulled it out too soon, but you’ve grown to hate how every soft step shifted it against you perfectly, and especially how no matter which position you attempted to sit in it presses deeper and deeper into you without remorse. Wanda’s fingers circle the crimson red jewel framed between the globes of your ass, cheeks still pink from a spanking you’d received yesterday. The touch is soft, gentle, caring even, but when you think she’s about to pull away and end her little experiment, she taps harshly on the center plug twice, sending sparks of pleasure through your body and into your already fuzzy head. 

“So full for Mommy. Those panties are absolutely ruied, moya lyubov’.” Wanda pulls her hand out of your panties, spinning you back around in her arms and cradling you close to her chest as you shake and try to comprehend the fact that for right now, that simple touch was all you’d be getting. You’d think she almost felt an ounce of sympathy for your desperate form if she wasn’t wearing such a cocky smirk. “You’re being such a good girl, detka. Maybe we should keep you like this, huh? All full and eager to be fucked. Daddy could just bend you over anywhere and you’d take it, wouldn’t you?” Wanda preened into your ear, her words thick with lust and traces of an accent you’ve begun to memorize. You’re not sure whether to nod your head and agree, because it’s true, you’d let Natasha fuck you anywhere she wanted to right now, you’re not oblivious to the fact that she’s packing your favorite strap beneath those denim shorts adorning her toned legs, or to shake your head and beg for her to not let that happen. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive in this state for another couple hours, let alone for however long they deem acceptable. “Huh, answer Mommy, baby. Do you want Mommy to keep you like this forever? Want to be ready to use whenever Mommy and Daddy feel the need to take you?” 

“I-I want you, Mommy.” You pleaded, shaking your head frantically at the suggestion that rolls off of Wanda’s lips like its been imprinted onto the tip of her tongue for decades. The Sokovian smirks, drawing you in closer to her chest and letting her forehead rest against yours, her deep sage eyes peering into your soul with how intensely she stares down at you. 

“You have me, baby.” She soothed your downturned lips with a gentle kiss, her touch soft and smooth yet harboring a lingerance of artificial strawberry chapstick if you thought about her taste long enough. The embrace was fleeting, entirely too short, but it had your head spinning when she pulled away and greeted Natasha who you hadn’t even noticed had come up beside you. “Come on,” Wanda patted your ass deliberately, jostling the plug just softly enough to have you hyper aware of its presence but not earning pleasure. “we still have a couple of stores to hit.” 

“I was thinking we stop by that store you like, ducky. We can see if they have any of those little pins you were talking about?” Natasha places a firm hand on your back, her eyes kind but tinted with lust that has settled deep within her stare permanently since Wanda wiggled the plug between your cheeks. There’s a hint of knowingness in her smile, an indication that she knows perfectly well what had just happened between you and her wife. 

The proposition of spending another handful of hours surrounded by incompetent strangers with no regard for others and continuous sounds that blended into static chatter didn’t sound appealing, but unless you called red, they weren’t taking you home. Reluctantly, you took Natasha’s hand, allowing the lawyer to lead you out of the boutique and toward a store much more your style. Wanda’s hand stayed firm on the small of your back as Natasha took the lead, but your focus had fallen beneath the waves as you surrendered to them entirely. 

-

A desperate whine slipped past your lips as Wanda pulled you into her chest, toned arms still warm from the sun wrapping tightly around your torso and keeping you still. The dressing room was saturated in gold plated decor and embellishments, illuminated by a chandelier framed with dazzling crystals worth more than your entire college education. Natasha had dragged the both of you into the high-end designer store with the hopes of them having their new summer collection, and much to your annoyance, they did. The bold colored suits were a powerful statement, she’d look absolutely delectable in them, but that was exactly what you were worried about. The thought of her in a suit so expensive and sleek sent tingles through your belly that couldn’t just be ignored, especially not with your already existing desperation. Wanda wasn’t blind to your frustration, and she smirked wickedly down at you the second Natasha had slipped behind the heavy fitting room door. 

“Shh, Mommy just wants to check.” She whispered against the shell of your ear, a cold hand trailing up the inside of your thigh that is absolutely drenched with arousal. Your eyes burn into hers as you both become controlled by lust, already blown pupils somehow finding additional blackness to manipulate until the color in Wanda’s eyes is entirely vacant. Your bottom lip is bitten and quivering as you feel her fingers start to massage your slick coated folds, a shaky breath at the back of your throat desperate to be unleashed. “Oh, you’re so wet sweetheart. Did Mommy do this to you?” 

You nod shortly at her question, aware of how close the tips of her cold fingers are coming to your clit every time she strokes the length of your folds, but each time they never brush against your stiff and throbbing nerve, merely coming close enough to tease before they’re gone. She circles your entrance repetitively, pressing against it only to pull away seconds later and trail her fingers back down toward the plug, but she never fully grazes that either. She’s content to keep playing with your body like a toy in the middle of the fitting room, her lewd actions have entirely drowned out the sounds of Natasha throwing different articles of clothes around in the dressing room just a few feet behind you, your focus entirely on her and the sensations she’s provoking cautiously. 

“Oh she did? Mommy did this? What a little slut, getting so worked up and Mommy’s not even touching you fully. You’re so easy, dorogaya” Wanda continues to tease condescendingly, giving you not a single second of relief as she digs her fingers harder into your cunt on the last swipe across your panties before she’s hooking her fingers into the waistband and tugging them down. 

Your eyes go wide as you look up at her fully, your shoulders tensing as she keeps tugging the soiled garment down your thighs. “W-What are you doing?” Your skirt is short, it’s flowy and it’s thin but that was Natasha’s entire goal when she dressed you that morning. You know that despite the length every intimate part of your body is covered, but you weren’t prepared to challenge the wind once you stepped outside again. 

“Color?” Wanda stops her movements, her voice soft and kind as she keeps her eyes on you. Everything before this point had been a discussion that you’d had time to prepare yourself for, but this was unplanned and admittedly terrifying, and yet your belly clenched at the prospect of her undressing you in a public space and forcing you to walk around with no barrier to catch your arousal. 

“G-Green.” You mumbled back at her once you’d taken a second to collect your thoughts and swallow your shock. Wanda nodded curtly before she slipped right back into her role, eyes hard and jaw clenched as she continued pulling your panties down before tapping your thigh in a silent demand for you to step out of them. 

“Then stop talking and let Mommy do what she wants.”  Her voice was hard, leaving no space for you to argue, but you weren’t going to. You stepped out of your panties with a gentle wince, feeling their dampness against your shins before the sensation was gone entirely and Wanda was holding them up to the light to inspect. Your cheeks flushed in humiliation, watching her fingers swipe across the soaked material before she hummed and folded them up, shoving them into her back pocket like they were just a piece of paper she’d found on the ground. “Good girl.” 

You bristled beneath her praise, but your attention drifted away from her when you heard the door unlock and Natasha’s soft footsteps came stepping out slowly. There was no question about whether she had heard the entire exchange, but you had no time to pay attention to her cheeks flush with need as you drank in the sight of her in a hundred thousand dollar suit. If your eyes weren’t already blown wide with lust, they certainly were now as you gawked at her defined biceps and breasts, the suit drowning some of her more prominent features but highly accentuating others. A rippled whine fell off your tongue as your eyes memorized the sight, but so badly you wanted to rip it off her body and drag her home to appreciate her fully. 

“P-Please.” You just barely got the plea off of your lips as Wanda sparked up a conversation with her wife, commenting on the fit of the suit before she began her shower of compliments and praise. You’d gone ignored, or maybe they just hadn’t heard you, whatever the reason for their silence toward you, it only frustrated you further. “Daddy please!” You tried again, eyes wet and pleading as you held onto the little attention Natasha was providing you as her eyes danced away from Wanda’s and found yours beneath the bright LED lights. 

“Shh.” Wanda scolded, a finger coming up to sit on your lips as she turned her head to glare at you. It wasn’t intentional, but your lips had done it anyway. The second her finger, still soft from your arousal, brushed against your lips, you’d let your tongue poke out and lick at her finger, able to identify the traces of you that clung to her skin despite how she’d wiped her fingers clean on your outer thigh. Your lips wrapped around the digit, suckling and biting sweetly as the blanket over your mind became thicker and warmer. Wanda didn’t stop you, merely returned her attention to Natasha before the Russian nodded and disappeared back into the fitting room, hopefully changing back into her own clothes. “Mommy needs that back, little one.” Wanda said softly, gently easing her finger from between your lips when it became apparent that you weren’t going to relinquish it yourself. A pitiful whine came falling off the tip of your tongue when she pulled it away, but she merely smiled sweetly and kissed the top of your head. “Come on, Daddy’s gonna check out and then we’re going to go home.” 

You shook your head, absolutely appalled at the suggestion that you’d have to wait until you arrived home to get what you wanted. The mall wasn’t far, but an hour was a long time for someone who had been teased and dragged along relentlessly since the sun had first kissed the gravel paths that weaved and winded through Westview. 

“No?” Wanda furrowed her brows, looking down at you with nothing but softness in her still black and lust filled stare. She’d dropped the condescending tone, abandoned the fleeting touches and teasing, but the only thing that would fully cure the arousal in her eyes was getting a taste of your sweet pussy. 

The words felt heavy on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t last another hour without release, and so they found their way off of your lips before you could panic about the implications of your request, “Fuck me now.” 

Wanda’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but that look of shock that claimed her strong features had quickly become something sinister as she stepped closer to you, invading your personal space and allowed you the slightest tinge of her perfume as her chest came flush with yours and she let a single finger tilt your head upward to meet her heavy stare. “Yeah? You want your Daddy to put that strap to use and treat you like a filthy little slut where anyone can hear you crying out in pleasure? You want an audience, moya utenok?” 

A whimper filled the dressing room as your thighs pressed together, your lack of panties leaving the rush of arousal to drip nowhere by your thighs as you writhed beneath Wanda. A soft nod came next, and Wanda smirked proudly, mimicking your gesture before she stepped away entirely and turned her attention back to Natasha who had only just left the dressing room with the suit thrown over her forearm. 

“Hurry up, moya lyubov’. The little slut wants her Daddy to fuck her and who am I to say no to that?” Wanda taunted, grabbing your hand and leading you back out into the store, letting Natasha check out in peace as she occupied you with whispered promises of how the Russian was going to absolutely ruin you where anyone was around to watch. 

-

The only saving grace about Natasha’s car were the tinted windows that blocked out the eyes of anyone who dared to even get close to the Stingray. The seat was drenched in your arousal, thighs spread wide as you occupied almost the entire strip of leather. She’d need to clean the seats thoroughly when you got home, but for right now, neither of you cared. Your hands sunk into the cushioned row of seats as you pressed your ass out further, back arched and muscles strained as you dropped your forehead onto the window and watched with slitted eyes as your breath fogged up the glass. Wanda watched from the passenger seat, green eyes trained on your desperate form that reflected off the rearview mirror pointed downward. Natasha was pressed up against the door, shorts unzipped and hanging loosely over her hip bones as the strap stood at full attention, no longer confined beneath the stiff denim. 

Your skirt was bunched up around your hips, ass and thighs already red from various hits and spanks that the Russian had laid upon your ivory skin. She’d yet to touch you, but each hit that rocked the plug in your ass sent you reeling closer and closer to ultimate pleasure. All you could make out was white spots as they danced along your vision and intercepted the view of strangers and cars wrecking havoc in the parking lot around you. Even when a middle aged man and his wife had gotten close to the car, shopping bags in each of their hands that you could only assume was a pending return, you hadn’t focused much on what they could see from the outside. Your focus was entirely on Natasha, and yet the lawyer hadn’t done anything since bending you over. 

“D-Daddy please! I need you so bad! Please!” You cried out in desperation, back arching further as your nipples grazed the seats, your ass grinding against the strap that she refused to shove into you just yet. What she was waiting for, you didn’t know, but every agonizing second that passed was becoming longer and longer as you waited for relief to wash over you fully. Only she could get you to that point, and yet no matter how much you pleaded with her she didn’t cave. “P-Please!” A strangled cry slipped past your lips when her hand found your ass and her thumb pressed firmly on the jeweled plug nestled between your cheeks. 

