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lemonsoured · 18 days ago

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A Statement on @patricia-taxxon

After recent events over the past couple of months, my co-director and I have decided that we are no longer working with Patricia Taxxon, and her score/sound design will not be used in the final release of our animated student thesis In Your Orbit. She has rights over all of the audio files that she created, and she is free to use or alter them for whatever other projects may come up for her. We only retain the rights to our visuals. On the off chance that the last festival that is showing the current version of the short gives us any prize money, she will still get a cut of it. She is free to continue to state publicly that she worked on the film originally, and use the soundtrack in her portfolio, but we will not be posting it or promoting it.

Patricia Taxxon has proven to be a person who is irresponsible at best. She has allegedly had inappropriate sexual conduct with minors as young as 13. She also regularly posts her extreme sexual fantasies on her main Tumblr, and has made claims regarding the nature of pedophilic art that she is not qualified to be making. She has also posted from behind closed doors that she has intentionally been manipulative regarding her apologies for her alleged sexual misconduct.

The original victim who accused her was harassed off the internet both times she came out about this, and no longer wishes to be contacted on this matter. However, the idea that any of the allegations were ever rescinded due to misinformation, or proven untrue, is false. In my opinion, I believe the victim’s testimony. It lines up with what I remember the environment of Taxxon’s discord server being like when I was there.

During the production of the short film, I was already aware of some of the accusations made towards Taxxon, but as I was a close friend, I wanted to believe they weren’t true. I was told that she was groomed into doing these things, that she didn’t remember doing them, and that she was likely to commit suicide. She told me she was suicidal on a regular basis during production, especially when the alleged victim was making and then posted a video recounting the allegations. Before that video even came out, she was telling me it was likely to ruin her life irreparably. She had a mutual friend with the victim who was supposedly playing double agent for her, so I heard all about it before and after it came out. I was under the impression that she was in imminent danger of harming herself several times. You can imagine what this might do to a person who cares about her. So, I willfully ignored the allegations for a long time, up until the point that Taxxon showed outward bigotry towards my demographic in a Tumblr meltdown. I deserve criticism for this, and I won’t begrudge anyone who feels like I waited too long or came out with the leaks that I did for selfish reasons. That is your right, and I’m sorry. I decided that all I could do was come out with what I do know and stop supporting this person, even if it costs me opportunities down the line.

Taxxon has also repeatedly shown herself to be extremely unprofessional, even for the standards of an internet drama cycle. She started by vaguely posting about myself on her Tumblr, stating that I am a threat to her, implying that I used her only to “dump her without warning,” and has repeatedly twisted my actions in order to gain sympathy from her Tumblr audience. She even begged her followers for someone else to take her to the Omaha Film Festival, before deleting that addition because she realized it made her look bad.

Her newest gripe with me is that I did not pay her for her work on the film, supposedly finding out partway through the project that she was not being paid. This is untrue. Luka and I were forthright with the fact that we were a team of two college students in Missouri with very little spending money. Thus, we offered her a cut of whatever we ended up making from the film in the festival circuit, planning to split any possible winnings among the three of us based on creative input. We also stated that we would not be taking a cut of any earnings she made off of the sale of the soundtrack, and that it would belong completely to her, just as my characters would to me. If any film companies approached us about the film to license it and the soundtrack, or if they wanted to use her music for another project involving these characters, that money would have gone to her. If she was confused about or had an issue with this arrangement, the time to bring that up would have been when we were discussing the agreement with her, or after any of the many critique sessions we went through with our professors and we were all discussing next steps, or really, any time at all during the year and a half that we were discussing and working on this project. But at no point before, during, or after production did she bring it up. She never suggested a rate, asked about other forms of payment, or anything. I was not holding a gun to her head. She could have brought it up with us at any time, and I am not a mind reader. Her only bringing up the subject now, after all of this time, points clearly to her attempting to extort me or use this issue as a way to gain sympathy from her Tumblr audience. It comes off like she wants to hold this over my head.

All of this not even mentioning that Taxxon was the one to say she wanted to work on the film, years before production started. This started as a collaboration between friends. Luka and I structured our agreement to be a partnership, where none of us were making guaranteed profit off of this project, especially since it is a student work, and we are not established artists with an audience. If anything, the person most likely to make any money off of this arrangement was Taxxon. We considered her an equal participant in this short film, and we wanted it to lift us all up. We gave her full artistic control over what vision she had for the soundtrack, and we often tried to cater our animation to best match it. This is why I found it strange when I asked if she was willing to contribute to festival fees, that she was very flippant with me about it. She stood to gain just as much as us from the film festival circuit, and I had already taken on the workload of doing research on and writing cover letters to each festival. Especially given that I pitched the festival circuit to her as a method to help her get her career offline and away from Kiwifarms, she had a lot to gain from all of this. As someone who had considered her a creative partner, her dismissal felt weird.

This screenshot from the time shows what she said to me regarding the fees, and also shows that she was aware of the arrangement. Thankfully, a lot of this took place on her new Discord account, so I do have the evidence for this portion.

Then, a couple of days later, she asked me if she could stay in my co-directors house or mine for the duration of the Kansas City FilmFest International (or KCFFI). Given she had not contributed to us submitting to that very festival, and had been flippant with me in that same week about the subject, I found it disrespectful. A good friend of mine compared it to “staying at a friend’s house and refusing to help with the grocery tab.”

And the fact that she decided to contribute to the DCP of all things because she “had a vested interest in [the film] sounding good,” as if festival fees were beneath her, but this, now this was something she could be bothered to care about… It was very telling with regards to how she viewed this film.

If she wants to get her 30 bucks back, I can PayPal it back to her.

I stand by everything I said in my testimony on the stream with CrimsonEnder. Honestly, I feel I was much too forgiving on the subject of sexual misconduct, especially since at the time, all of us were trying to gloss over the specific allegations for the victim’s sake, as like I said, they did not want to be involved. As much as Taxxon blustered about “ad-hominems,” I never called her names during the stream. I didn’t even directly call her a transphobe or any kind of bigot. I did not diagnose her with a paraphilia. I specifically stated that her being a trans woman should have nothing to do with why she does the bad things she does. I discussed the things she said and the actions she took. I stated what I remember of our relationship and the events that took place during production, because she had already taken to misrepresenting me in her Tumblr posts. I wanted to lay everything out for full transparency, as she was telling a very specific story about me and who I was. I wanted to present my counter-narrative. I got vulnerable, upset, and fiery at times, but for a public crashout taking place very soon after my falling out of a six year long friendship, I think it gets my points across fine. Especially considering I was still freshly feeling the shock of her outwardly going on a tirade about trans men. The stream is still available on Crim's channel for those who want to hear what I said. Taxxon only presented a couple of my basic notes on the subject that were made to keep me on track.

Taxxon also, notably, sent her followers after CrimsonEnder in a purposeful attempt to incite a harassment campaign against him. She reblogged a reply from him, implying as much, and then he immediately received an anon referring to him with a slur, and saying he was now in “a Panopticon.” Taxxon would later be seen replying in a different but related conversation, misusing the word “Panopticon” in the exact same way (Hint: the term for many people watching one would be a “Synopticon.” A Panopticon refers to one person watching many). You can find Crim's full statement about this incident on his blog.

She also referred to him as a “violent misogynist” who "threatened her in public" in a DM with me where she waved around the fact that she would be justified in “dragging me publicly” for my “betrayal” but wouldn’t, as if it was some big act of charity from her.

Only to, for some reason, make a request to CrimsonEnder (from behind a block) to take my testimony out of his stream and out of his document in a recent post. She is very vested in sowing division between myself and Crim, for what reason I’m not sure. All I know is that she is not above harassing the people who criticize her, and given that, it’s very rich for Taxxon to posture like her not sending her followers after me thus far is an act of goodwill. If I were to guess, now that I have made this statement and cut her off from the project, she will feel much more comfortable going scorched earth. She no longer has a project to protect her connection to.

In Your Orbit will be released at some point in the indefinite future, with a new score and new foley work. I will not be attaching Taxxon’s name to it at all, positively or negatively. I will not be using any of the work that she produced, and I will never work with her in any capacity ever again. I cannot promote the work of a person who acts like this, who hurts others without remorse and uses her power as an influencer to get away with sweeping serious allegations under the rug. Especially given that none of our agreements were set in stone with a signed contract, I have no obligation to continue to associate with her after all she's done. I would be a hypocrite if I used her clout to profit or to expand my career opportunities. Even if it means I have to lose out on networking possibilities, lose the guaranteed audience, and pay out of my pocket to have the film re-scored and have a new foley track added. I am sticking to my principles on this. I refuse to coast on her coattails, and if this means that the film won’t be as successful, then so be it. Any recognition gained through affiliation with Patricia Taxxon is recognition that I don’t want. I don’t want her endorsement, and I don’t want her audience.

I cannot control what Patricia Taxxon says or does. She can do whatever she wants with her life and career, but leave me and my art out of it.

-Jules Hydes

#patricia taxxon

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rivalswrites · 2 months ago

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Could you do headcannons for poly w Reed Richards X Reader X Susan Storm? I love them both sm <3

Throuple with Reed and Susan

Before you read, please be warned that I'm writing based on my impressions of them not only in the game (though it's the biggest inspiration), but some of them with the movies/shows in mind too.

A single suggestive comment is made, but it's not serious or goes into detail. Susan is called Sue

Oml I love them both so much, let me be their third 😭🙌 wrote a little more than I thought I would.

Masterlist

Two words. Power. Throuple.

Not only do you three dominate the bedroom, but also the battle field and laboratory. Three big geniuses and strong fighters.

The three of you make the greatest support system, not only for each other but for others around you as well. When either of you are down, the other two know just how to brighten the day, your optimism in any situation spreading to those around and bringing their mood up- intentional or not.

Reed is an airhead at times, but that doesn't stop you and Sue from loving him as he loved you. He's been getting overwhelmed as of lately, the weight of saving the entire multiverse was heavy on his mind more than anyone else. Working day and night while also fighting to keep things at bay, it was a lot for him. You and Sue could see that. So it's more often than not that during free time the two of you would sit in the laboratory and watch over him. Both of you would take turns making sure he ate something and giving him affection to keep him sane.

Sue is strong minded, she believes in what she knows is right and won't back down to anyone who dares say otherwise. The multiversal problem is stressful for her too, but she knows when to ask for help when she feels it's all too much for her. Her favorite activity to relax is a cuddle pile, believe it or not. She'll lay on the bed, and enjoy the pressure of both you and Reed laying directly on top of her; Reed’s arms wrapped tightly around the both of you.

That's often how you guys sleep, on top of Sue and in the arms of Reed. Though the person being dog piled on would alternate on occasion, it was usually Sue.