“Shh.” The Russian coos. It’s the first sound that’s come to fill the car that wasn’t your own since she had aggressively shoved you into the backseat, and you greedily drink in the unspoken promise that what you want is coming soon. You have no time to prepare yourself for the intrusion of her strap as it slips between your folds and finds a home within your cunt in seconds, but you gasp so sweetly that Natasha doesn’t stop to give you a moment to adjust to the wide girth that’s splitting you open. You’ve wanted this for hours, she’s in no mood to drag your pleasure out any further, having already tested her own patience as she waited for Wanda’s silent permission to begin. You’d been oblivious to the curt nod that was given by the Sokovian, but as much as the game was in Natasha’s hands now, Wanda still held all the cards. “Do you feel that, malyshka? Feel Daddy’s cock splitting you open? Filling this slutty little pussy where anyone can see if they come close enough. I bet you’re so full. This pretty little plug has been driving you crazy all day, hasn’t it? Mommy picked out such a pretty color for you.” As the words drive you farther and farther into pleasure and submission, Natasha’s thumb presses against the plug and sends your mind spiraling downward into a sea of static energy. There’s a thick ringing in your ears that forces your mind to go blank, your hips that had been stuttering against her quick thrusts stilling as you surrendered your body to her control, willing to take whatever she gave you in this very moment. 

Natasha’s thrusts only grow faster as your moans and whines become softer and sweeter, desperation not only evident in the way your arousal soaks your thighs and the seats, but in the pitch of your moans as they fill the car and ricochet off the windows. You don’t have it in you to feel embarrassed by how loud you’re being, your only focus is taking the pleasure and not letting it slip away again. A broken cry leaves your lips as Natasha’s hand finds your clit, thumb rubbing circles on the sensitive nub as she winds you tighter and tighter. Her own thrusts are becoming choppy and quick, groans of pleasure harmonizing with yours until the entire car is just an explicit symphony of intimacy. Wanda’s eyes haven’t left you once, but you can’t see her with the way you’re bent and arched over. Natasha can, and she curses beautiful in Russian as she gives you the green light to let go. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Cum for me. Cum on Daddy’s strap.” She encourages gently, her thrusts growing harsher as she chases her own pleasure and orgasms with a delicate moan, though it's quickly drowned out by your own sobs and cries of bliss as you writhe beneath her heavy hands and let the coil snap in your belly. Your body shakes in the aftermath, arms giving out on you as you crash against the leather seats and subsequently pull your cunt off of her strap, the glistening material catching rays of sunlight before she quickly tucks it back into her shorts and zips them up. “You did so good for us, malyshka. So so good.” Natasha kisses the bottom of your spine, her fingers working on the plug in your ass simultaneously. Wanda maneuvered herself in the passenger seat, her hand reaching out to just barely brush against your upper back as well. “Relax for me, angel. Let Daddy take this plug out and then we’ll go home.” She talks you through the process, but nothing prepares you for how empty you feel when the metal is no longer flush against your walls keeping you full. A strangled whimper falls off your lips before it’s gently drowned out by shushing and shuffling. Natasha, unwilling to let you go through aftercare in a crowded parking lot all twisted up, opens the door and steps out of the car, nodding for Wanda to occupy a seat in the back beside you. “Mommy’s gonna sit back here with you, and Daddy’s gonna take us home. Just let go, honey. It’s all okay.” 

It doesn’t take longer than five minutes for Wanda to be sat beside you, your body curled up into her chest and void of a seatbelt. Typically she’d scold you for such a behavior, but all she does now is hold you tighter and kiss your head, promising that you’ll be home soon and there will be plenty of cuddles and kisses all wrapped up beneath the heavy blankets on the bed.

[ilguna]

Hey! Can I get the number 89 (in honour of 1989 tv) with finnick ?

☼ lovestruck, lovesick, lovelorn pt1 (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing, death mention, death, gore for sure, blood, weapon usage, mention of prostitution.

wc; 8.6k

prompt; 86. "Do you trust her?" // "No, but I trust her anger."

notes; i already did 89 for Peeta (castaway) and i'm trying not to do any repeats, so we're going with 86 :)

part two, part three.

--

The golden Cornucopia sits abandoned in the middle of this black sand island, whereas normally it’s occupied by the Careers to ensure that no intruders steal from them. There must not be anything worth protecting in here, then, besides the weapons that are displayed.

This allows the group to spread out, picking places to rest in the shade. Peeta lowers Beetee to the ground, propping him up against a box. He backs off, going to stand next to Katniss.

Beetee calls out to Wiress, making her go over to him. She crouches down, hands on her knees, waiting. In her limited state of mind, you’re fairly surprised that she’s still comprehending people, much less requests. He holds up his coil of wire, she takes it. “Clean it, will you?” 

Wiress nods, wordlessly getting to her feet and going to sit on the edge of the island to clean the spool of blood. She dunks it in the water, occasionally using her fingers to rub a particularly hard spot. While she does this, she begins to sing, no longer repeating the words ‘tick tock’.

It must be some sort of nursery rhyme from District Three, because you don’t recognize it. It’s about a mouse running up and down a clock, which is fairly appropriate, given the recent discovery, thanks to her.

“Oh, not the song again.” Johanna says, rolling her brown eyes. “That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking.”

Wiress stops suddenly, getting to her feet, posture rigid as she points to the jungle and says, “Two.”

The rest of you watch as a white wave of fog begins to seep onto the beach. From here, it doesn't seem so threatening. You probably wouldn’t think twice about it, if you hadn’t run for your life from it early this morning. While it melted your jumpsuit and poisoned your skin, causing you to strip to your under clothes and for your body to be covered in scabs from where it touched you.

You’d rather fight the orange monkey muttations a hundred times than risk doing that again.

“Yes, look, Wiress is right. It’s two o’clock and the fog has started.” Katniss says.

“LIke clockwork.” Peeta agrees. “You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress.”

Wiress smiles, and then kneels in the sand to continue singing and dunking the coil in water. “Oh, she’s more than smart.” Beetee says from beside you. Your eyes slide over to him. “She’s intuitive. She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines.”

“What’s that?” Finnick asks Katniss.

“It’s a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there’s bad air.” She says.

“What’s it do, die?” Johanna scoffs.

“It stops singing first. That’s when you should get out. But if the air’s too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you.” Katniss ends that line of conversation, turning to go inside of the Cornucopia.

Johanna goes in after her to poke around in the weapons, since she’s been empty handed the entire time. Funny how Beetee was able to make it to the Cornucopia before she did, even if it ended up getting him hurt because of it.

You briefly glance at Finnick from where you were watching Johanna, and you have to do a double-take when you realize that he’s staring at you. He looks you over, up and down, which would be flattering, if you didn’t know that he was assessing your demeanor, deciding if you were a threat.

You squint at him, face twisting. “What?”

“Nothing.” He tells you.

“It’s not nothing if you’re looking at me like that.” You snap. “Leave me alone.”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t say anything back. You’re getting tired of him thinking that you’re going to betray the alliance. You’re in this as much as he is, you volunteered to be here. If anything, he should be a little grateful that he got a district partner that’s invested and capable.

He doesn’t see it that way, though. He thinks that you’re just as bad as Enobaria and Brutus—that you’re itching to get back into an arena to kill for some spotlight. And you know this, because he told you himself on the train. Once you were out of sight of the cameras, he tried to lay you out in front of Mags and the escort, and you shut him down.

You know he disagrees with the way you choose to handle situations, but to think that you would get in the way of a rebellion was a slap to the face. You made sure he knew that later on, when you were out of earshot of the Peacekeepers. If he wanted to think of you so lowly, fine. The line is drawn when he begins to implant those ideas in other people’s heads, too. Especially since you’ve done nothing to deserve it.

It didn’t matter to him. In fact, he tried to block you from being invited into the alliance by telling Haymitch that you could fuck the whole plan if your mood changes. He said all it would take is one disagreement, one thing not going the way you wanted, one wrong look, and you’d make sure that everyone else would be brought down by it.

Thankfully, Haymitch knows better than to just take Finnick’s word for it. He might be a drunk, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t paying attention for the past ten years. He knows that you and Finnick have a history of not getting along. If anything, you’ll sabotage Finnick more than you will the alliance as a whole.

Which is why he told you that you have a place in it, if you want. And while everyone else places stepping stones to make sure that the plan to get rescued is in place. You were told that you have two jobs; the first one being protecting Katniss and Peeta, a task that you were already prepared to risk your life for. As for the second one—if anything were to go wrong, if someone unexpected were to get killed, you’ll replace their shoes, and get Katniss and Peeta to the end of the day at all costs.

This is why you’ve been on edge. If Finnick would see past his hatred for you, and thought about it, he’d realize that you’re trying to make sure that Katniss and Peeta are in good positions. You are not the threat here.

Johanna lets out a grunt, you turn your head in time to watch as she throws an axe through the air, straight at the Cornucopia. It hits the sun-softened gold with a gentle thud, and it sticks. She crosses the area, pulling it out by the handle, making a face at the blade.

Katniss is digging through the weapons, probably looking for more arrows to add to her collection, because two sheaths aren’t enough. When she finds one, she swings it over her back and comes out to stand over Peeta, who’s drawing a map of the arena onto a large leaf that he brought from the jungle. He slices the circle, creating twelve equal wedges.

“Look how the Cornucopia is positioned.” He says, looking up at her.

Her eyebrows draw in, and she turns around to take a look at the building she just came out of. “The tail points to twelve o’clock.”

“Right, so this is the top of our clock.” He says, numbering the wedges one through twelve. “Twelve to one is the lightning zone.” He proceeds to write lightning in the wedge, and then goes clockwise, adding blood, fog, and monkeys in the next sections.

“And ten to eleven is the wave.” She says, he writes it down. 

Finnick comes over with Johanna, the two of them have upped the weapon count on their bodies. And he thinks you’re the dangerous one, as if you don’t have a sword and a couple knives on you. Does he really need two tridents and half a dozen knives? It makes him look…

Hot, a voice whispers from the depth of your mind, It makes him look hot.

He’s standing in a patch of sun, where the Cornucopia doesn’t quite reach. The sunbeams baking his already tanned skin. His eyes are a brighter shade of sea green, with the light being in his eyes. He looks like he belongs at the bottom of the ocean, commanding the creatures that dwell in it.

He must feel your eyes on him, because he flickers over to yours. You stare for a second longer, before blinking and looking away, back at the map that’s being drawn. 

It’s a shame that Finnick decided years back that he would rather keep you at a distance instead of making a friend out of you. The two of you are so similar that it hurts at times, but all he can see are the differences, which hurts more.

The both of you won at young ages, with him setting the record, while you won at fifteen. He had an advantage in his Games, though, because the sponsors were drawn in by his good looks for being someone so young. This meant that he had everything he could have ever asked for gifted to him in the arena.

On the other hand, you didn’t make much of an impression during your reaping or the Tribute Parade, forcing you to change the strategy that you’d been given by Finnick and Mags. They wanted you to keep your head down, but if you wanted even a sliver of a chance, you needed to make your name big.

So, that’s exactly what you did. And that’s where the resentment he has for you, started. You showed off absolutely all your skills in the Training Center, making sure the Gamemakers knew you had potential, getting you a score of nine. During your interviews, you told Caesar that there wasn’t a single hurdle you wouldn’t jump to get home.

That statement was put to the test in the arena, when you killed several tributes, including your own district partner, because you knew it put you one step closer to getting out. You didn’t care what bridges you had to burn, how many sponsors you had to lose, or if you lost the support of your mentors. Nothing could stop you, and it didn’t.

Finnick hates that you had no remorse when you got out of the arena. Or now, because you told him that this is the hill you’ve chosen to die on, because between life and death, you choose life. He can’t wrap his head around the fact you’re so cold. How could the two of you be from the same district?

The similarities came back into play when you turned sixteen, when the Capitol realized that they do care about you. Which changed your title from victor to Capitol darling. You were told to join Finnick and be a prostitute, or President Snow would kill your family. 

This is where you screwed up, believing him to be bluffing. You didn’t think he would actually do it, but he’s a man of his word. When you were done listening to the screams and pleas of your parents to spare your siblings, Snow told you that if you didn’t agree, Finnick’s family would be next.

You had no choice, you had to agree. And when Finnick found out that you landed right where he was, there wasn’t a single shred of empathy he had toward you. Not even after you returned to District Four, and he learned that your family had been murdered in your home. The one you’d be forced to stay in for an additional two weeks while they got your victor house ready.

If you weren’t indifferent to his existence before, you sure as hell were then.

“Did you notice anything unusual in the others?” Katniss asks Johanna and Beetee, referring to the wedges. 

“Only blood.” Johanna says, Beetee nods.

“I guess they could hold anything.” Katniss looks down at Peeta.

“I’m going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemakers’ weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we’ll stay clear of those.” Peeta says, drawing diagonal lines on the fog and wave beaches. He then sits back. “Well, it’s a lot more than we knew this morning, anyway.”

You look up, going to check on Wiress, since she’s gone quiet. Your eyes find Gloss, water dripping from his bare skin, knife sliding across the skin on her throat. It’s too late to save her, you know this when the blood begins to come down her neck like a waterfall.

The knife on your belt is in your hand and flying through the air in the matter of seconds. It’s headed right for Gloss, and when the blade lodges in the center of his forehead, it throws him back. This kills him instantly.

A movement out of the corner of your eye makes you turn your head, hand reaching for the knife that’s lined up next, but Johanna’s on it. She buries her axe in the center of Cashmere’s chest, eliminating her.

Three cannons blast, back to back.

Finnick swings his trident upward, deflecting a spear that had been aiming for Peeta, thrown by Brutus. Finnick goes to twist his body to take the knife that Enobaria throws at Beetee, but he misses by an inch. It’s too late for you to save Beetee, as the knife shatters the lens on the right side, and the blade buries itself in his eye socket.

Fuck.

Another cannon blasts.

You shove Finnick out of the way to chase after Enobaria and Brutus, who are making their escape around the backside of the Cornucopia. They’ve successfully killed two of your most important allies, and they don’t even realize it.

The two Careers are running down one of the sand strips to the beach. You manage to throw one more knife at Brutus before he’s out of range. It slams into his right calf, taking him down. He lands on his hands and knees, which is exactly what you were hoping for.

Right as you’re about to step onto the strip, the ground beneath you jerks, throwing you down. The center island of the Cornucopia begins to spin, fast. You press your sword between your body and the ground, digging your fingers into the grooves to hold on. 

It’s only thirty seconds later when it slams to a stop without warning. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, taking measured breaths to calm the growing annoyance in your chest. The Gamemakers knew you would kill Brutus, and later Enobaria, if you caught up with her. That’s why they had to intervene, otherwise the fun of the Games would be gone.

You slam your fist against the rock, pushing yourself to your knees. You lean back on your heels slightly, face to the sun while you collect yourself. With Wiress and Beetee being gone, this is a very large hiccup that you’re going to have to smooth out. You jinxed yourself, didn’t you?

A sigh leaves you as you get to your feet, swinging the sword into your hand. As you round the corner, you can see that everyone else is upright. Finnick looks over at you, eyebrows raised, waiting for good news, because you were the closest to the Two tributes.

“Brutus is injured. I would’ve had him if the fuckin’ Gamemakers had minded their own business.” You stab the tip of the sword into a patch of sand.

“Where’s Volts?” Johanna asks, looking around the group.

“He’s dead.” You tell her.

She meets your eyes, “What happened?”

“I—” Finnick starts.

“I didn’t block the knife in time.” You talk over him. “Enobaria’s got a strong arm, it went right through his glasses.”

You can see Finnick staring at you from the corner of your eye. You lick your lips, tasting the salt of the water, before pressing them together. When you look at him, the two of you stare for a long second.

You, Johanna and Finnick know what this means. If just one of the Three tributes had been killed, you could’ve used the other. With both of them being gone, it means that someone needs to pick up their job, and you were the one that was elected to do just that.

“What now?” Finnick asks you.

You tilt your head, eyes going out to the water, finding two of the four bodies. It’s got to be Wiress and Gloss, because they’d been right next to each other when they died. You lean your sword up against the Cornucopia before wandering forward, to the edge of the island.

Wiress is floating on her back, on her stomach sits the spool of wire, golden and shining in the sunlight. You begin to head down the sand strip closest to her body. “I want the wire.”

“What for?” Johanna asks, “That was his weapon, not yours.”

You look over your shoulder. “It has to be now, doesn’t it?”

Johanna makes a face, but it’s not one of doubt. She knows that you’re right, that’s why she won’t bother to argue. Not that she would, anyway. You and Johanna get along, basically two peas in the same pod. She just likes Finnick more, because he puts up with her bullshit.

You jog as close as you can get to Wiress’s body, before diving in the warm water. It’s a nice break from the sun, even if it is for a minute. It doesn’t take long to get to her body, prying the coil from her fingers. You’re about to swim away, when you hesitate, closing her eyes.

Finnick is waiting for you on the strip when you get back to it. You place the wire on the rock, and he reaches down to help you up. Your face twists, but you take his hand, letting him help. The moment you’re on both feet, he pulls you close, a rough hand on your shoulder as he pulls you close to speak in your ear.

“If you can’t do this, you need to tell me. I’ll figure something else out.” Finnick harshly whispers.

You jerk back, squinting at him. “Worry about yourself.” 

As you stoop to grab the wire, Finnick shakes his head. “I mean it, (Y/n).”

“And so do I.” You tell him, lowering your voice. “There’s a reason why Haymitch trusted me with this, and not you.”

He raises his eyebrows, “We’re back to this, huh?”

You scoff loudly. “You’re the one that’s upset by it, Finnick. So, here’s a fucking suggestion: deal with it.” You shake your head. “You’re so worried that I’m going to betray the alliance, that’s you’re forgetting that this is what I do.” You motion to the jungle with your free hand. “Enobaria and Brutus can run all they want, but we both know they’re going to have to come out eventually if they plan on finishing us off. And when they do, they’re going to get it.

“Not from you, not from Johanna, from me.” You seethe, moving around Finnick to head back up to the Cornucopia. You throw your hands up, one of them still holding the wire. “Face it, Finnick, I’ve got this handled.”

You turn around, finding that your three other allies have their eyes on you. You ignore them, watching where you place your feet. On the island, you retrieve your sword, dropping the wire onto a box. Finnick is a few feet behind you, wearing a hard expression.

You hate it when you have to talk to him like that, but you can’t do it any other way if you want him to listen to you. It’s like he doesn’t care unless you’re being hostile, except that tone of voice has him on edge, afraid that you’re going to flip a switch.

There is no happy medium. It’s like he’s dead-set on thinking that you’re an unlikable person. You wouldn’t have minded having an actual conversation between you, Finnick and Johanna to figure out a plan together. It’s his fault that he decided to take the situation into his own hands by assuming that you wouldn’t have the ability to fill Beetee’s shoes.

It makes you mad, so now you’re going to take care of it by yourself. As much as he wants you to ask for help, you’ll do everything in your power to make sure you don’t need him. Or the others, for that matter.

“Let’s get off this stinking island.” Johanna says once Finnick has joined the group.

You dig through the weapons in the Cornucopia, looking for a pair of knives that aren’t too short. The only ones that are available are displayed on the wall in the very back. They’re slightly curved, not too heavy. They’ll work just fine.

You watch as Peeta, Finnick and Johanna start in three different directions.

You stand next to Katniss, watching this. When they realize that no one is following them, they stop.

“Twelve o’clock, right?” Peeta asks. “The tail points at twelve.”

“Before they spun us.” Finnick says. “I was judging by the sun.”

“The sun only tells you it’s going on four, Finnick.” Katniss tells him. “Any one of these paths could lead to twelve o’clock.”

You tuck the knives in your belt, as you circle the Cornucopia with them to try and find the path that’ll lead to the twelve beach. Only, the jungle is perfectly replicated in every section, down to the last tree. Johanna suggests following Enobaria and Brutus’s path, but it’s been washed away.

Katniss stops. “I should have never mentioned the clock. Now they’ve taken that advantage away as well.”

“For now.” You murmur. “We still have the wave at ten to tell us, we’ll be back on track after that.”

“Yes, they can’t redesign the whole arena.” Peeta says.

“It doesn’t matter.” Johanna’s growing impatient, wanting to move. “You had to tell us or we never would have moved our camp in the first place, brainless. Come on, I need water. Anyone have a good gut feeling?”

You let them decide which strip to take to the beach. Katniss and Peeta begin to lead the way. You grab the wire, motioning for Johanna and Finnick to go next, but they don’t budge. You roll your eyes and duck your head, putting a good distance between you and Peeta before you walk.

“What’s the plan?” Johanna’s voice sounds far, and she’s trying to be quiet, but there’s not enough going on for it to conceal her.

“She says she’ll handle it.” Finnick murmurs, you can’t tell if he’s mad or not.

“That’s it?” She asks, “It looked like she was yelling at you.”

“She did.” He says. “She told me to worry about myself, and she’ll handle Enobaria and Brutus.”

Johanna doesn’t speak right away. “Do you trust her?”

“No, but I trust her anger.” He tells her. “She’s right, this is what she does best.”

“So, you want to follow behind her?”

“Do you have any other ideas?” Finnick shoots back.

“No.” Johanna sighs.

When you get to the jungle, they look inside of it, trying to figure out if there’s anything waiting inside or not. When you can’t see any immediate threats, they relax.

“Well, it must be monkey hour. And I don’t see any of them in there.” Peeta says. “I’m going to try to tap a tree.”

“No, it’s my turn.” Finnick objects. “I’ll at least watch your back.”

“Katniss can do that.” Johanna says. “We need you to make another map. The other washed away.” She reaches up, yanking off a large leaf to hand to him. “(Y/n) can stay with us, while she figures out what to do with the wire.”

You drop it in the sand, along with your sword, as you sit down. Peeta crouches beside you, beginning to make his map, again. As you watch him draw the slices, your mind begins to wander. 

Katniss and Peeta are the Careers’ focus. They want to target the ones with the highest scores first, and then work their way down. If they take out a few of you in the process, then that’s great, but they’re afraid of what the Twelve tributes could’ve possibly done in order to get a perfect score.

It was a little odd for Gloss to go for Wiress, if this is the case. And Cashmere wasn’t able to kill anybody before she died. You guess she might have been going for Katniss, but Johanna was in between them, she wasn’t going to make it that far. That’s why Brutus tried to get Peeta with the spear, and maybe the knife was originally aimed for Peeta, not Beetee?

You just can’t wrap your head around their strategy of getting rid of the Three tributes. Were Enobaria and Brutus that worried about you guys coming up with a plan to use the explosives on the tribute platforms? It wouldn’t be the first time it happened in the Games, it’s just a stupid idea to do it in the water, when you have nothing to steady yourself on.

Either way, you need to figure out a way to draw them in. If there’s anything you know for sure, it’s that they’ll wait until dark to attack again, because they’ll have cover. It’s only the two of them now, which means they won’t attack the five of you all together, they’ll get overpowered in seconds. They’ll wait until you split up.

You play with the wire, twisting it between your fingers while you think.

If they send another twenty-four rolls from District Three tonight, you’ll have no choice but to go into the jungle for the lightning section, because that’s where they’ll be rescuing you out of the arena. You would just say that you should go up to the lightning tree and wait, except you won’t know what time it is until ten, like you said.

When the wave does it, you’ll have two hours to get to the tree. After that, Katniss and Peeta will have to get split up long enough to get the tracker out of their arms. That’ll be the perfect time to kill Enobaria and Brutus, too.

You just need a reason for them to split up. Johanna’s already agreed to getting it out of Katniss’s arm, which left Peeta for Finnick. You need some sort of placebo plan in the meantime, something for them to focus on to keep their minds off of the fact that the situation is going to be very, very suspicious.

“That’s it.” Peeta says, sitting back. “I don’t—”

A scream cuts through the still air, silencing him. You whip around to look back at the jungle, unsure of whether or not it belongs to Katniss. As you get to your feet, sword in your hand, you can hear another voice, shouting back. That one sounds like Katniss.

“What’s happening?” Peeta asks.

You get to your feet before he does, pulling the sword into your hand as you break through the jungle, swinging at any leaves in your way. “I think we chose the wrong section.”

“It’s supposed to be the monkey mutts right now, how can it be anything else?” Peeta asks.

Your face twists as you look over your shoulder, finding that Johanna’s eyes have rolled back as far as she can get them. “Because it’s the next hour?” She snarks.

Peeta doesn’t respond. For a moment, you’re genuinely concerned that the forcefield on the first day might have fried his brain a lot more than you thought. When you begin to think of all the decisions he’s made over these past couple of days, you relax. It’s not really out of his nature to say something stupid once in a while.

You’re about twenty yards into the jungle when you stop suddenly, sword at your side, eyes scanning the trees above. When Johanna and Peeta finally pause, you realize just how quiet it is out here.

Johanna takes a step or two forward, coming to stand next to you, looking up at the tree branches. She covers her eyes with one hand, squinting. “There’s no birds.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.” You tell her, your normal voice feels too loud. “There’s not even insects.”

“What are you thinking?” She asks, looking at you.

“I feel like it’s too early to be the beast, because the sun was down further yesterday.” 

She nods. “A new hour.”

“That doesn’t explain why it’s so quiet.” Peeta says.

“Could be something in the trees.” You tell him, turning your body to face him. “That’s why I don’t want to go further in.”

“But Katniss and Finnick are in there.” Peeta shakes his head. “We have to.”

“Don’t you think they would’ve called for help by now?” You ask, “We heard Katniss say something, but then she stopped.”

“And they can’t be dead because there’s no cannon.” Johanna says after. “What if they’re hurt?”

You look further into the jungle. “It’s a bad idea.”