When Reed can't make it to bed (even with you and Sue taking the time to try and convince him to get some sleep) the both of you find it hard to sleep without his arms around you two. The solution? Burrito blanket. You take the biggest blanket you can and roll around until it's tight and the both of you are giggling face to face in each other's arms.

When Sue can't make it to bed, for whatever reason, you and Reed make it work. He still wraps his arms around you like usual, but he lays on top of you now. He isn't used to not having someone underneath him, so if it isn't Sue it's probably you. Sue’s pillow rests in between you two, it somehow brings comfort to you.

When you can't make it to bed, Sue and Reed suffer, but make due. They lay facing together on your usual spot on the bed, wrapped up in all the blankets and only using your pillows. When you come in later to finally rest, they slightly wake up (like they have some sort of 6th sense) and happily welcome you in between them. No sleeping on anyone needed, just a squished sandwich because the both of them refuse to move off of your side of the bed.

Meals are special, a time uninterrupted by anything. Usually meals are held at the table, plates set and food displayed for anyone to grab as much as they wanted. Conversation flowed easily about every topic, be it work or a hobby, anything brought up is welcomed by the others. But sometimes meals are less formal, usually dinner. It'd be held in your room, sitting on the bed with takeout containers sat on everyone's laps while totally binging some dumb reality show. You all laugh and call the people in the show dumb, and it's just a time where the three of you can fully relax and enjoy time in your spouse's presence.

Reed is more affectionate than Sue, his stretchy body playing a great role in it. He'll wrap his arms around you, Sue, or both (much like during the night), and nuzzle his dumb face into your shoulder. He likes to muzzle, and he does it very often; in bed, as a greeting, as a goodbye, while hugging, any time he has the chance he'll take the opportunity to do it. His beard scratches against your skin or hair, but it doesn't feel as uncomfortable as you'd think.

Sue has taken up Reed's nuzzling habit, having been around him for so long. She doesn't do it as often, and only in private. Usually in solitude when she's down or comforting you/Reed. Sometimes in bed, when it's just her and either of you, she gets embarrassed if it's both of you and doesn't do it. Her hugs are strong and extremely comforting.

Never is one person in the relationship left to do all the work, even when they ask for it. Cooking is never a one person job, nor are chores. It's all split as evenly as possible, and if someone is behind on anything the others are there to help. If you can't find the time or effort to do something, Sue and Reed will do it for you if possible- saying you'll just have to return the favor later (the favor being extra affection or a one on one date).

Speaking of, one on one dates do happen. Both you, Sue, and Reed understand that sometimes there are times where three is a bit much, or that there needs to be separate bonding time. You and Sue will have shopping dates, you and Reed will have walks outside together, Reed and Sue will catch up on a hobby they both share, you've all got something special for the separate dates.

Celebrations are taken very seriously. Anniversaries, birthdays, big milestones, you name it they'll celebrate it. Reed has taken it up on himself to perfect each and every cake flavor to exist, so every celebration has a homemade cake that the three of you have to give to Johnny and Ben the next day to help finish it. Sue on the other hand takes the time with you to plan dinner, be it take out or making a warm meal together.

#marvel rivals #marvel #marvel rivals x reader #marvel x reader #susan storm #susan storm x reader #invisible woman x reader #invisible woman #reed richards x reader #reed richards #mister fantastic x reader #mister fantastic #polyamory #power throuple #headcanons

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meanbossart · 2 months ago

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ASK COMPILATION #385032: Shape-shifting genitals, mouth-mashing skillsets, who taps out first in the bedroom and the 17 different types of meat this guy eats.

I TRIED TO MAKE THIS A BIG ONE. Thank you everybody for your patience!

The truth of the matter is that I need one dramatic light-source or I will perish. HOWEVER...

Yeah, they seem the type to leave it purposefully ajar for the thrill of it. As well as the excuse to bring hell down upon anyone caught trying to steal a peek.

YES, actually! I've had the concept for a comic or two that's precisely about interactions they've had while younger. Comics take a lot of work, and there's a LOT of things I want to do, but that is definitely in the plans.

Yes! Or rather, as a shapeshifter, I believe she doesn't bother with them 99% of the time, possibly never, even though she has the habitability to form them if she so wished. The Orin DU drow knew was always doll-like in appearance when nude, and he did not particularly mind it or fantasized about anything different.

I believe this is both a preference in Orin's part (and across many shapeshifters, if I recall correctly) as well as a strategic choice.

And thank you so much!

[MORE BELOW THE CUT]

I don't know, kissing isn't that hard LOL I think they're pretty even-leveled in technique but Astarion is the tonguier one.

ALL IN DUE TIME, MY FRIEND, ALL IN DUE TIME...

Maybe 😊 🤫though I'm not sure how useful his powers would be in that context.

That said, Indeed! The irony of this match isn't lost on anyone. I'm sure Astarion would have some thoughts about the convenience of it.

I know this is more of a jokey message, but I don't think Astarion would be cool with that sort of thing, and DU drow most definitely wouldn't ask 😂

Whatever works, as he would probably say!

Astarion got drunk through DU drow on occasion while he still fed on him, yes LOL I don't care if that makes sense or not, It's a hysterical concept and definitely factual in my canon. To be fair as well, DU drow is a huge man and has to drink a LOT to get properly wasted - so Astarion wouldn't have to consume a whole lot from him to get on a similar level!

Post a few particular post-campaign events, Astarion gets drunk through strangers' blood that were either piss-drunk already or have been fed alcohol forcibly by the pair.

He likes thick stews, braised pork, and meat-pies the most. Don't ask me when or why I've decided this but he likes octupi as a every-once-in-a-while treat - I think he mostly enjoys the experience of eating it more than the taste.

For drinks, he likes beer, red semi-dry wine, and mead the most. He also likes a GOOD whisky - none of the copper-coin garbage they serve at most Inns.

Hi! Incredible question. DU drow can go indefinitely but when he stops he knocks out in record speed. There usually comes a point where Astarion flops over and lets him do all the work.

You know how, shortly after you find out about it, if you tell Astarion that you're frightened of your origins you get that really heartfelt bit of dialogue about how yourself and him are so much alike, and how he feels similarly powerless before Cazador as you do toward your father? Well, I never got that, because DU drow was too busy squinting into the horizon and contemplating the logistics of his conception which prompts Astarion to, essentially, say something along the lines of "Okay, if all you want to do is discuss your dad's cum I'm out"

So, like that.

They didn't smash in the graveyard! I'm hoping to either write a short thing about it, draw something inspired by how the scene went down in my head, or, ideally, both!

That IS kind of a wild comparison but I'm guessing you know about my origins, LOL.

Not... Quite. I'm reluctant to say more because I would like for it to be a surprise that I bring you all through art (even if you can make a pretty accurate deduction based on what has been said so far) but suffice to say that this is the flipside to the Bhaalist DU drow AU.

I don't think I could find the time 😭😭😭 but that's a hysterical idea and I would gladly mash together a bunch of clips if someone else was willing to highlight them!

Hello and thank YOU for humoring me in my nerdy little forays!

I hadn't heard about Model/Actriz but I had a little sneak-peek and, indeed, this might just be right up my alley LOL

It's hard for me to remove these characters from their intended universe so I have a difficult time picturing what they would listen to if the options didn't all sound like string-y bardcore music. I'm sure there are more genres to speak of in DnD lore, I'm just ignorant of them!

That said I do have some thoughts about which of them even enjoy music at all.

REALLY enjoys music: DU drow, Jaheira, Misc, Karlach, Wyll.

Modestly enjoys music: Gale, Shadowheart, Minthara, Halsin.

Generally doesn't enjoy music: Astarion, Lae'zel.

No notes just canonical character information being shared

I forgot what this one was in reference to for a moment and I was so aghast.

I really, really hope you weren't hoping for me to give you work-out advice because both, if you were, you've come to the wrong man.

But if you're just wondering about lore here, I think it's a solid 50/50. I think he's predisposed to a really well-built physique because Daddy Bhaal said so AND he's incredibly active and incidentally does a lot of manual labor. If he's had a few too many sedentary days in a row (which is rare) he pretty much has to tire himself through at-home routines or he goes a little cuckoo-bananas as well.

And thank you for being interested in my little freak!

He's pretty thoroughly desensitized, and thinks far too little of Orcs and half-orcs to be intimidated by them, even when that lack of fear is downright stupid. He's not impervious to fear, however, despite how hard he tries to be - Myrkhul, Grym, the giant Steelwatch, the brain, and even Cazador AFTER he snatched Astarion away were all encounters that made his blood run cold to varying degrees. I think it takes an unfamiliar foe for his sweat to run a little cold.

(Ironically, Raphael had no such effect on him.)

#ask #ask compilation #du drow and astarion #orin the red

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glitch-but-ya · 2 months ago

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The echo of who I once was. II

"Let your memory of me fade with time" II

TAGS: Mentions of violence and death, dysphoria, mental health struggles.

WORD COUNT: 2,543 words Tag list: @withering-dream , @moonlight-inthe-sea A/N: For better understanding, I’d recommend reading Sylus’s anecdotes.

PART 1 PART 3

!THIS STORY IS HEAVILY DEPENDENT ON "BEYOND CLOUDFALL" AND MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS!

Memories are both a curse and a blessing, don’t you think? That which gives us strength to push through the darkest parts of our lives can also be the one to drive us to the very edge of the cliff. The weight of them feels like a chain coiled around your throat, binding you to your past. Neither of us can escape destiny. But still, I wonder what would happen if neither of our memories were restored. Would you love me then? Or was I destined to never be yours?

Sylus didn’t know the answer. He kept reading.

When you told me that you loved me, I felt happy. I know how mundane that sounds. But when you said that I was yours, I felt as if my life suddenly had purpose. All my years of hardship had led me to you, and I was content. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was worth something—worth someone’s attention, worth living for. That’s why I couldn’t let you go—I couldn’t let go of the chance to live. I’m sorry.

He knows.

My selfishness, combined with this newfound sense of euphoria, led me to cling to you desperately and overwhelm you with my presence. I completely overlooked the obvious hints you threw at me occasionally, all because I wanted to believe that you loved me. I was scared. I thought that if I were to take notice, you’d abandon me, and I’d lose you. This is not an excuse, but simply an explanation. Whether you forgive me or not, well… I wouldn’t know anyway.

Sylus took a sip from his glass.

I don’t expect us to meet again.

He doesn’t either.

And that’s why, I want to tell you everything, so I can leave without regrets. Forgive me. This is the last selfish act I’ll perform.

Sylus set the envelope down, sealing it back with admirable precision. He threw his head back against the headboard and sighed. He couldn’t believe he let the aether core slip away. And he couldn't believe he couldn't find it in himself to reshape you into another form. In every possibility, you'd come around eventually. So why did he feel as helpless as a sculptor standing before his own crumbling statue? A part of him knew that you couldn't be changed. You loathed your former self, he could tell.