“We have to try.” Peeta says, starting toward the two of you.

You move in time to let him pass without running into your shoulder. He makes it an additional five yards before he walks smack into a wall, head bouncing off. A little smile fights its way onto your face, and then it vanishes when you realize that this is exactly what happened when he hit the forcefield.

He reaches out, going to touch it. You stride forward, grabbing the back of the neck of his undershirt, yanking him back. “Are you stupid?”

“Wait.” He swats your hand free. “Watch.”

You grab his wrist when he holds his hand out again, causing him to look at you with wide eyes. “I’m not taking any chances with you.”

“Then do it yourself.” Peeta motions, you let go. “It would’ve blown me back if it was a forcefield. Besides, it’s too far down.”

You look at space in front of you, seemingly fine. The wall that he’d run into isn’t even visible. You take in a breath, holding it, before sticking your hand out in the direction of it.

The palm of your hand vibrates against it, you apply pressure, wondering if it’ll budge if you lean into it, but it doesn’t move. You look down at your sword, pressing your lips together. If this is a forcefield, this will most definitely kill you. Still, you swing the sword into the invisible wall, and you’re pleasantly surprised when it doesn’t explode into sparks upon contact.

“Well…” You trail off, beginning to walk around the wall, keeping one hand on it. No matter where you touch, or how far along you walk, the wall doesn’t stop. You make it into the next section of the jungle, and around the corner, and still feel it there. When you make it back to Johanna and Peeta, you shake your head. “Sealed.”

“They’re inside?” Peeta asks. “Do you think they can hear us?”

“I’m going to say no.” Johanna grunts, swinging her axe into the wall repeatedly. “If we can’t hear the birds,” Her voice is strained, “Then we can’t hear them.” She stops, tossing the axe aside, it lands next to a bush. She sighs, “I guess we’re going to wait out here.”

Peeta doesn’t like this idea, you can tell by the way his face screws up, but he knows you don’t have any other choice. 

“I’m going to grab the wire, then.” You tell her.

“Speaking of it, come up with anything yet?” She asks, eyebrows raised.

“Almost.” You say, walking away from her.

When you get to the beach and find the wire, you don’t go back into the jungle right away. You stand beneath a patch of shade, staring at the Cornucopia, and the trees beyond it, squinting.

From what you can tell, Enobaria and Brutus aren’t on the beach or in the treeline, which means that they’re in those trees, somewhere. They must be fairly far in, where they’re resting. They likely won’t come out again until they’ve been sponsored and their wounds are healing. And even then, they’ll make sure you’re not on the beach, first.

Or maybe they are able to see you, and you just can’t see them.

If you were in their shoes, you’d be watching your every move right now to figure out what you’re doing. And if that’s the case, it doesn’t matter what you do with this wire, they’ll already know the plan. Really, it would just be an excuse to split Katniss and Peeta.

So, that’s what it’ll be.

The wire could be used for a number of things, you could probably make a trap out of it. There’s enough of it for you to bring it to the tree and back down to the beach, twice. The question is what Beetee would have used it for.

You close your eyes, listening to the waves on the beach, trying to remember how Beetee won his Games. You were talking to Mags about it the other day, she was telling you that it’s been thirty years since he won. Back then, he wasn’t the strongest tribute either, he had to make something to electrocute the last remaining tributes.

He wouldn’t really be able to do that now. He had the sources—the lightning at midnight and the water at the center. In the condition he was in before he got killed, he wouldn’t have been able to make the trip up to the tree, back down to the water, and up again to be out of the way of the electricity. And the chances of the wire being cut by the Careers isn’t that low, even in your situation now.

You’d need someone at the base of the tree, and someone unspooling the wire down to the water…

Your eyes pop open, it takes them a second to adjust to the sudden light. You stare at the water. This is what Beetee was going to do, wasn’t it? The wire acts as a conductor. If you hook it up to the tree at the right time when it strikes, it’ll fry everything in the water.

But what you want is to kill the Careers, in a way. The sand would have to be wet too, or at least damp. Which… Which will be the exact case when the wave hits at ten, and it’ll be cooler out, so the water won’t evaporate as quickly. If you bury the spool in the sand, it should have the entire beach covered and the water.

“Bingo.” You say, grabbing the coil.

You join the others back inside of the jungle, finding Peeta on the floor, forehead pressed to the invisible wall. Johanna’s pacing back and forth, arms crossed over her chest. When you get closer, you’re able to see that Katniss and Finnick are on the other side, both of them with their hands over their ears.

When a twig snaps beneath your weight, Johanna looks over. She lets out a sigh, shoulders slumping. “What took you so long?”

“Came up with a plan.” You tell her, dropping the wire and your sword next to one of her axes. 

“What plan?” Peeta asks, unmoving.

“On how to kill the remaining Careers.” You wink at Johanna, but it’s not flirtatious.

You know she understands when the crease appears between her eyebrows, giving you a slight nod. “Care to enlighten us?”

“When they’re out, I will. I don’t want to have to repeat myself.” You nod at the other two. “What’s going on in there?”

“I think it’s jabberjays.” Johanna says, pointing up at the trees behind the wall. “They’re fifty of them in the trees. Katniss tried killing them, of course it didn’t work.”

Your eyes land on Finnick, finding his muscles rigid. You crouch to get a better look at his face, there’s a streak of red from his nose, down his lips, and off his chin. “What happened to Finnick?”

“He ran face-first into the wall.” Peeta says. “It was a bloody nose.”

You hum, lowering yourself to the ground. “Hopefully it won’t be much longer.”

—

The wall suddenly breaks, Peeta falling forward. He catches himself on his hands, getting to his feet. He doesn’t even say anything, just scoops Katniss into his arms, and walks straight out of the jungle with her, leaving the arrows behind.

You sit up, looking over at Johanna to see that she’s staring at you. She tilts her head, “Do you want to try?”

You take in a breath, “I’ll let you know if it works.”

She nods, following after Katniss and Peeta, because someone needs to be watching over them. You get up, walking a few feet over to Finnick, before crouching down beside him. 

You lift a hand, hovering it over his back for a minute, and then change your mind, placing your elbows on your thighs to lean on them. He’s got his eyes closed, head down. He probably can’t even hear you. You don’t even know how he’ll react to being touched, much less by you.

You press your lips together, heart hurting at the sight of him. It’d be better if Johanna were here, she can talk to him. All you’ll do is upset him more. You grind your teeth, once again wishing that this wasn’t your relationship. As you go to stand up, the hands over his ears loosen, head beginning to lift.

He looks around in the jungle first, making sure the threat is gone. That’s when he notices you beside him, waiting. His eyes are watery, he swallows.

“Hey,” You murmur, “Are you okay?”

He stares at you, eyebrows drawing in.

You nod, “I’ll go get Johanna.”

Once again, you try to get to your feet, when he speaks, “Why?”

“Why… what?” You ask, pausing.

“Why would you get Johanna?” He asks.

You turn your head in the direction of the beach. Is he really going to make you say it? Does he want to see the pain it’ll cause you? Or does he think it’ll come out venomous?

When you look at him, you sigh, “Because I’m not really a comforting person to you, am I?”

He doesn’t answer your question, “Where are they?”

“They’re on the beach.” You tell him. “I figured out a plan that’ll work. I’ll tell you guys when you’re ready.”

“Do Johanna and Peeta know?” He asks.

You shake your head, “No.”

Neither of you move, staring at each other. And while you could stay here forever, you don’t allow yourself. You push on your knees, standing up. You offer your hand to him, but he moves it away, just like you figured he would.

He doesn’t say anything, walking past you to leave. You stare at the scene of dead birds in front of you, before you turn around, collecting yours and Johanna’s belongings, and going to join them on the beach. 

Katniss seems better, she’s talking to Peeta. Johanna is standing over them, she glances at Finnick when he passes by. She has to twist her body to see you standing in the treeline. You hand her the axe.

“It was a trick, Katniss. A horrible one. But we’re the only ones who can be hurt by it. We’re the ones in the Games. Not them.” Peeta says.

“You really believe that?” Katniss asks.

“I really do.” 

“Do you believe it, Finnick?” 

“It could be true. I don’t know.” He says, looking up at Johanna, ignoring you entirely. “Could they do that? Take someone’s regular voice and make it…”

Johanna makes a face, looking at you for help. You play with the piece of wire you’d unraveled, “I’m sure Beetee would know.”

“Peeta’s right.” Johanna then says. “The whole country adores Katniss’s little sister. If they really killed her like this, they’d probably have an uprising on her hands.” She deadpans. “Don’t want that, do they?” She scoffs, throwing her head back to shout, “Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn’t want anything like that!”

She shakes her head, wandering around the beach to pick up shells. When she finds a good few, she stops next to Finnick, holding her hand out. “I’m getting water.” Finnick drops the spile into her hand, and she begins toward the jungle.

Katniss grabs her hand. “Don’t go in there. The birds—”

“They can’t hurt me. I’m not like the rest of you. There’s no one left I love.” She says, shaking her hand free. You don’t miss the look she gives Finnick, and then you, as she disappears into the jungle. 

She comes back a couple minutes later with a shell of water, handing it over to Katniss first. She makes trips back and forth, letting each of you have some. She comes out one trip with a pile of arrows that she gives back to Katniss.

Finnick shakes his head, walking to the water. He stops a few feet in, and sits. You let the wire drop to the sand, tired of bringing it wherever you go. You don’t move from where you are, eyes fixated on his back.

“Who did they use against Finnick?” Peeta asks, curious.

Katniss is quiet. You’re expecting her to say Annie, because it makes the most sense, but when you look over, she’s eyeing you, and so is Peeta. 

“What?” You ask. “Was it Annie?”

“No, it wasn’t.” Katniss murmurs. “We thought we heard you.”

A loud laugh comes from you, unwarranted. The thought of Finnick caring about you enough for the Gamemakers to use you against him is funny. Really funny, actually. It must’ve been a walk in the park for him, listening to your pleas. A little gratifying, because he could pretend that you were getting what was coming for you.

But Katniss isn’t laughing, she’s serious. 

The humor leaves your smile, “It must’ve been his mother, that he was mistaken for me.”

“No, because we heard his mom, too. That first scream was yours.” She insists, “And he dropped everything to find you.”

“Finnick would never do that.” You tell her, voice cold. 

She doesn’t press it further, but the look in her eye is enough. She’s not lying to you, she’s telling the truth. She doesn’t gain anything from making something like that up.

You won’t believe it though. This is the same Finnick that told Johanna that he didn’t trust you, an hour and a half ago. There’s nothing that could’ve made him change his feelings in that time span.

Unless it didn’t.

Your eyes narrow at the back of Finnick’s head, hand tightening around your sword. 

A cannon blast keeps you from thinking about the subject any further, but the bubbling in your stomach is only getting hotter. Finnick gets up, coming to join you three, as well as Johanna, materializing out of the jungle. You stand together, watching a hovercraft appear over the next section, claw dipping in several times to retrieve all the pieces of one body. 

The beast.

This sparks Peeta to create another map, this time he’s able to fill in more than half of it. It starts with lightning, rain, and fog. It moves on to monkeys and jabberjays. He has to skip a section, and then writes beast. And the next one you have after six to seven is the wave at ten. This means you’re missing five of the other hours. 

The others begin to come back to life. Finnick begins to weave a water basket and a net to fish for dinner. While Katniss takes a swim and applies more ointment. By the time she’s done, Finnick has worked up a pile, so she sits on the edge of the water, cleaning them for him. 

It doesn’t take long for Katniss’s words to creep back into your mind, refusing to leave it be. Finnick cares about you, a thought that should have you excited, but it makes you uncomfortable. He has spent the last eight years making sure that you know that he hates you and couldn’t care less about what happens to you.

Yet here he is, supposedly dropping everything to save you. Possibly even leaving Katniss behind to do it. The Gamemakers must know something that you don’t, if they knew to use your voice. You want to assume that they thought Finnick was worried solely because you’re his district partner. Except, that doesn’t make sense either, because the two of you are notorious in the Capitol for being a pair of mentors that get into fights about how to handle things.

He has a lot of nerve.

The sun falls below the horizon, the moon rising to replace it in the sky. When they finish cleaning the fish, they bring it over, setting it in the middle of the circle for you to enjoy. The four of them begin to settle in the sand, you don’t move from where you stand.

The anthem begins to play, stopping them from digging in. The Capitol seal lights up the sky, and then it’s replaced by the faces. Cashmere, Gloss, Wiress, Beetee. The woman from Five, the morphling from Six, Blight, and the man from Ten. 

Eight tributes dead.

Strangely, this makes you think of your own Hunger Games. Where you managed to kill four people in the span of two hours, one of those being Rio, who was your district partner. By the end of the Games, you had eight kills under your belt. A third of the competition was taken out by you, a little fifteen year-old.

Once again, a factor that used to make Finnick sick. And now it doesn’t.

“They’re really burning through us.” Johanna says.

“Who’s left? Besides us five and District Two?” Finnick asks.

“Chaff.” Peeta says without missing a beat.

The sound of clinking fills the air, you look up to find a parachute coming down, teetering from side to side. It lands perfectly in the middle of the group, unfolding itself to reveal the steaming rolls.

“Do these look like District Three to you?” Finnick looks at Johanna.

“Yeah, look at the imprint.” She says, running her finger over the top of one. “How many are there?”

Finnick counts them, being sure to be thorough. “Twenty-four. How should we divide them?”

“Let’s each have three, and whoever is still alive at breakfast can take a vote on the rest.” Johanna says, causing Katniss to laugh.

You pull your sword out of the sand, swinging it up to rest the flat part of the blade on your shoulder. Finnick looks up at you, eyeing your stance. You step away from them, shaking your head.

“Sit down, (Y/n).” Finnick tells you.

“Why, so you can keep an eye on me?” You snap, crossing the treeline. “Come and get me, Finnick.”

You make it a few feet in, before you hear the snapping of branches behind you. You sigh, turning with raised eyebrows to see that Finnick took it as a challenge. You didn’t mean it that way. You didn’t want him to chase you.

“Get out here.” He tells you.

You walk backward, tilting your head at him. “I’m just making sure Enobaria and Brutus aren’t out here.”

“I don’t care.” He’s still walking toward you. “We’ll worry about that when we make camp.”

You stop, letting your sword down from your shoulder. When you look past him, you can see that there’s enough distance between him and the beach. There’s privacy to talk and sort out what you heard.

Your eyes land on him, “Katniss told me something,” You start, watching his eyebrows twitch, “About how you thought I was the one screaming for help.”

Finnick shakes his head, “I thought it was my mom.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said too.” You tell him, “But you said my name, and you dropped everything to go and get me.”

He sets his jaw, “So?”

“So,” The word is bitter, “What changed?”

He laughs, “Nothing, (Y/n). I went—”

“They used loved ones and family.” You cut him off. “You care about me, admit it.”

“I don’t.” He tells you. “I never have, and I never will.”

“You chased after the jabberjays thinking it was me, and you followed me in here because you’re worried that I’ll get caught by the Careers, admit it.”

“I don’t know what you think is happening, but whatever it is, it’s not true.” His voice wavers.

This is all the confirmation you need. “You want to know what I’m thinking right now?” You press your pointer finger to the middle of his chest. “That you’re not bothered by me anymore, and you haven’t been for a while. You’ve done a damn good job of hiding it up until now, but the jabberjays got you good.”

Finnick grabs your wrist, “That’s not true.”

“What changed, Finnick?” You insist.

“Nothing, because I don’t have feelings for you.” He snaps. “The reason why I came in here is because we want to move camp to the ten sector once the wave happens, I just didn’t want you to get lost out here and think we abandoned you, making you think it’s a free-for-all.”

He lets go of your wrist, face screwed tightly, as he leaves you here. You watch him go back to the beach, while you take several breaths, feeling the pit in your stomach grow.

What have you done?

---

this is part of my 3k celebration!!

[onesidedradiostatic]

Obviously Angel’s time with the Vees was terrible but I gotta wonder, knowing what kind of disasters they are, did he ever bear witness to embarrassing moments that the Vees would DIE from if knowledge of it ever got out?

Did Vox ever attempt to create a shitty music AI with his own voice that churned out the most garbage songs Hell would ever hear, especially the country ones, that Angel would be asked to dance in the music videos for? Eventually the crew convinced Vox that the music was too shit to release to the public and now the audio files are locked away no one has access to (Angel has access though. He always finds a way).

And did Velvette and Valentino ever get into arguments about Val misusing slang words in his scripts and one day Angel had to wait over an hour, tied to a bed in black dress waiting for them to stop debating about the appropriate usage of the word “YEET”? Needless to say he eventually opted to just take a nap. He was already hogtied to the bed anyway.

But also, did Angel and the crew ever have to witness Vox and Val airing their sexual frustrations with each other? I’m just imagining the poor crew bearing witness to the saddest display of a sexual tension-fueled argument that always ends with them dropping the most pathetic clap backs and disses at each other and one of them storming out like it’s a really shitty soap opera.

Meanwhile Angel is wondering if maybe he should just suggest the two of them just hook up and maybe they’ll both calm the fuck down.

But then they do hook up and they still don’t calm the fuck down.

Unfortunately for Angel he now knows way too much about the intricacies of Vox’s…anatomy from Val and whenever he has to hear about it he thinks, “Can you just get me high right now? I do not wanna be sober during this, please.” Also he comes to the conclusion that Vox is terrible in bed and Valentino has shit taste.

But then Vox begins bragging in uncomfortably hilarious and pathetic detail about the “sexy” things he and Val do to the point where not only does the crew question if this counts as sexual harassment, but Angel starts contemplating if HE needs to fuck Vox to get him to calm the fuck down because apparently Val is ALSO terrible in bed when with a consenting partner, and this loser is NOT gonna learn what good sex is otherwise.

This started out as a speculation in the dumb things Angel witnessed with the Vees and it just snowballed into Angel suffering through StaticMoth’s absurd bullshit because they’re both the fucking worst.

WHAT IS THIS HELP. I mean he did live in the v tower for a while he probably has seen a good chunk of shit. tbf there is a chance he was just high a lot of the time when it came to the vees' bullshit but this is funny

[ghostlykeyes]

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HEARTSTEEL KAYN: HEADCANONS ♡ TW : Drug mentions/Usage ♡ TW: Food mentions ♡ No pairings/ not reader-insert

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

KAYN 

Ever since joining Heartsteel, Kayn's 'Rhaast' outbursts have lessened in frequency and severity. Of course, his alter-ego makes regular appearances, but being with a group that encourages and accepts him rather than holds him back and tries to get him under control has made it so that Kayn feels less need to express his feelings in such an explosive, reckless way. Of course, he'll never admit that his newfound friends are the reason for his recent (very, VERY slight) stability.

Kayn is extremely choosy with his jewelry. He fronts like he doesn't want to wear "cheap, lame shit"—but actually, he just reacts to most metals. If he doesn't check to make sure his earrings are hypoallergenic, he ends up with a massive rash. Why the excuse? He is NOT about to admit he has sensitive skin.

Probably not a surprise, but Kayn breaks his phone CONSTANTLY. With all his reckless antics, it's rare for a new phone to last him more than a few months. The silver lining is that he at least has his emergency contacts (the Heartsteel members, of course) memorized from entering them into his contacts list so often.

Kayn also has a burner phone he uses for Rhaast.

Maybe you'd expect Kayn to have an enormous rager for his birthday, but the truth is, he doesn't actually like that many people. Instead he invites a handful of his actual friends to the shared Heartsteel apartment for a joint Halloween/birthday party. Costumes mandatory, noise complaints expected. Kayn will tell you to your face if he thinks your costume is stupid.

Kayn's got a lucky guitar pick. Somehow, he’s never lost it.

Wherever Kayn goes, property damage often follows. For Heartsteel's sake, he's cleaned up his act a tiny bit, mostly because he's scared of respects Yone, who gets pissed whenever Kayn breaks too much shit. But come on, you can't deny a man all of life's simple pleasures—you gotta let him graffiti the side of a water tower every once in awhile, or blow up the occasional car.

Notorious for social media rampages, Kayn's been banned from using the Heartsteel twitter. (The last straw was him using the account to threaten a member of his old band. Apparently, Alune didn't think "I'LL FUKKIN DOXX U LOL" an appropriate use of the official twitter account.) He's still semi-active on his personal accounts, but only in sporadic bursts.

Kayn knows how to tie a knot in a cherry stem with his tongue.

Like most rockstars, Kayn dabbles in cocaine. His drug use is pretty limited, though, mostly because he doesn't really need drugs to be high-energy and unhinged. When clips of his erratic behavior surface or Kayn goes on a twitter rampage, newer fans often speculate about Kayn being on drugs. Veteran Heartbeats know that he’s just Like That, though. 

Kayn says he doesn't have a favorite bandmate. (He does. It's Ezreal.)

A lot of the time, Kayn has to be reminded to eat. When he's busy writing songs or hanging out with the band, stopping for a bite never crosses his mind. Thankfully, Sett's on top of his meal schedule (gotta hit those macros!) so he'll remind Kayn that lunch is a Thing That Exists.

Kayn spends a ridiculous amount of time on his nails. Cuticles? Trimmed. Polish? Immaculate, and always black or burgundy. Topcoat? Applied and glass-smooth. Of course he'll deny that his nail routine is so precise because it doesn't fit his devil-may-care image, but come on. Chipped OPI and hangnails? Couldn't be him.

Kayn hates nothing more than the passenger seat. Let him drive! Yes, he knows that he's gotten two speeding tickets in the past three months. Yes, he's completely aware that K'sante got violently carsick the last time Kayn drove everyone to Taco Bell. He does not care. He will NEVER care. Driving is fun and driving recklessly is really fun.

You won't catch Kayn in a salon. He dyes and cuts his own hair in his bathroom. (How is it still so perfect?!)

Kayn is way too eager to help Aphelios pull pranks on people. Unfortunately, he can dish it out, but he can't take it. A prank on Kayn has a 50/50 chance of putting him in a sour, bitchy mood for the next hour.

Of all the band members, Kayn's the one that spends the most time alone. He doesn't have many friends outside Heartsteel. And, even though he knows his band has his back and he appreciates them, he needs frequent social breaks.

Kayn's the ultimate night owl. It's rare for him to go to bed before 4 AM. Despite this, he's always up before ten. Maybe it's Yone's rigorous recording schedule that gets him up. Maybe he's so high-energy, his body can't stand staying still for more than six hours. Maybe, though, it's just all the Monster energy drinks.

Consider it a sign that he likes you if Kayn spam-texts you. If he doesn't, he won't even bother responding. (But, if he suddenly stops texting you out of the blue? Don't worry. He probably broke his phone. Again.)

[holyprincenerd]

A Few Thoughts Regarding Why the ESC Jury is SO Dysfunctional

I’m going to cut right to the chase: The judgement criteria for the jury make literally no sense once you stop and think about them. They quite literally cause trolley problem after trolley problem. As a reminder, these are the criteria the jury was supposed to use to judge the performances this year:

composition and originality of the song,

quality of the performance on stage,

vocal capacity of the performer(s),

overall impression of the act.

Let’s start simple - vocal capacity of the performer(s):

As everyone’s aware, this year, we had many talented vocalists participating in the competition: A few examples are Sweden, Norway, France, Cyprus, Spain, Estonia, Albania and Portugal. They all came swinging with their vocalists. Notice something funny about this list of countries?

It’s based entirely upon the assumption that the ability to belt or the usage of one’s head voice is what defines someone’s vocal capacity. Here’s why this is a problem: Assuming that belting as an example is the peak performance of singing means to ignore other, arguably harder and more demanding techniques that are more unconventional sounding to the mainstream ear. A hilariously good example of this would be growling. It require a lot, and I mean a lot of technical prowess and control over your voice, and is thus arguably harder than say belting, as an example. Seriously. Try to growl. Right now. I bet most of you have noticed that you literally can’t growl without sounding hilariously pathetic. If you did manage to let out a decent growl, now try to sing while growling. Pick any song you like, and go for it. Pretty hard, right? And guess what! We had someone doing that this year, and being phenomenal at it.

Too bad they came last in the competition.

That’s right, if we’re going to start judging vocal abilities here, arguably the most vocally capable singer was Chris Harms. There are multiple parts in Blood and Glitter where he uses the growling technique. Not only that, but du-du-dum! He also belts during the song, and does so wonderfully. So, based on this, clearly, he was the most vocally talented artist out of the bunch, right? (Obviously, I am 100% simplifying things here, but bear with me for a bit.) He does everything that the previously mentioned group did, and more. Arguably we could also say that alongside him Alessandra is carrying the torch of the most vocally capable performer, as she does have that one whistle tone in her song (if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, don’t worry, we’ll get to that later).

However, this gets even more complicated than singing techniques, how hard they are to master, and how many of them you use in your song.