And to add to his frustration, he simply did not have time for this. He was due to a ‘business’ trip within the N109 zone—his presence was required at a seemingly ordinary auction trafficking illegal protocores. The leader of Onychinus was a busy man, after all. How could he let emotions overwhelm him when so much in his life depended on his nonchalance? He was a fool for thinking he could reform you. He had mistaken you for gold. Unfortunately, as softhearted as you were, you couldn’t be molten and hammered into what he wanted you to be. But he couldn’t deny that it was also partially his fault because he knew.

‘Please kill me.’

From the moment he used his aether core to listen in on your desires, he knew that you’d already lost what made you his sorceress. The heart that once yearned for bloodshed and vengeance was now reduced to a blubbering mess, waiting for the day it’d stop beating. The voices that once wished to claim his authority were replaced by a feeble, pitiful voice. You were weak and untainted, like the humans he hunted down for a couple of gold to add to his collection. And yet, a part of him held on. He didn’t know what it was. Denial, he assumed. The inability to accept that his beloved was no more. Or perhaps it was the guilt of injustice being done upon you. He had barely scratched the surface of your desires, after all. Perhaps there was more that lay beyond your wish to die. But whatever it was, it wasn’t her. Listening to your voice for longer wouldn’t bring her back. Even so, letting you go wasn’t the wisest choice either.

After all, his relationship with you served two purposes: love (formerly) and the aether core. Now, he’d lost the chance to claim both. All because he let his emotions take hold. Sylus felt pathetic. And for the first time, he doubted his own abilities. He was torn between the choice of taking the leap and bringing you back, and staying on the other end of the crumbling bridge to wait and see how things would unfold from here. The chance of another aether core existing on this planet was slim.

But not entirely impossible.

Sylus’s form loomed over the city below, his crimson eyes gazing into its depths. Lights dotted the cityscape in irregular patterns. A full moon hung proudly in the sky, almost as if welcoming his arrival. There was a crow perched on his shoulder. The crow had ruby eyes, quite similar to his own. Behind him stood two smaller, masked men, ready to obey his orders. A familiar wind howled past them—a dry breeze lacking warmth and life, carrying nothing but dust, reminiscent of the way you had hollowed out something within him. He stood, eyeing the crowds below. Not long after, he raised his head, gazing at the sky awash in hues of red. This auction was an incubator for human desires—greed, gluttony, and lust.

“Is everything ready?”

“Yes, boss!”, they chanted in unison. A slight smirk tugged at Sylus’s lips. Of course, he wouldn’t have attended such a low-class auction if something hadn’t caught his watchful eye. This time, what appeared was exactly what he sought. A valuable gem, a treasure eclipsing the finest of its kind—a certain aether core had been passed around insignificant auctions under the guise of an ordinary protocore. It had caught the attention of several other corporations, excluding his own. This time, the stakes were high, and failure could have severe consequences. He could lose everything. But did it really matter anymore? The only reason for his stay in this world was you. If he simply wished, he could start over on a planet far from yours, where he could live his life as a relentless conqueror, unbothered and undisturbed by your curse.

Sylus's hand unconsciously traveled to his eye—the very eye 'you' wished to claim so dearly. He grazed it with his fingers.

Sylus... I curse your soul...

He clenched his eyes shut.

Only I can grant you a true death.

He knew that the aether core in your heart wasn't the only one of its kind aside from his own. Surely, there existed another one somewhere across the cosmos. But that was the problem. Throughout the endless tapestry of planets, universes, and possibilities, where would he search? And amidst the legion of life forms across worlds, how could he be sure that his sovereignty surpassed all others? Earth was, by far, the easiest land to graze. So he couldn’t let go of this opportunity. Not yet.

If it were him a few months ago, the mere idea of leaving Earth would have torn him apart. But now, if the aether core slipped from his grasp, he would wander aimlessly until he caught wind of a new sighting. Perhaps, it was all a grand scheme of his own to escape you. Sylus had never fled from anything before.

His hands gripped the railing. It wasn’t the time to daydream. There was an opening laid out for him in plain sight. One rightfully timed strike and the aether core was his. His gaze scrutinized the large building before him, where the auction would take place.

Your words both held him back and urged him forward. A lovesick side of him cried out, begging him to open his eyes and try to understand the changes that had occurred. But his wrath would not let him. How dare you? After all these years of searching, after all the sacrifices he'd made, after all the pain he had endured in your place—how dare you betray him like this? Eventually, one arose triumphant. Very well, then. If you were going to leave, then so be it. He would let you have your way.

Taking a sharp breath, Sylus descended.

A sigh escaped your lips. You eyed yourself in the bathroom mirror, your hair falling like a veil over your face. Tracing the dips and curves of your body, you felt alien to yourself—flawed, unfamiliar. The incessant drip of water trickling down played monotonously in the background of your thoughts. You felt flawed. You couldn’t recognize yourself in the mirror.

Your hand shot out. Your fingers caressed your own figure, who stared back at you. "Who was I before this?" you whispered, your head tilting slightly. "You were me, weren't you? Then why…" Your hand stilled. The finger pressed down on the reflection of your face with increasing pressure. "I hate you. So why do I wish to be you?"

That night, you couldn’t squeeze in even a second of sleep. Something within you ached. You didn’t know if it was the wrathful throb in your head or the melancholic sting in your heart. Every time you shut your eyes, a figure emerged from the darkness. A white-haired woman with scarlet eyes and sharp features. She looked nothing like you. The mere sight of her formed a lump in your chest. Her face radiated mock cruelty and greed, like a simmering pot of rotting wine; disgusting and bubbling. Her form was hauntingly elegant, almost ethereal—if not for the maggots writhing beneath her skin. An ever-present source of desire seethed from within her soul. It stank like the decaying flesh of a dead rabbit. Her soul reeked of the miserable fixations of humanity, the same delusions that transformed humans into harbingers of destruction. She was the type to bring death upon those she deemed unworthy, to burn whoever she pleased, and to warm the few who stood by her side. She was like a blazing, crackling fire that emerged from a hearth set alight by its own gluttony and greed. She was utterly human. There was no other word to describe it. She was exactly who you loathed: an usurper wrapped in a cloak of fragile beauty.

She didn’t just occupy your sleep. Even at work, you found yourself subconsciously drawn to the thought: How could she ever be you? You couldn’t fathom it. Even in a past life, the thought of yourself turning out like her seemed inconceivably alien. You figured that if there were a past incarnation of you, she would resonate with you as if she were an extension of yourself. But every time you lingered on her memory, you felt increasingly isolated. The harder you tried to reach out, the further she drifted—like a small boat being pushed farther from a warship. The larger ship's mighty waves pushed the boat farther and farther, no matter how desperately the boat rowed toward it. Although, the main concern was staying afloat. Your main concern should’ve been the aether core. Wasn’t that why you stayed? Was it truly because of love, and not the opportunity to extract information about the aether core from Sylus? You couldn’t believe yourself. For a moment, you wondered, how could you let the aether core slip away?

Your grip on your desk tightened, your knuckles turning white. The voices around you blurred into one until the only thing you could hear were the whispers of your own destructive mind spitting venom into your ears. Captain Jenna’s voice diminished in importance, and you found yourself focusing more on the thought of her.

After experiencing the dream of your past, her sight plagued your mind. Sometimes, she was clad in jewels (all while she reeked of greed). Other times, she was driving the greatsword into the dragon's chest. You couldn’t deny that if she hadn’t fought back, she probably wouldn’t have lived long enough to become the dragon's beloved. Whereas you would’ve been killed taking a different approach. You are grateful for her unwavering will to live, and you are grateful that she brought Sylus into your life.

But what you could never forgive was the image of herself she carved into his heart. The powerful ‘sorceress’ feared by all, the young dragon fledgling whose horns had just begun to sprout—how he could worship that, you wondered. She was just a weaker version of himself. Perhaps she possessed something you couldn’t see. Either way, what was the point of lingering on this matter? There’s no use in assigning blame. No matter how ferociously you loathe her, she will always occupy his heart. Revenge has no purpose. It only initiates endless suffering and a cycle of inflicting pain. All you could do was move on with your life. You weren’t going to meet him again, anyway. Or so you thought.

"And you will be going to the N109 zone," Captain Jenna began, breaking your trance with a simple sentence and jolting you awake. "Any queries?" she concluded. You weren’t sure how you looked. Looking back, you probably should’ve asked Tara to hold a mirror to your face. You must’ve looked aggravatingly stupid. Like an imbecile who had just hopped into the wrong room. Perhaps Sylus's talk about "destiny" and "fate" wasn’t just to sound wise and philosophical. You were seriously wondering how fate could’ve stabbed you in the back like this. Your vow to Sylus would be broken due to a silly mission. How comical.

But you couldn’t just accept this, of course. So, after the meeting had ended, you walked into Jenna’s office.

"There is nobody more capable of pulling off this mission than you." Fate must really be playing games with you, huh? "But, Captain…" you opened your mouth to protest, but were quickly silenced by Jenna’s sharp gaze. "You’ve been to the N109 zone, haven’t you? And you came back alive. This isn’t just any mission—it’s critical. We need someone who can handle the pressure. Someone familiar with the dangers." Her gaze scanned your form. "This mission is not only dangerous but extremely vital. That is why I will be pairing you with Xavier. Only the two of you can execute this mission flawlessly." You tilted your head curiously. You zoned out during the meeting, so you could only assume it was something related to the aether core. What else could be so vital as to require the best hunter on board? But if Xavier is with you, perhaps you can find an excuse to steer clear of Sylus. Not that you expect him to show himself to you openly, but letting him know that you’re here with a hunter only accentuates that you are here strictly for business. Although you don’t want Xavier to be caught up in this, this mission may lead you to crucial knowledge about your very own aether core. You looked down and placed a hand where your heart would be. You couldn’t let this chance slip away.

"So, I believe the two of you won’t disappoint," the Captain said, turning to you, her chin raised high. You immediately straightened your posture and cleared your throat. "Yes, ma’am."

Hello!! I wanted to say: thank you so much for your votes regarding the previous fic! Although I’d intended to keep it as an ‘angst-with-no-comfort’ oneshot, I decided against it due to some people commenting on how a part two would be great (I couldn’t resist writing the story anyway. I had a plan for it in my head beforehand which I’d intended to keep to myself. The comments only fuelled that desire further). I do hope this doesn’t end up becoming a major flop. I apologize for the time it took to write this much. I’ve been very busy lately; unfortunately, I do not see myself having free time in the future either. But I’ll try my best to keep up with this! Oh, and, for the people who want to keep viewing the initial ending as it was, you can! I understand that some people may not be happy with this series. So, you are free to interpret it as you wish! I had multiple endings planned for this anyway. And, YES! The title of the series has officially been changed.