You see, we can’t really judge someone’s vocal capacity and compare them with the other contestants, when many of these artists were performing songs in different genres. Here are some of the genres represented during the Eurovision finale of 2023:

Metal

Industrial metal

Progressive metal

Rock

Alternative rock

Progressive rock

Pop rock

Pop

Dance-pop

House-pop

Latin-pop

Hyperpop

Chanson

Flamenco

Disco-house

Electronic

R&B

Rap

Schlager

Tractor (lol)

With this many genres, different singing techniques are more appropriate for some songs than others. So this is no longer even a question about comparing each contestant’s vocal abilities with one another (which is a problem, since you know, this is a competition), but rather who performs well within their own genre. Suddenly, we can add almost every contestant to the list of competent vocal performances. For those of you who are wondering, yes, even Käärijä came through with his vocal performance, especially in the first half of the song.

While we’re on the topic of Käärijä (and we won’t leave him for a bit), how are the juries supposed to judge the vocals of rap performances that are more heavily reliant on the enunciation of words than the vocals themselves, if the song’s not in English? Part of the reason Cha Cha Cha works so well is because of the way Käärijä raps certain lines or even words. How is any other jury, except the Finnish one, (who’re not allowed to vote for him,) supposed to catch something like how good the ”Ja mä jatkan kunnes en enää pysy tuolissa niinku” part sounds to a Finnish ear? Specifically the words kunnes, en and enää, are doing a lot of heavy lifting in that one singular line due to the rhythm and enunciation. Can a jury member who doesn’t understand Finnish catch onto the way he allows the first two words to almost melt into each other while pronouncing the last word ridiculously fast to create a very specific rhythm? I’m sure some jury members would notice that, but it’s just as likely to go completely unnoticed unless you’re familiar with the language.

Next, composition and originality of the song:

Again, we have a clear victor here: Cha Cha Cha is by far the most ”original” out of these songs (despite the Electric Cowboy plagiarism accusations, and it’s all thanks to the fact that the song does a genre based one-eighty by the end). I mean, hello? Blending industrial metal, rap, hyperpop and Finnish schlager? This is such a strange combination of genres, it becomes its own entity. And somehow it works. Personally, I’d say this is at least in part due to the melodic hook that repeats literally throughout the song. Those beeps and boops you hear after the first line of the song? They keep repeating themselves, in the chorus in the ”Cha, cha cha, cha cha cha cha” portion, and in the schlager part of the song, though there, the melody is cut in half and only the last three keys are present in the ”Niinku cha cha cha” parts and in the lines that end with an ”aa-aa-haa.” (So, ”Niinku cha cha cha, enkä pelkääkään tätä maailmaa-aa-haa” etc.) Obviously, we get to hear the melody in its entirety once again in the final cha chas. Brilliant! Douze point. Sometimes less is more, and I can’t believe I am saying that about fucking Cha Cha Cha but here we are. Simplicity is king.

Now, on the other hand, we could say that most of the pop entries are not original in the slightest. We could argue that there is literally nothing original about repeating the same pop formula and the same chord progressions which can be found in most pop songs. This is why Tattoo, Solo, Unicorn, I Wrote a Song, Break a Broken Heart, etc, are getting compared to other pop songs and accused of plagiarism: Pop music just is that generic in its building blocks. It’s also why we could argue that they’re not particularly noteworthy in their compositions.

And while we’re still on the topic of originality, songs that are tied to a specific genre are practically screwed. No one’s going to reinvent genres like cha-cha-chá, waltz or mambo here, unless they step away from what identifies these genres, the rhythm. If the rhythm isn’t there, it’s not a cha-cha-chá, waltz or mambo song. You wanna blend salsa and reggaeton? Too bad, salsaton is already a thing! Should everyone start doing what Käärijä and his team did, and mix a minimum of four genres with a somewhat unusual structure in order to be ”original”? What even is originality in the context of composition, really? There are only so many chords and chord progressions to use, there’s practically no way to actually be original, which is also why the topic of plagiarism is so fucking complicated when it comes to music in specific.

Anyway, let’s move on to the quality of the performance on stage:

To avoid making a lengthy repetition of the previous point, let’s keep this short: Depending on the genre of the song, a certain type of performance is going to be more appropriate than another. Imagine Alika having a performance like Let 3, or Teya and Salena performing like La Zarra. What’s that? It’s the taste of good ol’ thematic and tonal dissonance. Each song is elevated by a performance that matches that song in specific, and the artists can either perform well or fuck up. Again, this becomes a trolley problem, where the juries have to ask themselves: ”Do we value a performance like Joker Out’s above a performance like Luke Black’s?” When both perform well, it’s hard to compare them because they’re playing in two completely different ballparks.

Finally, the overall impression of the act:

Literally what the fuck does that even mean? This is actually just a preference question. Unless someone fucks up tremendously, everyone should be getting points for this. And that’s the core issue here. Because we’re dealing with such a large variety of different artists, different genres, different languages, it becomes impossible to judge them fairly against each other. Do we value belting above growling? Trolley problem. Do we value pop above metal or rock? Trolley problem. You get the point.

”Okay, but obviously the juries are basing their votes upon objectivity and looking at the whole package,” someone might say, and if they do, they’ve missed the point: There is no objectivity here, and because of that, there is no comparing whole packages either. Literally the only way to be objective about this is if everyone has an identical performance; same song, same staging, same camerawork, same choreography. And that’s not the point of the ESC. We’re supposed to be celebrating our individual cultures and our differences. Variety is quite literally required for this contest to work the way it’s intended to. At the end of the day, music is art, and art can be many things. You can’t argue that EAEA is more artistic than Mama ŚČ! (or vice versa) without opening a philosophical can of worms that is way too big for this silly competition. You can’t say Tattoo is objectively better than Cha Cha Cha (or vice versa), because, again, the songs shine in different criteria and are playing in two completely different ballparks. As a matter of fact, their ballparks exist on completely different planets. There are too many variables at play here for anyone to logically be able to be objective. And that’s when this becomes a question of voting based on opinion and personal taste (you know, if the concept of jury darlings hasn’t made this obvious enough). And personal taste is what the audience is supposed to base their votes upon.

Oh, and before I forget to touch upon that, Alessandra: According to some tabloids, her vocals were struggling during the jury show, and that’s why she in specific didn’t receive as many points from the jury as she probably should and could have otherwise. And that’s ridiculously unfair. Why should the jury and the audience base their judgements of an act on two completely different performances? As Käärijä has said in many interviews, each performance is unique and its own entity. Shit happens. Sometimes your vocals are struggling, other times a wire tries to murder you, etcetera. It’s actually bizarre that we don’t give our votes based on the same performance.

So yeah, shitty system, does not work, 0/10. Zéro point in French.

[leroibobo]

cao'an (thatched hermitage) and its manichaean remnants in jinjiang, fujian, china. though cao'an is on its surface not too different from other buddist temples, it was also manichaean, and may still be manichaean in secret. it's also one of the last standing historical manichaean places of worship in the world. this place has quite the history, so i placed it under a read more:

manichaeism is a former world religion of babylonian origin, reaching as far west as the roman empire and as far east as han china at its greatest extent. it combines elements of several other prominent religions and philosophies - the most notable factor of this is that it reveres founder mani as the final prophet in a line consisting of zoroaster, the gautama buddha, and jesus christ. it went mostly extinct due to persecution of followers throughout its multi-continent laity. manichaean places of worship were either entirely destroyed or appropriated in other parts of the world. it lasted much longer in china (until ming dynasty times) and still exists in some parts of fujian and zhejiang. these believers prefer to remain private about their current practice. what outsiders know about the religion is solely through historical records; because of its comparative longevity in china, many of those records come from there.

manichaeans tended to draw more from the religious/philosophical influences on manichaeism that were most familiar to them. (for example, while manichaeism in jerusalem may have looked more abrahamic, manichaeism in istakhr may have looked more zoroastrian.) in china, manichaeism assimilated to both buddhism and taoism; in the former case, much of it was adapted to be stylistically buddhist, and mani received the title of "buddha of light" and a life story resembling the gautama buddha's.

cao'an was constructed during the song dynasty era (specifically in the 960s), when persecution against manichaeans had been ongoing from emperor wuzong of tang's suppression of all foreign religions. (the same policies had affected zoroastrians, eastern syriac christians, and buddhists, but continued for manichaeans after.) at this time, many manichaean temples had buddhist or taoist affiliations, or disguised themselves as buddhist or taoist only. it became officially buddhist after manichaeism was banned in 1368. since abandoned, it was revived for explicit buddhist usage for a short period in the early 20th century. it's preserved as a cultural monument today.

cao'an has managed to preserve remnants of its manichaean affiliations. one is that, instead of a nianfo phrase usually seen in chinese buddhist temples, an inscription on a nearby stone dating to the 15th century reminded worshippers of "purity, light, power, and wisdom". this mantra is an adaption of manichaean cosmology in chinese manichaeism. the original stone was destroyed during the cultural revolution but the phrase was re-inscribed on another after. another is a statue that seems to portray the buddha, but is thought to actually portray mani. unlike other portrayals of the buddha, this one has long, straight hair which is worn down, different facial features and hand/head postures, and, at one point, facial hair. (this was filed off in the early 20th century by a buddhist monk to make him look more like the buddha.) it's also consistent with other portrayals of mani in chinese manichaean art.

[rabbityshen]

actually nuanced and complicated "slurs discourse" at least in the context of american-oriented english language primarily applies to two broad demographic groups (black people and lgbtq people). maybe three if we're also discussing words like bitch/cunt (a kind of complicated topic on its own).

that's not to say there arent other marginalized groups who also reclaim slurs, but they tend to be more constrained to more private, non-mainstream/underground in-group contexts because outside of those, it's almost always straightforward derogatory usage.

something to note about even more popular and complex slurs discourse is that it really only arises because these words have entered the mainstream cultural discourse where they're perceived and interacted with by many members of the more privileged out-group. (see: rap songs, "queer studies," etc.) thereby necessitating some meta discourse on appropriate usage and contexts. it also tends to apply to very specific, certain words in certain contexts. there's a reason why many people are often comfortable with saying queer, but less comfortable with saying homo, or the more specific identity slurs (f slur, d slur, t slur, etc), even if they are also a part of that targeted identity group.

this is all to say nuanced, community-oriented usage of slurs in highly public spaces is very much the exception and not the norm, even by people who are affected by these slurs.

like i dont go around calling myself chink. that would be bizarre and off-putting, even if i was proudly doing so in a self identification way. there's not the same history of community building around it, whether political or cultural.

lastly, slurs are some of the most vibes check language to exist, because they're so socially charged by their usage and history. it's baked into the whole concept. and i just cant take seriously the idea that that many people don't sense how extremely different the vibes are around different slurs; that they're actually being quite disingenuous and, at best, lying to themselves about "reclaiming slurs."

edit: also forgot to mention that even for more "popularized" slurs, context matters. like.....non-queer ppl saying lgbtq slurs w/ non-derogatory intention and tone is something i think is much easier to swallow in certain contexts, than anyone non-black saying anti-black slurs. this is very obvious. again, "reclaiming slurs" is more a general idea to describe specific linguistic phenomena, not the other way around where ppl just can say whatever and hide behind the vague concept of reclamation.

[vocaloidsongpoll]

this blog is for seeing how well-known certain vocaloid songs are! but mostly, it's just for fun :)

song submissions are open!!! if you submit a song, you'll be tagged in the post, but you can submit anonymously if you want!

there's no limit to how many songs you can submit and there's no right or wrong way to submit a song! with that said, i do appreciate direct links to videos and any triggers to look out for in the videos so i can tag them appropriately, but these aren't required for submissions!

at the moment, i'm not looking for any particular vocalists to be submitted, so just submit whatever song(s) you would like to see posted!

polls are posted about 5 times every day now, so if you don't see your submission right away, it's still in the queue!

as of april 16th, there are about 90 songs in the queue (18 days worth of songs), so please be patient if you don't see your submitted song right away! much appreciated!! <3

WARNING!!! my blog has videos with flashing imagery. please take care in browsing! the tags i currently use are:

for general flashing imagery: flashing lights, flashing

for imagery with highly saturated colors: eyestrain

for imagery with glitching effects: glitch

for imagery with shaking effects: shaking images

the tags i use for other sensitive content are:

for suicidal ideation/self harm: suicide, suicidal ideation, suicide mention, self harm, self harm mention

for disturbing content: unsettling, disturbing

my blog also tags for: graphic violence, sexual assault, cannibalism, necrophilism, abuse, child abuse, child death, animal violence, screeching sound, loud noise, drug usage, gender dysphoria

please let me know if i forget to tag something appropriately! i want everyone to have a safe listening experience here!

we now also have a youtube playlist featuring all of the songs posted here!

general content warnings: flashing images, mild nsfw content, themes of self-harm or suicide, and more. basically if you can think of a triggering topic, chances are it is (or eventually will be) on this playlist, so just be aware of that going into it <3

we now also have two spotify playlists!

this first one is for songs that i could find exact matches for. there should only be original vocaloid songs in there, but this does mean that it's missing a good chunk of songs.

this second one is identical to the first one, except i put in the closest match to the missing vocaloid songs that i could find. for instance, since i couldn't find an exact match of "game of life" sung by hatsune miku, i put in a cover sung by sick2. the first playlist doesn't have "game of life" at all, unfortunately, because as far as i can tell it's not on spotify.

unfortunately both playlists are missing 60+ songs because they're either exclusive to youtube or i wasn't able to find it on spotify. if you see a song is missing on there that you know is on spotify, please let me know so i can add it to the playlists!

thanks for the support, y'all! <3

[mizgrownnonsense]

I have no children yet, but here’s what I’m thinking about kids and media:

0-5ish: No media, unless it’s together or a trusted adult is helping them pick and keeping an eye on duration. Maybe they have a little mp3 player for their favorite songs (music should be a human right)

Justification: I’ve watched so many toddlers fall down unboxing video rabbit holes on YouTube and it freaks me OUT. I want media to be part of our shared family culture, not a way to check out and go numb. I’m aware that this is a lot more work, and plan to put that work in.

5ish-8ish: There is now an iPad, with some age-appropriate streaming services for movies and shows and some (offline, obv) games Maybe some pre-downloaded favourites and home movies, too. No YouTube at all. The iPad does not have a passcode or time lock, so it isn’t a scarce resource, but we keep an eye on usage and encourage alternatives if they start zombie-ing.

Justification: At 5, kiddo should be able to practice regulating their own attention span and explore media choices more autonomously—within certain parameters. The kid-eating YouTube algorithm is still hard-banned, and there are no messaging/social media/online gaming options. This is about them exploring media independently from us, but not using technology as a conduit to other people just yet.

8-12ish: kiddo gets a phone for direct messaging/calling with friends and family ONLY. The older and dumber the phone the better. Some closed-circle social medias (like Marco Polo) ok. This phone will be checked by parents periodically (sorry) but always with advanced notice and a conversation about what we might be looking for and why.

Justification: This is a good age for texts from grandma/cousins and the ability for them to explore the world and be able to text/call back for help. Obviously, they’ll want to send goofy messages to their friends, too, and that’s great. However, I don’t want them to develop an “audience” yet, so social media is out, and I still want to keep an eye out on how people interact with them, working together to recognise and set boundaries around this kind of communication. Checking their phone is mainly to enforce which apps they use, since they’ll be encountering more social pressure to join social media (and defy rules) around that age. I won’t read my kid’s messages unless I have a concern about their or one of their contacts’ behavior, and if it comes to that, looking at their messages is something I’ll do WITH THEM. We’ll have a conversation about my concerns, what I’m looking for, and what to do about it together.

10-12ish: Some multiplayer games okay, but with oversight around who they interact with and guidance about how to navigate uncomfortable interactions. YouTube is finally available, but with conversation about the ideas they encounter there. I won’t like this, but I can’t keep them off Minecraft forever.

13 ish-17ish: Parental controls off their tech, and a baseline of phone autonomy: no check-ins unless something seems seriously wrong; all check-ins with conversation. Encourage kiddo to manage screentime within other responsibilities and goals, check in if screens become a numbing reflex. Only big rule: MAINTAIN ANONYMITY (no real name, selfies/ vlogging, or identifying details) in any open-form social media. Advise them to be aware of social media that gives them a sense of an “audience” and council them to set boundaries with how they interact with that idea (ie: you don’t owe strangers interactions or energy, you are allowed to make mistakes, you are allowed to change your mind, grow, and change. You do not need to have an opinion on everything, especially if you haven’t had time to think it over, and you can/should block anyone who makes you feel unsafe). Here, I’ll also inform them about para-social relationships and how to navigate those.

Justification: god, I wish the adults in my life at that age told me the same. I cannot tell you how I wince when my full name still pulls up deviant art posts from my teen years on google searches. I have become so much kinder to myself since I let go the idea that I owe a vague internet audience my take on every new thing. Even if the internet wasn’t full of people who could exploit your personal information to harm you (for whatever reason), it does you no service whatsoever to put your most vulnerable developmental years under a public spotlight.

18: Full technology autonomy. Hopefully I’ve prepared kiddo to navigate it well, and left the door open to come to me if they ever need more help/guidance. Good luck, kiddo.

Posting for peer review: what do y’all think?

[rwby-redux]

What other swears/expressions are there in the Redux, apart from Maiden's tits?

The full list is still under development, but here are a few of my favorites.

Not properly attired. It means, “You’re needlessly wasting something when you already have alternative means to get it done.” This idiom started out as a way to chastise/scold someone when they wasted their Aura on staving off the weather, as opposed to dressing appropriately. Aura is, after all, a finite resource. Why use it for thermoregulation when you could just, y’know, wear layers, and save your Aura for something more important. Unsurprisingly, this expression comes from Solitas.

Don’t tether yourself to that anchor. Basically, “Don’t commit to that person/cause, or it’ll take you down with it.” Although this idiom originated in Western Vale, it’s now heard in pretty much all of the major coastal/port cities.

The ass-end of a Taijutu. Something that doesn’t exist. It’s considered fairly rude (the obvious swear notwithstanding), as are most idioms that invoke Grimm by name. Though to be fair, it also depends on the perspective of the speaker. People from Vale (or at least, those who tend to be more superstitious) typically don’t refer to Grimm by their names, but rather by kennings.

On the road to Mantle. “Gradually becoming irrelevant/obsolete.” Although Mantle is still a robust, densely-populated city, it’s typically looked down upon (both figuratively and literally) by those from the City of Atlas. This expression came about shortly after Mantle lost its status as the capital, and was reinforced by the self-proclaimed “old families” of the kingdom. It has a narrow range of usage and isn’t typically heard outside of Solitas and Northern Anima. Saying this to someone who’s actually from Mantle is a good way to get decked in the face.

Make a Gigas out of a Geist. This is more or less the equivalent of “Making a mountain out of a molehill.” It’s based on the idea of a Geist in its “default” state being considerably less of a threat than its Gigas forms (Arma, Petra, Cryo, etc).

Kicking up the silt. A person that’s kicking up the silt is someone who’s being unhelpful. This idiom comes from the various piscatorial cultures that sprung up around Lake Matsu and the Lonmet River. Water that’s cloudy with debris is bad for fishing, so it stands to reason that a person who creates those conditions is making it harder for all parties involved.

Salt to ash. “Beginning to end,” or “Start to finish.” In traditional Mistrali culture, when children reach one year of age, they’re taken to the seaside by their family and undergo a religious rite similar to a baptism (or the ritual drowning performed in A Song of Ice and Fire). When a person dies, their remains are cremated and scattered from an (ideally) high, windy vantage point. Among the people of Mistral, it’s said that their lives begin with salt, and end with ash.

King’s blessing. If someone offers to perform a king’s blessing on you, they’re offering to unlock your Aura. This term is specific to Western Vale, and goes back several centuries. In the days of the Valin monarchy, the crown was charged with not only defending its people, but arming them with the means to protect themselves. If a citizen of the kingdom wanted, they could request an audience with the monarch, and ask to be blessed with the “armor of god.” It was the crown’s responsibility to fulfill this obligation and unlock it for them.

Everyone wants to be a story worth remembering. A popular saying in Vacuo that speaks to the deep, terrifying desire to want to connect with others; to know that even in death, our stories will outlive us, and that when we existed, we mattered. Vacuo as a whole places heavy emphasis on community, and this saying sort of embodies that sentiment. It’s also reinforced by Vacuo’s culture of venerating the dead, and revering one’s ancestors.

Somewhere, a Grimm smiles. This one can be interpreted as “Take all bad things in stride,” or perhaps as the not-quite equivalent to “Roll with the blows.” In life, hardships are inevitable (as are the Grimm). It’s an expression of comfort usually given to people who are bogged down by day-to-day troubles or inconveniences.

Parche. A self-important prick; a pejorative way to describe someone important. This term is itself derived from a much older idiom: You only matter if you’re on a map. However many centuries ago, long before humanity got the hang of building defensible cities, it was often a gamble whether or not a settlement would survive. If the local government didn’t have faith in a settlement’s ability to last more than a year, they would have cartographers omit that settlement when updating the year’s maps. As a result, uncharted settlements were often avoided by travelers, and they received the least amount of resources/funding from the local government. They tended to prematurely suffer because they were tacitly deemed unlikely to make it; consequentially, this led to outsiders regarding those settlements as “lesser.” The inhabitants of these settlements, in turn, began to contemptuously regard anyone who came from cities that were “important enough” to be recorded on a map. Over time, parche became a negative shorthand for anyone from one of the “parchment cities.”

[fallinginreversefanblog]

Falling In Reverse and the backing tracks

Since Sept 2022 there is a renewing beef between Ronnie Radke and Eddie Trunk/Sebastian Bach about the question: is there confirmed for a rock band to use laptops (a.k.a. backing tracks) in their live show or that would kill the essence of rock music live.

After many attempts from other musicians to explain Trunk that rock music has changed some in the past 30 years, and the live sounding became much complicated and dense either, Loudwire released an article today which summarizes the usage of the backing tracks in live music in general.

We even have a nice and clear definition here:

The article goes on with detailing the beef between FIR/Ronnie and Eddie, summarizing the mudthrowing which lasted more than a month long in 2022. Finally we get a statement:

"The band [FIR] undeniably has electronic components in their music, so the use of tracks is really the only way the songs could be adapted live appropriately."

Ronnie Radke talks about the laptop issue at Aftershock Festival in 2022, not much after the beef started. I picked only the backing track part, but it's worth to watch the whole video on YouTube.

Via YouTube

Another article was relased a few days later detailing bands' thoughts on using backing tracks in a live show.

The article contains a fabulous quote from Ronnie, unfortunately already deleted from Twitter.

The whole beef from Sep 2022 was well summarized in RockFeed's video, check below:

[get-starfingered]

When I first watch the anime I didn't mind the Jotaro ost since in general I don't care about ost usage but now that you mentioned it reeks of fanboyism . I know Jotaro is a symbol for the series but ffs this wasn't his part ,it was about the bonds between the part 6 cast . There should have been a whole new ost together ,maybe a combination between Jolyne+Weather themes since that was what the moment was about . They either got lazy and were searching for excuses or just wanted to shoehorn Joot in there once more .I wouldn't have mind if it wasn't the fandom's overall treatmemt of stone ocean too .Always making everything about the part about him .Sorry for my rant .

See, I definitely don't have a problem with some tracks carrying over from previous parts. It's not even the first time this has happened! "Hidden Feelings" which originated from Phantom Blood's soundtrack appears in Stardust Crusaders, for example. And themes from previous parts getting an adaptation for another part has also been done before, and hilariously with the contested theme in question, Jotaro's. His SDC theme got a more part-appropriate revamp, that matched the tone and style with Diamond is Unbreakable (the track is called "The Stardust Man Appears"). It's never used for other characters besides Jotaro, and only where it works with the scene at hand. This is all very cool! Intentionally selecting or reworking tracks can create a strong through line, and Stone Ocean should be no different.

What makes this especially aggravating regarding the final Emporio versus Pucci fight is not only that they chose Jotaro's theme to placate viewers, but that it's the unchanged, original SDC version of the song. So it's more bombastic, confident, no-fucks-given style, which gelled well with Jotaro laying a final beatdown on whatever Stand User he was fighting in SDC, feels so tonally incoherent to this scared kid cornered by the big bad with a divinity complex, who lost the few people he ever grew close to, in a different universe, in his first fight ever, desperately pulling a victory from the sacrifice/deaths of his friends, and clearly uncaring about what happens to himself afterwards as the second universe collapses in on itself after pummeling Pucci into a fine red paste. Like. How the fuck does that jazzy song with a strumming base guitar pumping up the audience make any narrative sense???

This is so much insult to injury too, because the original songs composed for Stone Ocean, from what we can hear in the anime itself, are really good! But that's the catch: no official soundtrack has yet to be announced, let alone released! So we haven't gotten a chance to really appreciate the few new tracks created for this part because, oops, you have to listen to it via the show itself (and bless the fans who attempt to extract the music from the show, but the quality understandably takes a hit). And the saddest part? It's clear that there aren't that many new songs, or at least it doesn't feel that way given how many reused tracks I could recognize from previous parts (mostly part 3, some part 1).

But getting back to the rest of your ask (sorry, I clearly have Feelings™ about this, lol), yeah, I get that Jotaro is often treated as The Jojo for the series, or at least the original universe. Which is. Eh. I get it, but that's never felt accurate to the generational aspect that sustains Jojo's enduring longevity. And I love Joot! I do. But second only to that specific segment of the SBR fandom's dudebro diehards who think all other parts are trash, SDC fans truly think that every part, including parts 4-6, exist in service of part 3. And so this use of the track incidentally or otherwise seems to echo this perspective.