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ilguna · 1 year ago

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Piano Sessions: "White Leather" by Wolf Alice + Finnick Odair x reader, their relationship had just started when Quarter Quell happened and both sent to arena, when the rebels pull victors out she gets left behind but her tracker was taken out and the gamemakers can't find her in arena. so everyone assumes she's dead but she escapes. while she's on the run she thinks about the life she wants with Finnick (maybe she sees the propo he does and he says something about her death). as "star squad" makes their way through the capitol they are reunited.

☼ white leather (Finnick Odair) ☼

warnings; swearing, death mention, reader has an injury.

wc; 5.7k

prompt; Piano Sessions: songfic, white leather by wolf alice. not noticable.

The seasons are changing, the warmth is fleeting, and the loneliness is burrowing in your heart. While you were being roasted alive a few weeks ago due to the unrelenting heat, mother nature has since decided to be kind rather than cruel. With summer ending, it allows her to relax, iron fist loosening.

It’s perfect timing, too.

If you had to endure it for any longer, you think you would’ve stopped traveling, ultimately setting you back. It was different when you were in the arena, because you weren’t actively moving for the entire day, just in increments. Out here you have no choice, especially if you want to make it back.

The Capitol can’t be that much further. After walking in the trees of Panem for hours at a time for weeks, it has got to be around here somewhere. You know for certain that you’re heading in the right direction because you stumbled into District Nine by accident.

You didn’t even realize you had, even though you crossed through a fence to get inside. In your defense, there’s a lot of sectioned off areas inside of the wilderness, with no apparent reason why. What should’ve given you a clue was the burnt wheat field, stretching as far as your eyes could see.

In the distance, you could make out buildings, something that also wasn’t too unusual, considering that when the districts were formed after the Dark Days, a lot of structures were abandoned. You’ve been hopping between them, actually. It’s dangerous, they’re falling apart, and there’s critters absolutely everywhere, but you don’t have much of an option.

You’ve tried sleeping under the stars, it’s not at all comfortable. You get increasingly paranoid as the hours drag on, afraid of the wild animals coming across you. You’d be able to defend yourself, with the knife that you have from the Quarter Quell arena. In the case of a pack, you’d be screwed.

They’d tear you apart, and then you’d have to add on their damage to injuries you already have. The last thing you need right now is another infected wound. The one on your forearm is bad enough. It’s your own fault, you dug out the tracker prematurely, assuming that you’d be rescued out of the arena, because that was the plan.

When Katniss short circuited the dome using the lightning, she unintentionally messed up the plan, putting the rebels on a time crunch. They were able to get her, Finnick and Beetee out of the arena, you believe. Which left you, Johanna and Peeta behind. And Enobaria, but she doesn’t really count.

You ran across your allies, tried to tell them that if they didn’t want to fall into Capitol hands, then they had to escape that minute. Johanna, who usually trusts your judgement, was resistant to the idea of escaping the dome. She didn’t like the idea of having to survive outside of it, not knowing where to go. She wanted to play it safe, and if that meant enduring whatever the Capitol had in store, then that’s what had to be done.

You would’ve argued with her, possibly even convinced her, if the hovercraft hadn’t appeared above the three of you. They knew exactly where they were because of the trackers they still had. With you being set on not being captured, you ran, leaving them behind, while you got out of the dome.

They should’ve caught you. It was an open field for at least a mile, they easily could’ve seen you, shot you and scooped you up. You don’t think you’ve ever run so fast in your life. Johanna and Peeta must’ve put up a fight, if it took them that long to grab them out.

You didn’t hear news for a long time, not until that farmer caught up with you in that wheat field. She was out of breath, face a bright red from running for so long, sweat running down from her temples. You paused, watching in slight amusement as she tried to catch her breath, clearly wanting a conversation.

“You… what are you… doing out here?” She gasped, a hand on her chest. “If the Peacekeepers catch you…”

At the mention of Peacekeepers, you were no longer smiling. “Where am I?”

Her face twisted. “Well, District Nine, of course.”

The burnt field clicked then, and you turned to look at it with new eyes. It also explained why the fence you climbed over was harder than the last few. Which then got your mind working, wondering if you’d been in District Nine the week before, because it was heavily barbed.

“My name is (Y/n).” You said, head shaking. “I don’t live here, I’m a victor from District Four.”

She squinted at you, unbelieving. She eyed your body, the clothes you were wearing, which is nothing but an undershirt, a pair of shorts and water boots. Not the typical clothing for a farmer out in the fields, you guessed. You came to the right conclusion, because her mouth opened.

“You’re supposed to be dead.” She told you. “How did you get out of the arena?”

“It fell apart. I simply climbed out.”

She made a noise, as if the answer was too easy. “Where are you heading? District Four?”

“No, the Capitol. How far away am I?”

“Close, but you’re going in the wrong direction. You need to get to District Two, they cracked the Nut.” She pointed over your shoulder. “If you get to the rebel base, they’ll help you there.”

You nodded slowly. “They still have Peacekeepers here?”

“We’re too close, that’s why they haven’t retreated. They’ve up and abandoned the further districts. They wiped out District Twelve completely.”

You tilted your head. “Everyone’s dead?”

“They bombed it, seen it in the propos with Katniss Everdeen. Some of her people made it out, they’re in District Thirteen now. Not much left of ‘em.”

“Right.” You murmured. “Thank you for the help.”

“Wait, don’t you want me to look at that for you?” She motioned to where you’d cut out the tracker. “It looks nasty.”

“I don’t have time.”

“Well, good luck.” She said, “You better hurry and get out of here.”

“I will.”

She nodded, watching as you turned away, heading for District Two. From what you’ve gathered, you’re confident enough to say that the Quarter Quell arena was placed in the space between Districts Eight, Nine and Two. When you picture the map of Panem in your mind, it’s the area that makes the most sense.

A part of you wishes that you’d taken up her offer on cleaning out the cut. You have some herbal knowledge, which is what’s keeping it from killing you, but that has nothing on real medicine. This could’ve been healed days ago, and it likely wouldn’t have left a scar.

There’s also so many questions that come to mind since talking to her. Parts of the conversation that didn’t make sense to you. The biggest one being her telling you that you should be dead. Why? At the very least, the Capitol should know that you made it out alive. Especially if they did a sweep of the arena and didn’t come out with your body.

Unless they figured that you escaped and you’ve died out here somewhere, starving and alone. Which is the dumbest conclusion that they could possibly come to. With your track history, the bare minimum that you’ve lived off of your entire life, including your Games, they should know you’re a parasite that you can’t get rid of so easily.

If there’s one good thing that’s come out of fighting in the Hunger Games, it’s that you know how to survive. It would’ve been harder to do if you were rusty, but your time in the arena was a refresher, setting you up to live out here, which is not nearly as difficult. You don’t actively have other tributes hunting you down every waking second.

If the Capitol really thinks that you’ve died, they have a surprise coming.

Your feet stutter a step when you realize what that means. It’s not just the Capitol, District Nine believes it too. There’s a good chance that they’re advertising it to the rest of the districts, then. You wouldn’t put it past them, they rub factors in your faces all the time, like District Thirteen. They led you to think that it’d been destroyed decades ago, when in reality, they came to an agreement that allowed Thirteen to slip out without the others noticing.

Oh, you hope that Finnick isn’t believing the same thing that girl did. You really hope that he wouldn’t take their word for it. But why wouldn’t he? District Thirteen didn’t have enough resources to rescue you all, and the Capitol was right there. Who’s to say that you didn’t die before they could get you out? Or that they didn’t kill you in captivity? Or that they’re secretly hiding you.

They could say anything they wanted about you, and he’d have no choice but to believe it because there’s no evidence proving otherwise.

You’ve been thinking about Finnick a lot lately out here while you walk, mostly your future. It was discussed briefly before the Quarter Quell, because the two of you had come to the agreement of volunteering for the Games. The conversation didn’t get very far after you started talking about the hypothetical rebellion if the arena did work out.

If you had it your way, you think you would’ve talked to him about what he wants to do after the rebellion, because you have so many ideas. Primarily, you’ll be able to travel, you won’t be held down by District Four. You and Finnick could spend months bouncing between districts, and come back home when you get tired of it.

For the first time in your lives, you’ll have freedom. You’ll be able to do anything you want with little to no limit. There will be no more Hunger Games, no more months of preparation with teenagers that have no choice. There won’t be any interruptions, something that held the two of you back for so long.

And you’re not talking about the Games being a burden, you mean the relationship you’ve been denying. You and Finnick have had unavoidable chemistry for years, but between district life and the Capitol, there was no room to explore until recently. And even that seems to have been a mistake, something that should’ve waited.

Except, neither of you could suppress the urges any longer. You were already sharing longing looks and gentle touches, there was no point in withholding the pleasures when you were already dipping into it. That’s why you made it official in April, four months after the announcement, three months before the reaping.

There had been countless nights where you stayed up, dreaming of the day where you’d be able to be yourselves. Where the stars would align perfectly to allow you to become more than just friends. When it finally happened, you almost didn’t believe the words coming out of Finnick’s mouth.

It’s been difficult to take it slow with him, because you feel like you’ve been dating him this entire time, under the table. You might not have been physical with him, but the emotional aspect was there. In your mind, he was already yours. And he admitted to you that he felt the same, that you belonged to him years ago.

You remember shivering when he told you that, because you had a feeling that it was true. These were words that you thought you’d have to wait to hear come out of his mouth. He was eager to tell you these truths, like a weight being lifted off of his chest. Like he’d been planning the exact moment they’d slip out of his lips in a whisper.

When this is over—when the rebellion is done—you want Finnick to yourself. It’s what you deserve at the very least, after all that you’ve been through. If it’s up to you, you’d want him to propose once Panem has begun to relax. You don’t want the teasing, or more years of build up. You just want to make him officially yours, forever.

Whatever comes after doesn’t matter. As long as you can say that he’s your husband, and you’ve agreed to love each other eternally. You’ll take what’s thrown your way with grace. You won’t ask for anything ever again. You’ll be especially good, if you could get what you wanted for once.

You step through the treeline into a meadow, letting you get a clear view of what’s ahead. You take a few steps before you come to a stop, staring at the colorful buildings in the distance. While you had tried your best to stay on track for District Two, you eventually came to the conclusion that you’d rather go to the Capitol, like you’d originally planned.

It’s not that far now. If you keep going, you think you’ll make it there sometime tomorrow.

—

Four hours. That’s all the time it took for you to realize that the situation has majorly changed here. The further you travel into the Capitol, the more it grows increasingly obvious. Especially if they’ve turned to violence to keep people out.

It’s a ghost town, which is not what you expected. The streets are usually crowded, with no space on the pastel sidewalk, crawling with people dressed in bright color. You were sure that you’d get spotted in the first minute of stepping foot into the city. It turns out that you had nothing to worry about.

Well, that’s not necessarily true. While you were temporarily relieved to find out that the outer half of the Capitol had been evacuated, you were put back on alert when you figured out why. There are traps placed on almost every street, with exponential damage to the buildings around.

You’ve yet to figure out if it’s the Capitol trying to defend themselves, or the rebels ensuring that if citizens return, they’ll be met with resistance. If you had to guess, you’re leaning more toward the Capitol. The way the traps are placed are methodological—it’s a pattern you’ve seen before. It reminds you a lot of the Gamemakers.

The traps are nearly perfectly hidden, the triggers in plain sight. You fell victim to the first few, but once you started to really notice where they were and what they’d contain, it was so much easier to avoid them. Once in a while, you’ll find yourself trapped, where you have no choice but to set them off. In those cases, you duck and cover, hoping for the best.

With the sun setting, you think it’s about time you call it a night. The last thing you’d want is to miss a sign and get yourself seriously injured. Everything is easier in the daylight. Besides, you covered a lot of ground today, more than you thought you would.

You stop in front of a lime green apartment building with front doors that are made out of frosted glass. You grab the handle, pulling it open to slip inside. The lobby is cool, reflecting the temperature on the outside. It’s very carefully decorated here, with tall green plants in white pots and a small loveseat with a side table. On top of it is a magazine, with Katniss and Peeta on the front cover.

You wander forward, looking at the directory to find a paper taped to the front of it, the words successfully evacuated printed across the middle in bold writing. You lift it up to see beneath it, curious to how many floors there are. There’s five of them, you’ll probably stay on the third floor to keep from going too high.

As you start up the steps, you keep a sharp ear and eye out for noises or cameras that might capture your appearance. Just because this part of the Capitol has been evacuated, doesn’t mean that they’ve surrendered control entirely. For all you know, there’s Peacekeeper bases around here, ready for the signal to round a rebel up.

When you reach the third floor, you choose the unit that’s located next to the fire escape that you step out of. The door is locked, of course. You hold out your knife, staring down at it. It’s dulled considerably because you’ve been using it for everything while you’ve been traveling. This will be its last job.

You stuff the blade into the keyhole, wiggling it from side to side. For a second, nothing happens, and then there’s a click. You twist the knob, pushing in, opening the door to reveal the expensive living room. You pull the knife out but leave the door open as you inspect the apartment from top to bottom. When you’re convinced there’s no one, you pick up a dining room chair, going back to the front door. You shut it, lock it as best as you can, and then shove the chair as stiffly as you can beneath the knob.

The first thing you do is raid the bedroom, tearing it apart for clothes that you’ll be able to wear without looking ridiculous. Once you have an outfit that makes sense, you shower, watching as all the built-up dirt and dried blood mixes in the water, creating a grainy substance at the bottom of the white shower.

You feel so much better when you step out, drying yourself off. You change, letting the bathroom air out while you go through every cabinet you can, searching for the medical supplies. They’re hidden when you do find them, but they’re top-grade, the type of medicine that you’d send to tributes in the arena to get them healed within days.

You read over the ointment’s directions, and then you slather it over the open wound in your arm. Your teeth are grit hard enough that you think you’ll break them, toes curling at the pain it’s causing. It burns as it works its magic, you toss the tube on the counter, leaving to go back to the living room.

The sun has fully set now, there’s barely any light coming through the windows. Still, you shut the curtains, blocking out the rest of it. You head to the kitchen next, digging through the pantry to find countless cans and boxed goods. You pull out a few familiar soups because you’re starving. After you’ve finally located a spoon, you go to sit on the living room floor in the dark to eat.

You could heat it up, you’re sure that it’d be better that way, but you don’t want to risk more than you have to. You open the can, dipping your spoon inside, and raising the creamy substance to your lips. As expected, it’s not very good when it’s cold. Yet, it could be worse.

You manage to get down half the can before an alarm cuts through the stillness, making you jump in surprise. Your hand wraps around the knife before the television set lights up on its own, and you’re immediately greeted with the face of Beetee Latier.

“This is a repeated broadcast from District Thirteen, a reminder of the faces we’ve lost to get here.” He says. “We Remember, do you?”

It cuts to Haymitch Abernathy, sitting in a dark room, wearing a grey jumpsuit. The background is an empty area. To an extent, he looks better than the last time you saw him.

A feminine voice speaks from off-camera. “What do you remember about Cashmere and Gloss Ritchson, the brother and sister duo from District One?”

“They were a bright pair of mentors, even when they were teenagers.” Haymitch says, staring at the camera. “There was nothing the two of them couldn’t do, and it showed time and time again when they performed miracles outside of the arena. Cashmere had an undeniable dedication that was admired by everyone, and Gloss was very hardworking to ensure his tributes got the best possible. It’s a great loss we’ve suffered losing them to the Quarter Quell.”

You squint, eyebrows twitching. Is this a memorial piece? If so, it’s a little funny for someone like Haymitch to speak about Cashmere and Gloss, considering that they were never invited into the alliance. Or thought about twice, beyond the idea of them possibly killing Katniss or Peeta.

The screen fades to black slowly, before Haymitch comes up again. “Brutus, he won a couple years after I did. He was friendly to me after my Games, and had briefly tried to help me after the tragic loss of my family.” He pauses to sigh. “Even though we could never see eye to eye, that did not keep him from drinking with me on occasion.”

Beetee shows up in the next clip, in the same spot that Haymitch was on a stool, only he’s in a wheelchair. Something must’ve happened between the arena and now. You wonder if it has anything to do with the lightning tree.

“Wiress was very intuitive, incredibly intelligent.” He adjusts his glasses, shaking his head. “It may appear that we have lost no one at all, but with her absence, Panem will not function the same. She worked alongside me to create some of the more important Capitol devices, a factor they neglected to think about. We will miss her dearly.”

You finish the can of soup, and you’re pulling on the tab to open the next when his face shows up on screen. Finnick sits on the stool, eyes puffy and a little bloodshot, bags underneath from the lack of sleep. There’s a slouch in his posture, a small length of rope in his fingers that he fiddles with.

“Tell us about (Y/n) (L/n).” The female voice says.

Finnick swallows, voice quiet. “What isn’t there to say?” He asks, looking into the camera. “She was my best friend, and more than that, my girlfriend. She was the kindest person I’ve ever known, always so considerate and patient with everyone around her. How President Snow can take such a gentle life and then brag about it is a mystery.”

Your blood runs cold, suspicions confirmed. So, they have been broadcasting you as dead. They saw an opportunity and took it, wanting to make themselves look more ruthless. When in reality, they haven’t so much as touched you since you escaped.

“I love her and I miss her.” He says, tired eyes filling with tears. An overwhelming urge to reach through the screen to hold him seizes you. “If I had known my time with her would be cut short, I would’ve done everything to protect her.” He breathes shakily. “This is why we must stop the Hunger Games. For loved ones like (Y/n).”

Finnick is gone, once again replaced by Haymitch, who begins to speak about Mags, your mentor. For the first few seconds you stare at the screen, face slowly twisting before it hits you.

Mags is dead.

“What?” You murmur, sitting up.

“Mags was the first mentor to approach me after I won my Games.” Haymitch says. “She was a sweet woman that could see the pain and understood what I was going through. I was the first victor of District Twelve, she was the first face of the Hunger Games. And for as long as I let her, she helped me mentor.”

Of course she did. That’s who Mags is—was. If she saw someone that needed help, she was there. She even approached Johanna after her Games to give her some tips because Johanna was slowly sinking.

“Mags did not deserve to die the way she did.” Haymitch says.

It moves on to the next victor, the woman from Five who was killed in the arena. You try to listen, but it’s difficult. You can feel yourself slowly getting sucked out of your body and into the open air. You’re here, but are you really?

The entirety of Panem thinks you’re dead, and as serious as the situation is—it’s a little funny. If this is the rerun, that means that they’ve been Finnick speak on your death dozens of times. There is not one person left in this country that believes otherwise.

But you’re not dead. You’re here, in one of the many luxurious Capitol apartments, eating someone else’s vegetable soup that they’ve saved. If you had gone to District Two like the girl from Nine told you to, this wouldn’t be the rumor.

For the remaining eight districts, the statements are brought from the victors that now reside in District Thirteen or some faces of previous Capitol citizens. Which you can tell by the way their skin is tinted or the tattoos that line their bodies. There’s even a part where a former Avox sits on the stool, signing while his brother translates.

It wraps up with Finnick talking about Rue and the future that was stolen from her. She was just an innocent child, and the Capitol thought it was right to force her to fight for her life with other older kids, who were much bigger and more skilled. When she should’ve been at home, with her family.

Beetee shows up at the end, hands in his lap. “We Remember.”

The screen dies, but not completely. It glows faintly, illuminating the small area that you’re sitting in. You need to get out of here—out of the Capitol, at least. You should be with Finnick. He needs to know that you’re alive, because the idea of you being dead is killing him. After the two of you fought to be together, you’ve been ripped from his fingertips.

You don’t sleep tonight.

You want to, with the couch being the comfiest thing you’ve laid down on in months. You know that the apartment is secured, you triple-checked everything. No one is coming to get you. This isn’t what keeps you up.

So, you relax in front of the television in the living room, eyelids feeling heavy the moment your head touches the pillow. When they shut, that’s when the problem rises. You’re not tired anymore, even after counting sheep for what feels like hours, your mind is still running.

By the time the sun is peeking through the curtains, you’re ready to leave the apartment with a packed bag. It has the essentials inside like food and water, and the ointment you’ll be using to heal your arm. You’ve grown too attached to the knife you had in the arena, so you find a way to sharpen it, giving you a reason to keep it.

The streets look the same way as they did yesterday, nothing has magically shifted. You head for the train tracks that’ll bring you to a tunnel that runs to District Two. It’s what the girl in Nine called the Nut. It serves several purposes, including training the new Peacekeepers underground, but it’s also the easiest path to get in and out of the Capitol.

While you should’ve gone to District Two straight away, you’re glad you didn’t. If you had, you wouldn’t have known the whole story. You can’t imagine how overwhelming it could’ve been if you came across the rebels and they bombarded you about how you’re alive.

You travel blindly through the streets, dodging and setting off traps, watching the chaos that follows. A few of them are made up of weapons that shoot out once triggered. You manage to react quickly most of the time, but you still come out with a few nicks from blades that are impossibly sharp.

Other traps are made up of insects that are abnormally colored and move in ways that they shouldn’t be capable of. When you see this, you decide that you’re right to say that they’re designed by the Capitol’s Gamemakers, because it makes no logical sense the other way around.

When it appears to be around lunch, you stop to eat in a shop with broken windows, stomach growling. There’s a nice aqua blue couch a few feet away from the door, void of the glass shards that litter the tile floor. You open a can of soup, and dig out a small pack of crackers to have with it.