The fact that there are people who legitimately think Jotaro is actually the main character (or at least the deuteragonist) in Stone Ocean is peak embarassing. But then you get the final battle using his theme. Cool. Because this victory was Jotaro's, right? It was actually a Jotaro versus Dio fight, part 2 electricboogaloo, yeah? Fuckin' 🙄🙄🙄🙄

I love the idea of a combined Jolyne and Weather theme! Hell, does Emporio even have his own theme?? That would have worked well too, or at least incorporate some notes in there. But alas.

I do chalk a lot of this up to the combination of budget issues, budget constraints, COVID, Netflix, the absolute shitcanning that the animation industry is suffering around the world, and that little dash of SDC favouritism for how this turned out overall. I really don't want to disparage the great work the David Productions crew has done to finally make a Stone Ocean adaptation a reality, particularly when we look at the hurdles it took to get here. I appreciate it so much. Part 6 really does get thrown in the trash by damn near everyone (and having a rather flawed but still enjoyable adaptation has helped people to discover and appreciate this part of the saga, which is a win). But I'm not going to act as though critique is unwarranted. There are a lot of issues, and the music choices are one of them.

Total aside, but I gotta give it to them that at least the two opening songs are absolutely fantastic, and the choice of Duffy's "Distant Dreamer", which I know Araki is responsible for choosing, hits the themes of finding new life and seeing hope and struggle in stride.

Anyway, thanks for the ask! Honestly I appreciated reading the rant, and getting to vent even more on my end.

[music-industry-updates]

Exploring Genre Flexibility in Deliver My Tune’s YouTube Content ID Offering

The music industry has evolved significantly over the past decade, with the advent of digital platforms revolutionizing the way content is created, distributed, and monetized. Deliver My Tune, a key player in this space, offers a YouTube Content ID service that allows artists to track and monetize their music across YouTube. This system is an essential tool for musicians seeking to control their work’s usage and ensure they are compensated when their content is shared on YouTube. However, one question that often arises among artists is whether there are any restrictions on the genres or types of music accepted by Deliver My Tune for their YouTube Content ID service. In this article, we’ll explore this question in detail, examining how Content ID works and the guidelines regarding accepted genres and music types.

Understanding YouTube Content ID

YouTube Content ID is a robust system developed to help rights holders identify and manage their content on the platform. This system scans user-uploaded videos and matches them against a database of registered music, allowing rights holders to claim, block, or monetize the use of their content. For musicians, this means that any video containing their music, whether it’s used in a background, remix, or cover, can be flagged, ensuring they get their due revenue.

Deliver My Tune leverages this technology by enabling independent musicians and record labels to register their tracks with YouTube’s Content ID. Once registered, the system scans YouTube for videos using the track and allows rights holders to decide how to manage the content — whether to monetize it or take it down.

Music Genres and YouTube Content ID

One of the main advantages of YouTube Content ID is that it is genre-agnostic. The system is designed to work with all types of music, from classical compositions to hip-hop beats. Whether you’re an independent artist creating experimental music or a band producing mainstream pop songs, YouTube Content ID can recognize and track your music across the platform.

That said, while the Content ID system itself doesn’t impose restrictions based on genre, Deliver My Tune operates within a specific framework when deciding which content to accept. The platform’s guidelines prioritize originality and rights management over musical style, meaning that as long as the music is original and the rights are appropriately held, it is generally eligible for YouTube Content ID.

Restrictions on Music Types

Though Deliver My Tune does not restrict music based on genre, there are important considerations regarding the type of music eligible for the YouTube Content ID service. Deliver My Tune requires that all submissions meet certain legal and ethical criteria. These include:

Ownership Rights: Artists must own 100% of the rights to the music they submit for Content ID. This includes both the sound recording and the composition. If the track contains samples or collaborative work, all contributors must agree to the use of Content ID.

Public Domain and Non-Copyrighted Works: Music that falls under the public domain or non-copyrighted works may not be eligible for Content ID registration. This is because Content ID is designed to track copyrighted material, and works that are not protected by copyright cannot be monetized in the same way.

Remixes, Mashups, and Covers: Tracks that heavily rely on third-party content, such as remixes, mashups, or covers of other artists’ work, may face challenges when being submitted to Content ID. In such cases, it’s critical to ensure that proper licensing and permissions have been obtained before submission. Without proper clearance, Deliver My Tune may reject the submission.

Third-Party Licensing: Music that has been licensed from a third party (e.g., a royalty-free music library or a sample pack) may not be eligible for YouTube Content ID unless explicit permission has been granted for monetization. Deliver My Tune ensures that all music submitted follows copyright guidelines and that third-party licenses don’t interfere with the rights management process.

Ethically Inappropriate Content: Any content that promotes hate speech, violence, or illegal activities is not eligible for the YouTube Content ID service. Deliver My Tune takes a firm stance against such material and follows community guidelines to ensure that all accepted content is appropriate for global distribution.

Ensuring Eligibility for Content ID

To maximize the chances of your music being accepted for YouTube Content ID via Deliver My Tune, it’s important to ensure that all legal and ethical requirements are met. This includes ensuring that you own or have cleared the rights to all elements of the track, that the content does not infringe on any third-party rights, and that it adheres to YouTube’s community standards.

Additionally, it’s recommended that artists familiarize themselves with copyright laws and licensing agreements, especially if they are using samples, third-party music libraries, or collaborating with other musicians. By maintaining control over all aspects of your music’s rights, you can ensure that your content is eligible for monetization on YouTube.

Conclusion

Deliver My Tune’s YouTube Content ID service offers a valuable opportunity for musicians to track, manage, and monetize their music across the platform. While there are no specific genre restrictions, the platform does require that all submissions meet strict criteria regarding ownership, rights management, and ethical standards. By understanding and adhering to these guidelines, artists can ensure that their music is accepted into the Content ID system and monetized effectively across YouTube.

[rightsclick]

The Importance of Copyright Management Information: Protect Your Creative Works with RightsClick

Creative works are shared and distributed across multiple platforms, managing copyrights has become increasingly complex. For artists, writers, photographers, and other creators, having the right copyright management information is crucial for protecting and monetizing their intellectual property. At RightsClick, we help simplify the process by providing easy-to-use tools and resources to secure your rights and manage your works effectively.

What is Copyright Management?

Copyright management involves overseeing the rights associated with a creative work, such as a photograph, song, article, or piece of art. This includes tracking how and where the work is used, ensuring proper licensing agreements are in place, and enforcing rights in case of unauthorized usage. Proper management also covers the renewal of copyrights and ensuring compliance with local and international copyright laws.

Why Copyright Management Information is Essential

Having access to comprehensive copyright management information is essential for several reasons:

Legal Protection: Understanding the rights you hold over your work is the first step in protecting it. Copyright management information provides the legal foundation you need to enforce your rights, whether you're dealing with unauthorized use, licensing, or disputes.

Monetization: For creators, intellectual property is an asset. By properly managing your copyrights, you can license your work to others, secure royalties, and generate income from your creations. Copyright management information helps you stay informed on the best practices for monetizing your work.

Preventing Infringement: Knowing how to track and manage your copyrights ensures that you can quickly identify and respond to infringement. Whether your work is being shared online without your permission or used in a commercial setting without a license, proper management helps prevent unauthorized use.

Global Reach: With the internet allowing creative works to reach a global audience, copyright protection now extends beyond borders. Copyright management information helps creators understand international copyright laws, ensuring their work is protected no matter where it’s shared.

How RightsClick Simplifies Copyright Management

At RightsClick, we provide creators with the tools and resources they need to effectively manage their copyrights. Here's how we make copyright management easy:

User-Friendly Platform: RightsClick’s platform is designed to streamline the copyright management process. You can easily register your works, track their usage, and receive notifications about potential infringements.

Comprehensive Support: We provide detailed copyright management information to guide creators through the legal landscape. Whether you're registering your work for the first time or need assistance with licensing and enforcement, RightsClick offers expert guidance.

International Coverage: With creative works often shared across borders, it’s important to understand global copyright laws. RightsClick ensures your work is protected internationally, providing peace of mind no matter where your content is viewed or used.

Protection and Enforcement: From registering your copyright to taking legal action against infringement, RightsClick offers end-to-end solutions for managing your intellectual property. Our platform helps you enforce your rights and take appropriate legal steps when necessary.

Conclusion

Managing copyrights effectively is crucial for protecting your creative works, ensuring proper licensing, and preventing infringement. With the right copyright management information, you can safeguard your intellectual property and maximize its value. At RightsClick, we simplify the process, providing creators with the tools they need to manage, protect, and enforce their copyrights both locally and globally. Visit RightsClick today to learn more about how you can protect your creative work.

[my-music-1460]

Neighboring Rights Royalties: Expanding Your Global Revenue

Neighboring rights royalties are earned from the public performance of sound recordings, distinct from composition rights. These royalties are particularly important for international earnings. As the global music market expands, understanding all types of royalties becomes essential for artists looking to maximize their income from various international sources.

Understanding Neighboring Rights Royalties

Neighboring rights royalties are a significant revenue stream for artists, musicians, and producers. Unlike mechanical and performance royalties that primarily benefit songwriters and composers, neighboring rights royalties are earned from the use of sound recordings, directly benefiting performers and record labels.

Definition and Importance: Neighboring rights royalties refer to the earnings generated when sound recordings are publicly performed, broadcast, or otherwise used. This includes playing music on the radio, in public venues like clubs and restaurants, and through digital streaming platforms. These royalties are distinct from the performance royalties paid to songwriters and publishers, focusing instead on the rights of the performers and producers of the actual recordings.

Global Perspective: The concept of neighboring rights royalties is recognized internationally, though the specifics can vary from country to country. Countries such as the UK, Germany, and France have well-established systems for collecting and distributing these royalties, while the United States has more limited provisions, particularly for terrestrial radio broadcasts.

Collection and Distribution

Role of Collecting Societies: Organizations like PPL (Phonographic Performance Limited) in the UK and Rein Canada play crucial roles in collecting and distributing neighboring rights royalties. These societies ensure that when a sound recording is used, the appropriate royalties are collected and distributed to the right holders.

How It Works:

Registration: Artists and record labels must register their recordings with the relevant collecting societies to be eligible for neighboring rights royalties.

Monitoring: The societies monitor the use of registered recordings across various platforms and public venues.

Collection: They collect royalties from businesses, broadcasters, and digital platforms that use the recordings.

Distribution: The collected royalties are then distributed to the registered right holders based on usage data.

Challenges in Collection: Despite the systematic approach, challenges remain in accurately tracking and collecting neighboring rights royalties. Issues such as inadequate reporting by broadcasters, lack of comprehensive global agreements, and the rapid evolution of digital platforms can hinder the efficient collection and distribution of these royalties.

Revenue Potential

Case Studies:

Adele: The British singer-songwriter has seen significant income from neighboring rights royalties due to her widespread global airplay and public performances.

Ed Sheeran: Another example is Ed Sheeran, whose songs are frequently played worldwide, generating substantial neighboring rights royalties for both the artist and his record label.

Maximizing Global Reach: To maximize earnings from neighboring rights royalties, artists should:

Register Globally: Ensure that their recordings are registered with multiple collecting societies worldwide.

Monitor Usage: Regularly check the reporting from these societies to ensure accurate collection.

Engage with Experts: Work with professionals who specialize in neighboring rights to navigate the complexities of international royalty collection.

Legal Aspects

International Agreements: Neighboring rights royalties are governed by various international treaties, such as the Rome Convention and the WPPT (WIPO Performances and Phonograms Treaty). These treaties aim to standardize the protection and collection of neighboring rights royalties across different jurisdictions.

Country-Specific Laws: While international treaties provide a framework, individual countries have specific laws and regulations regarding neighboring rights royalties. For example, in the European Union, the directive on copyright in the digital single market includes provisions for neighboring rights, ensuring a unified approach across member states.

Future Trends

Digital Revolution: The rise of digital platforms and streaming services has significantly impacted the collection of neighboring rights royalties. As more consumers turn to streaming, the need for accurate tracking and reporting has increased. Technologies like blockchain are being explored to enhance transparency and efficiency in royalty collection.

Global Expansion: With the global music market expanding, neighboring rights royalties are becoming increasingly important. Emerging markets in Asia, Africa, and Latin America present new opportunities for artists to earn from their sound recordings.

Conclusion

All types of royalties are essential for maximizing global income. Musicians should understand and leverage these rights to increase their earnings. By registering recordings, monitoring usage, and engaging with international collecting societies, artists can ensure they receive fair compensation for the public performance of their sound recordings.