It’s still disgustingly cold, and yet it could be worse. After what you ate in the woods these last few weeks, anything is a good meal compared to that. Even the crackers seem like a treat.

You set the empty can on the floor when you finish, sitting back against the cushions, staring through the open window. A pair of black birds circle over a nearby alley for a minute. They’re the first sign of life that you’ve seen in this city since you got here, besides the mutts that come out of the traps.

They settle on the roof of a building, side by side, much like the birds at home when they land on power lines. You’re about to look away, when you watch as they both simultaneously tilt their heads, attention set on whatever is in the alley. Your face twists, confused.

As soon as they open their beaks, beginning to screech, you realize that they’re not birds, either. They look to be like jabberjays—a Capitol weapon. You get to your feet, swinging the bag strap over your shoulder. You don’t know how they can see you, because they are definitely not facing your direction. You shouldn’t be in their view.

You take a single step, before you freeze where you are, watching as a group of people dart out from the alleyway. They’re dressed in black, wearing combat gear and carrying weapons. You’re terrified, wondering how the Peacekeepers have found you, until you realize that they are not Peacekeepers. Peacekeepers wear white.

There’s almost a dozen of them, and their leader is pointing his finger down the street to your right, an area you haven’t explored yet. He barks out an order, one of the girls in the middle turns with a gun, shooting at the jabberjay. They flap their wings, rising from where they’re perched, flying around.

Rebels.

Your lips part, wanting to speak, but the words die in your throat. You’re not dressed like they are, you look like you belong in the Capitol because of the clothes you’re wearing. You’re even sitting in an abandoned boutique as if you’re not completely surrounded by danger.

It doesn’t matter, they’re gone before you can work up the courage to speak. You watch as one of the boys toward the end grabs another boy with blonde hair, pulling him along. Neither of them stick out in your mind, and then the first boy turns, looking over his shoulder, right at you.

It’s Finnick. It’s Finnick, and he’s pulling along Peeta.

You move now, trying to follow him. You’re sure he’s seen you, but as you step out of the shop and in front of it, looking at where you’d been standing, you see that it’s too dark to make out much of anything. The awning above the street blocks any sunlight that might be able to get inside.

“Hey,” You call, walking after them. They’re moving too fast, trying to escape the birds, running around the corner. You begin to jog, not wanting to lose them in the maze of Capitol streets.

Even as a team, they move remarkably fast. You’re barely catching Finnick’s bronze hair in glimpses each time they take a turn. They’re losing the birds, though. And even worse, you.

“Hey!” You shout, sprinting down the street. “Wait!”

It grows more narrow, crowded with decorations that citizens couldn’t pull inside before leaving. There’s many places to hide, too many buildings to duck into. You can’t see Finnick anymore, much less hear the stomping of their boots against the asphalt.

When you’re breathing so hard that you’re sure you’re going to throw up your lunch, you slow down, coming to a stop in the middle of the walkway. Your face contorts, hands on your hand.

“Fuck.” You breathe, walking at a slow pace. “Finnick!”

You peer into the local stores, checking behind every bush. You know that eight people would never be able to hide around this area without splitting up. They could’ve gone anywhere.

“Finnick, please!” You stop in the middle of a crossroads, taking your time to look down what each road offers. “It’s me, it’s (Y/n)! I’m alive!” You struggle to breathe normally, whispering, “Please, I’m alive.”

When there’s no appearance, you sigh. The one chance you had, and now he’s gone.

“(Y/n)?” A faraway voice asks.

You turn instantly to face the person, finding Finnick standing at the end of a walkway. He’s not alone. In fact, he’s with the leader of the group, who’s clutching a large gun in his hands, wary. This doesn’t bother you.

“Finnick.” You say, starting toward him. “Oh my god.”

There’s a deep crease between his eyebrows, watching you come closer. “You’re—how are you here?”

You walk straight into his arms, letting him crush you against his body. You grip on tightly to his shoulder, face pressed into the space above the vest. He presses a kiss into your hair once, then twice, and again and again. When he’s had enough, he pulls away, grabbing your face to kiss your lips.

It’s gentle, loving, but quickly turns greedy as he refuses to let you go. And when he does, it’s not because he needs to breathe, it’s because his shoulders are shaking. His face is wet, eyes filled with tears. You bring his forehead to yours, thumbs wiping away the tears.

“It’s okay, Finnick.” You murmur.

“The Capitol said you were dead. They showed your body. How are you—?”

“I escaped out of the arena.” You tell him, stroking his hair. “I’ve been in the trees between the districts the whole time. I got here yesterday.”

He backs away, lips pressed together, tears still sliding down his cheeks. “Of course you did.

You pout, shaking your head. “I cut the tracker out.” You show him your arm, which is looking better this afternoon, but still far from healed. “I’m not sure who’s body you saw, but it wasn’t mine.” You reach for his hands. “I am so, so sorry.”

He pulls you back into his body, hugging you. “You’re alive, (Y/n). That’s all that matters to me.” He frowns. “I’m not leaving you again.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

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thaly-does · 2 months ago

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jayvik Hogwarts au headcanons:

Viktor is muggleborn, or so he thinks due to the fact he grew up in a muggle orphanage. Jayce is a half-blood on his father's line, but he spent his childhood in a magical village. Jayce starts taking Muggle Studies for Viktor, but quits early as Viktor shows no desire to keep a connection to the muggle world.

They both get sorted to Ravenclaw. Viktor and Jayce share a dorm cause in Ravenclaw students sleep in pairs!!! They usually use one bed though, cause the other one is for books and other study equipment. They stop sleeping together around the 5th year because it starts to feel... Different. More intimate. They start sleeping together again during the 7th year soon as they start dating.

Everyone is certain they've been dating since the 2nd year.

Viktor has an incurable magical sickness that progresses slightly over time. Jayce spends all his free time with Viktor every time Viktor is in the hospital wing - and that's often, mostly filling him in on studying or reading out loud.

They play wizard chess like... a lot. Jayce gifted a really nice set to Viktor on their first Christmas in Hogwarts. Half the floor in their dorm room is covered in shattered pieces they were too busy to clean up. Viktor is constantly stepping on them, but he doesn't mind.

Jayce stays in the castle with Viktor during all the holidays first couple of years, later they both go to Jayce's home to spend the break there. Viktor also spends last two or three whole summer breaks at Jayce's.

From each visit to Hogsmeade Jayce brings Viktor something he thinks Viktor would like. Viktor isn't allowed to visit (apart from not having permission from the orphanage he keeps getting detention).

Jayce studies Ancient runes (it's one of his favourite subjects). Viktor studies it too from 3rd to 5th year, but doesn't go further. He keeps taking Numerology and Astronomy though.

Last two years they take Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology and Alchemy together. Jayce takes DADA yet Vik doesn't.

Both Viktor and Jayce study Alchemy and they're the only students in their course to do so. It's really... private studying there.

Viktor starts visiting the Restricted section really early on, like 3rd year. It's permitted cause he's so smart. (Will it backfire who knows)

Jayce plays quidditch as a chaser. Later he's made captain. Viktor pretends to hate quidditch (and he does hate flying), but he comes to every training session and every match to root for Jayce. He says it's because he "likes reading outdoors".

Jayce has the reputation of The perfect student. Viktor is the student who asks the "wrong" questions, tries too advanced spells too early and does dangerous experiments. Jayce tries to cover for him but no one ever believes him (even if they truly did it together).

Jayce is made prefect and then the Head boy, although he abuses this power a lot to let Viktor do whatever he wants no matter the rules. Also to take baths together during their last Hogwarts year.

Viktor likes to brew potions in their dorm rooms. One day he tells Jayce that room just stinks of him (it's really because currently Viktor is brewing amortentia). That's how they start dating.

Jayce invents the cure for Viktor's illness two years after graduation.

#jayvik #jayce x viktor #arcane jayce #jayce arcane #viktor arcane #arcane viktor #jayvik au #jayvik headcanons

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crackedpumpkin · 2 years ago

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|| ɪᴛ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴋɪꜱꜱ || ᴅᴀɴɴʏ ᴘʜᴀɴᴛᴏᴍ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ||

a/n: he's so stupid. I love him.

It started with a kiss.

Then it snowballed into feelings.

It was a typical day at school, with your friends Sam and Tucker hanging around your locker while waiting for Danny.

“Look. I’m just saying it seems like you and Danny have been hanging out a lot more than usual these days.” Sam smirks, and you raise a brow in response.

“That’s because we have a science project due next month,” You deadpan, rummaging through the various textbooks in your locker. Tucker eyes the mess in your locker with disdain, hands just itching to organize it for you.

You smack his hand away with a playful scowl. “My locker, my rules.”

“But it’s a mess!” He protests.

“Correction: it’s an organized mess.”

“Whatever. Just let me know when you’re ready to see the light and change the error of your ways,” Tucker scoffs, leaning against the locker. You shrug it off, directing your attention back to Sam, who’s still skeptical of your answer.

“There’s nothing between us. Besides, you’ve seen the way he looks at Paulina.” You say calmly, playing Jenga with the carelessly stuffed files and textbooks. You hum in thought before finally selecting one of the files and ever so carefully pulling it out.

The tower of horrors wobbles slightly, and you wince. You barely manage to take it out without everything else falling, shutting the locker door with a relieved sigh.

“Yeah, but that’s Paulina. She’s just evil incarnate that the boys can’t seem to look past. But the way he looks at you is different.” Sam points out. You prop your textbooks and files on one arm with a huff, your free hand on your hip.

“He doesn’t look at me differently,” You laugh it off. “If anything, he only looks at me in admiration since I’m tutoring him in math.”

“Wow.” You turn to Tucker, who’s shaking his head with a baffled laugh, “You must’ve hit your head on the wall of denial you’re walking into.”

Okay. This is getting a little weird now, you suppose. “Why’re you guys so adamant on this crazy theory that I like Danny?” You ask. Is it so hard to believe that the both of you are just friends? Sure, maybe the boy in question is a little cute and can be clueless in an adorable way when you’re tutoring him, but that didn’t mean you gave him special treatment or anything.

“Uh- You never offered to tutor me.”

“Sam, you literally got an A on the last test.”

“You didn’t offer it to me either!”

“Tucker, you won an award for your science project last week. Look, guys,” You sigh, an amused smile on your lips as you look at the both of them struggling to find a retort, “You have to admit it. I’m not giving Danny any special treatment because I don’t have a crush on him.”

You spot Danny entering the hallway, his unkept bed hair a sight to behold. You hide a chuckle, smiling warmly when he sees the three of you. He offers a small wave, though his eyes linger on you for a little longer than Tucker and Sam.

You grin slightly, pointing at your hair in reference to his own with questioning eyes. He scoffs playfully, rolling his eyes with a charming smile and a shrug as if saying, What can you do?

He stops a short distance from the three of you, opens his locker and begins to pull out the materials needed for the day ahead. You watch him fondly for a moment, only to register Sam and Tucker’s mischievous grins. You blink, eyes flitting back and forth between the two.

“What?”

“Are you sure you don’t like him?”

“Yes, very sure.” You roll your eyes with another sigh.

Sam and Tucker exchange a look, having a silent conversation with mere nods and raised brows before they turn back to you. You look at them cluelessly, waiting for one of them to speak. “Well, if you’re so sure…Then a quick game of truth or dare won’t hurt,” Tucker suggests casually.

You ponder over it for a moment, agreeing with a simple nod. “I pick truth.”

“Do you think about Danny often?”

“I have to. He’s hopeless when it comes to biology. When I think of questions to quiz him with, I have to predict how he’ll respond.”

Tucker huffs, looking at Sam. It’s your turn.

“So, truth or dare?” Sam asks.

“Truth.” You cross your arms. You’re not risking anything with the two of them bonding over this insatiable need to see you confess to a crazy theory that isn’t true.

“Do you think Danny’s attractive?”

You hesitate. Damn it. They got you there.

“O-objectively, yes. I mean, he’s reasonably attractive. It’s not like he’s ugly, because he’s not. I wouldn’t say I don’t find him attractive because I do, but not like that-” You stutter, groaning once you see Sam’s victorious grin. You drag a hand down your face covering your eyes for a minute as you register just how utterly unconvincing any of that was.

“This is why neither of you will be in the will.”

“I was in the will??” Tucker gasps, placing a flattered hand across his chest.

“Meh. I always knew I was in it. I’ll get back into it eventually.” Sam shrugs, silently passing the baton of questions to Tucker.

“Alright, if you really don’t like him, then pick Dare,” Tucker says smugly, his eyes practically pushing forth the tempting challenge. It’s bait, and you know it.

And you take it.

“Okay then,” You straighten your back, giving him a defiant look. “I pick dare.”

He hums in thought, an idea forming in his mind. He cackles, rubbing his hands together. You gulp. This won’t end well for you.

“I dare you…to kiss Danny. On the lips, right now.”

You bite back a venom-filled curse, hands curling into fists when he specifies the loophole you’re about to exploit. A kiss on the cheek? Sure, no problem. A kiss on the hand? Even better!

But a kiss? On the lips, no less??

You’re doomed.

“You can’t go back now,” he crows in delight, Sam nodding enthusiastically. “Yeah, it’s like, the rules. Besides, if you don’t do it, then y’know….It means you like him.” She adds with a smirk.

Yeah, there’s no way she’s ever getting back in the will after this.

You glare at them both, shoving your textbooks into Tucker’s hands and taking a deep breath. You walk towards Danny, each step only heightening the thudding of your heartbeat. Your lips are suddenly dry, eyes trained solely on the boy just a few feet away.

The chatter in the hallway fades into background noise. The only thing you register is the echoing ba-dump of your heartbeat with each shaky breath. Are you really going through with this? Do you really have to prove something that you already know? What are you even thinking?

You shake your head. It’s just Danny. Danny, with his cheeky grin and kind gestures, always grabbing tiramisu for you when he passes by the grocery store on the way to your place for tutoring lessons. It’s just Danny, with his cute chuckles and easy grins sent your way once your eyes meet.

Yeah, there’s no way you like him.

He’d understand, wouldn’t he? After all, it’s just a dare set forth but Tucker. He knows how Tucker is.

This’ll be easy as pie.

You take a deep breath, oddly calm as you approach him. You tap his shoulder. He turns, a relaxed smile on his lips once he sees that it’s just you. “Hey,” He greets, nudging your side, “What’s got you looking so uneasy? Did you not get your ice cream the other night?” He teases, referring to the conversation over text you shared with him after you found out you were out of ice cream and tried to get your brother to help you buy some on the way back.

His smile falters when you don’t answer, starting to grow worried. You look up at him calmly, your hand on your hip as you regard him with a half-smile. “Danny. Whatever happens, just know that it’s Tucker’s fault.”

“Okay….?” He nods, though it’s unsure.

Good. Now you can prove them wrong. You take another step closer, your body barely brushing against his chest. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly, suddenly aware of the lack of distance.

Before you can chicken out and pretend it all never happened, your fingers gently grab the collar of his shirt, tugging him down and pressing your lips to his. His soft cry of surprise is cut short by the sudden kiss, Tucker and Sam both gawking at your boldness. They never expected you to actually follow through with it.

Your cheeks are on fire, Danny’s hand automatically holding your waist while his other hand tenderly cups your cheek. Your nose presses against the crook of his cheek and nose, right above his soft lips that move gently, unsurely against yours.

Your grip loosens, a jolt of ecstasy running down your spine when his thumb caresses your cheek. You can’t tell if you’re actually breathing or not, but you must be if you’re still kissing him. You catch his bottom lip between the edges of your front teeth, letting it slip through with a shaky breath.

You finally pull away, eyes dazed, and cheeks flushed a crimson red. You let go of his collar, Danny leaning back with stars in his eyes as he processes the past few seconds that felt like euphoric hours.

Your chest rises and falls, panting softly as you catch your breath. The hand that cupped your cheek so tenderly had dropped to your waist, cool fingers grazing against the bare skin that peeks out below your top, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Your eyes can’t help but linger on how his lips are a perfect dark pink, beautifully swollen from your kiss. You step back, running your hand through your hair with a cough.

“I told you. Blame Tucker.” You manage to breathe out, your heart racing a mile a minute. You take a step back, gently removing his hands.

“Wh-what?” He’s still dazed, unable to string words together into a comprehensive sentence. He watches you leave, his eyes trained on your figure as you ease through the crowd to your first class of the day.

“Wow.” He’s startled back to his senses when Tucker approaches with Sam in tow, the former patting his shoulder with an impressed nod.

“Didn’t think she actually had the guts.” Sam comments.

“Okay, what’s going on? Why’d she suddenly-” Danny cuts himself off with a sudden cough, eyes staring blankly at his hand that held you just moments before.

“Did you like it?”

Danny huffs a bewildered exhale past his lips, slumping against his locker with a slight smile. Sam gives a low whistle as she waves a hand before his blank gaze. “He’s broken.” She confirms after he doesn’t answer her question.

“Maybe he needs another kiss to pull him back to Planet Earth,” Tucker suggests cheekily. The mere mention, however, is enough for Danny to snap back to his senses.

“What’re you talking about?”

“That’s not important right now. What’s important is whether or not you liked it.” Sam dismisses his cluelessness with a single wave of her hand. He takes a moment to think, blinking rapidly as he recalls the feeling of your lips on his.

“I…I guess I did.”

— — — — —

You sigh, placing your phone screen down after double-checking the time Danny would arrive for his scheduled tutoring lesson. You grab your empty plate, walk to the basin and start washing it.

It’d been a week since you last saw Danny, avoiding him in the hallways and even during lunch. After what you did in the hallway, could you blame yourself? Absolutely not. You did, however, text Tucker and Sam that you were going to be busy with family commitments and successfully avoided lunch with them as well by using your projects and assignments as an excuse.

You had instead writhed away in your bed, wrestling with the conflicting emotions in your heart and the thoughts running wild in your mind. You didn’t not like the kiss. It was…nice. You often found yourself subconsciously touching your lips, recalling how soft his lips were when pressed against yours. He smelled good, like the cologne you bought him for last year’s birthday.

That’s when you realized you were down bad.

It took you three days to finally accept your feelings.

You like Danny. As in, like like him.

So you did what any other girl would do when faced with new arising emotions directed at one of your closest friends.

Deflect and avoid anything and everything that had to do with him.

So that’s what you’ve been doing for the past few days, continuously leaving conversations halfway just to avoid him. It’s not like you could help it. Your heart always quickened its pace whenever he was even around, leaving you breathless each time.

But one thing you couldn’t avoid was your tutoring sessions with Danny. Try as you might, you knew he’d need help with the upcoming test. Now he’s on his way over, and you’re busy panicking.

You quickly place the now clean dish on the dish rack, moving to grab some snacks and water to bring upstairs to your room. Your hands are full, using your arm to hold the jug of water and your hand holding two glasses. Your other hand is busy balancing the abundant snacks in your grasp when the doorbell rings.

You carefully make your way over, opening the door to see Danny in front of you with a small plastic bag. “Come in,” You greet him with an awkward smile. He eyes the multitude of items in your hands, immediately reaching out and taking the jug and glasses from your hands before walking up the stairs to your room.

You follow with a grateful smile, closing the door behind you and setting the snacks on the small table in the middle of the room. “So,” Danny begins, sitting on the carpet and opening his bag, “What’ll we be working on today, miss tutor?”

You grab notebooks on your desk, placing them down along with some stationary. “Just some revision since the topics that’ll come out tomorrow is chunky in content.”

You see him hesitate in the corner of your eye. Nervousness fills the hollow pit of your stomach, praying desperately he doesn’t notice how jittery you are. “Sounds good,” He finally says after a moment with a half smile and shrug.

You sit down opposite him, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear so it won’t get in the way while you teach him about Cells and DNA. You notice him staring, raising a brow in curiosity. He raises his brows in response with a playful smile.

You brush it off as just another habit of his, shrugging and opening your textbook. “Okay, so we’ll start with something simple. Do you still remember what I taught you from our last session?”

He pulls out his notebook, flipping through the pages with a blank grin. “I think so?”

You grin. “We’ll start from the beginning.” You crack your knuckles with an excited glint in your eyes, ready to unleash a whole torrent of information on his adorably clueless self.

“So, you know about blood, right?”

“I am familiar with the term,” He hums jokingly, twirling his pencil. He leans his cheek on his hand with his elbow propped on the table, listening to your every word.

You roll your eyes at his response, cracking a small smile. “Very funny,” You reply sarcastically, Danny shrugging as he opens one of the snacks. He grabs a pair of clean chopsticks you’ve already set on the table, uses it to grab one of the crackers and starts to eat.

“Anyway,” You continue, “Red blood cells contain hemoglobin. It’s a protein that carries oxygen from your lungs to the rest of your body. Different types of cells in your blood, like white blood cells, help act as your body’s defence against infections and viruses. There’re different types, but only two are being tested for the quiz. Lymphocytes and Monocytes.”

“Oh, I remember that!”

“You do?” You look up in surprise, recalling the boy dozing in class during that particular lesson.

“Yeah, I remember thinking Mr. Lance was being Mono-tonous,” He grins. You press your lips together in an unimpressed roll of your eyes, leaning over and shoving his arm playfully as he chuckles at your reaction.

“What?” He protests, “I’m only telling the truth! Come on, Miss Tutor, get back to tutoring already.” He gives you an exaggerated frown with a shake of his head, your jaw dropping in an offended gasp.

“Excuse me. You’re lucky I even made the time for you.” You shoot back.

“Yeah, I’m glad you did. I missed you the last few days.”

You pause, eyes widening at his words. He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, Tucker, Sam and I missed you.” He clarifies. Your heart sinks in your chest at this, pursing your lips as you hum.

“I’m sorry, I had a lot of…family commitments.” You say softly, eyes focused on the notebook in front of you. You don’t dare to look at him, sensing his gaze on you.

“That’s okay,” He says after a moment, his voice warm and kind, just like always. “I’m just glad you’re okay now.”

You feel a prick of guilt, closing your eyes and wishing that you didn’t lie. But how could you confess that so readily, when you aren’t even sure of how Danny feels? You manage a nod, your hair shifting and falling past your ear, obstructing your vision momentarily.

“So, what’s this about?” You look up to see him pointing to a graph in the textbook, his expression lost as he tries to understand the explanation written below.

“That’s a graph for increased red blood cell count over five years.” You start to explain.

“But why’s it so high?”

“Science.” You shrug. “I mean, causes are usually either smoking, kidney disease, alcoholism….” The words die in your throat when you feel warm fingers brushing the hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. You look up with a start, Danny’s entire body stiffening as soon as he registers his fingers brushing against your bare skin.

Your cheeks instantly warm, aflame with a fierce heat threatening to spread across your face and neck. He jerks his hand back with wide eyes, his face mirroring your exact expression.

“I- uh, i-it just looked like you were having trouble seeing your notebook, is all,” He stammers out, crossing his arms and tucking his hands under his elbows as if he’s trying to glue them there.

“T-thanks.” You look back down, your heart racing. Your breaths stutter, eyes trained on your handwriting. Did he do it on purpose? Why would he? It’s not like he likes you, right?

Does he like you???

Oh god. Oh GOD. If that’s true, even if there’s the slightest possibility…

You bite your lip, considering your options. You already know you like him way more than you’re supposed to, plus you’ve already kissed. If it counted as your first kiss, that is.

What if he’s treating you as a friend, and you’re the one overthinking every touch and every word? What if he’s acting normal, and you’re the one that’s jumping to all these conclusions?

You take your calculator, trying to calm yourself down by typing in an equation to show Danny the difference in years and how fast the rate of increased red blood cells can be instead of dwelling on such thoughts.

But what if it’s true? What if he does like you? Like, like you, like you. What if he feels the same way you do? Would he say something? What if he’s waiting for you to say something? What if he wants to talk about the kiss?

You’re interrupted from your overthinking (which is incredibly rude, but you’d let it slide since it’s Danny.)

“So… I was wondering. Do you maybe wanna catch a movie this weekend?”

“Sounds good,” You hum, frowning at your calculator when you realize you’ve made a mistake, “What time do we meet Sam and Tucker?” You ask, scribbling down the right answer after correcting the equation.

“About that….I was thinking maybe Sam and Tucker wouldn’t be there. It’d just be you and me.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat, looking up in surprise. His eyes are hopeful, a shy blush dusting his cheeks as he waits for your response. “Sure.” You agree, looking back down at your notebook in an attempt to hide the radiant smile on your lips that you can’t seem to wipe off your face.

You hear him breathe a sigh of relief, a fluttery feeling in your stomach as you sneak a look at him. His cute smile makes your heart skip a beat, and when he catches your eyes, he grins. You clear your throat, averting your eyes with a flustered heat spreading across your cheeks.

Your mind is blank, filled with a single euphoric thought.

HelikesmeohmygodHeLikesMeOHMYGODHELIKESME-

#danny phantom x reader #danny phantom x y/n #danny phantom x you #danny phantom #danny fenton x reader #danny fenton x you #danny fenton x y/n

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mintjuliee · 5 months ago

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Lin and Suyin - On Why Sometimes Love Means Saying "No"

In cases where you are raising a child, caring about them can often mean saying "no" or presenting as the opposition. This is particularly true when the child in question is displaying harmful behaviors.

The most blatant example of this between the Beifong sisters is the flashback in Old Wounds, wherein you see Suyin skipping school with a couple of other kids— a bag of items that they have likely stolen spilling over on a coffee table.

Teenage Lin confronts Suyin with a blatant look of disproval. Her inquires are met with:

"Oh no, are you going to tell mom? It's not like she is going to care."

ERRRT. Back up. What is really going on here?

A cry for attention.

It is not normal for a twelve year-old child to say that their mom is not going to care about them engaging in dangerous behaviors. I would even argue that the most important sentiment behind that statement is "she isn't going to care."

And what we see in the next flashback a few years later proves that Suyin was and is, in fact, testing the waters. She is now driving a getaway vehicle after a robbery. Her behavior is doomed to escalate, because it is not being met with any parental opposition.

How far can I take it? When will it matter?

This is the part where a parent should be stepping in to intervene. They should be trying to figure out what is lacking in the child's life or what they are seeking. However, what we witness instead is that this burden/role has fallen to Lin.

Mind you, in the first flashback Lin herself is a teenager. She lacks the experience or maturity to be dealing with a child displaying these behaviors, which is shown when she escalates the situation by insulting the two boys. And yet, she still tells Suyin :

"Su stop. You have so much potential. You're ruining your life."

In the second flashback, her words are:

"I'm not letting you get away with this." "So, once again, Su gets to do whatever she wants, and there are no consequences."

Lin is acting as a psuedo-parent in the absence of Toph. She cares about her younger sister and is attempting to show this by drawing a line. Suyin is lashing out against Lin like she would an authority figure.

Toph in this situation, I believe, would not be that concerned with Suyin's behavior, because she herself engaged in rebellious behavior as a kid. The key difference— and what I think Toph failed to realize in raising Suyin— is that she herself grew up with extremely strict parents from the get go. In Toph's case, breaking away from them and finding her independence was key to her growth. It was a good thing.

This is completely different from a kid being raised and allowed to do what they want from the beginning like Suyin. The lack of parental guidance and attention as a foundation produced an entirely different issue than what Toph faced.

"We didn't have a normal childhood. Neither of us knew our fathers, and Toph was always busy being Chief of Police. Because mom grew up in such a strict house, she gave us all the freedom in the world, hoping we'd figure out our own paths."

"That sounds like a good thing."

"And in a way, it was. But we both ended up fighting for mom's attention. Lin followed in her footsteps and became a cop. I was more of a rebel."

Bingo. Here we have Suyin admitting her rebellious behavior was attention-seeking towards her mom. Unfortunately, due to Toph being often absent due to her job, it would seem this behavior often went most noticed by Lin.

An older/younger sibling tale as old as time.

Lin and Suyin were both acting in accordance with the hands they were dealt. They were young. Mistakes were made. Lin should never have had to act as an opposition to her sister's behavior as a teenager; she should have been able to act like a kid herself. Suyin should not have been left to her own devices to the point where she is acting out to seek attention.

So, what do we arrive at? Compelling backstory for two middle-aged women, who present as awesome, strong characters 😎 Something rare in media, animation being more scarce. I love them so much. Almost as much as they love each other.

#lin beifong #suyin beifong #legend of korra #lok #had this in the drafts for a while lol #meta

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willthespy · 5 months ago

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The Nico is extroverted and Will is introverted argument is both right and wrong depending on what your definition of both terms is and I have to talk about it. I agree mostly with the original post that claimed this, so just listen and bear with me.

Most people categorize extroverts as ‘social’ and introverts as less so, but in reality (depending on what theory) that is not really true. Because I do agree Nico was a social kid who still has the social skills, but has dampened it down because of his own insecurities and the insecurities he’s been fed due to his parentage. Then for Will, he’s got some solitude and gloominess in him for sure (another introvert stereotype), but shows himself as the (I don’t know what word I want to use for it, but I’ll go with) happy head counselor, because he ‘had to be.’

As for the definition I prefer to use, it’s in fact a bit different. Note that it isn’t a black or white thing, and that you can’t be 100% introverted or 100% extroverted. That’s the same as saying you’re 100% autistic, because all of these terms are all created and used to categorize, and you can’t perfectly fit a category. There’s no such thing as ‘perfection.’

Now, it’s been a while since I’ve properly read about cognitive functions, but as a Feeler type myself, I know most about the different types of ‘Feelers’ to say that Nico has dominant introverted feeling (Fi) and Will uses dominant extroverted feeling (Fe).

While Nico has shown to have social skills, he definitely looks to be a Fi user. He knows who he is (again, not 100% - it isn’t black or white) and what he wants and he doesn’t really base his values on others. I think why a lot of characters with Fi are ‘emo’ or ‘weird’ is because they’re authentic to themselves and don’t bend themselves to anyone else’s will that easily. Now, we all know Nico can be a stubborn prick, but we also can see that in PJO he corrects Minos on who he is. His whole thing there is him being ‘the Ghost King.’ He knows he is, he doesn’t need to be told he is that, he just does what feels real to him.

Also that one scene in ToA (I believe) where Nico is very blunt towards Lester/Apollo and where Will tells him he needs to work on his social skills or whatever? Yeah, that shows their differences in Fi vs Fe. Nico focuses on his inner needs and values (which actually aren’t selfish at all, but important to the entire universe in this case), while Will knows the bluntness isn’t socially acceptable (as far as he knows) and, albeit jokingly, tries to control his outer world to bring it to ‘harmony.’

Note that Nico also has had selfish inner values, wants, and needs. For example, trying to revive his sister. But Will was also selfish when he tried to keep Nico away from the Trogs for example. Fi and Fe aren’t inherently selfish, but their different types might make them make selfish decisions.

Will and Nico both are self-sacrificial, but in different ways. Nico does it for his own internal values and because he feels he’s not wanted anyway, and Will seems to do it because he seems to feel the need to be strong and have an image of himself up for everyone else, even if that means putting his own needs second to his own.

Will also showed some eagerness to absorb and ‘fix’ Nico’s negative emotions in a way. He’s a healer, it’s what he does, right? But meanwhile he struggles to accept or even acknowledge his own ‘darkness.’ (Yes, I’ll talk about this as long as I’ll live. I won’t stop. Ever.)

Also very important. Nico was way more accepting of the Troglodytes than Will. And you might say, “well, isn’t that an extroverted trait?” And I’d tell you: “that depends on your definition!” But in terms of Fi/Fe, it’s Nico who’s showing introverted feeling here. He doesn’t judge, as long as they (the Trogs) don’t go against his core values.

Will, my dumb, dumb, dumb son (note: I don’t actually think he’s dumb), whom I love very much, shows Fe here. He’s quicker to judge because of his sense and knowledge of social norms, but also because of his care for his loved ones. I don’t know, I think both are true arguments as to why he was against the idea of the Trogs.

Also this is why I think it wasn’t too out of character for Will to get all bitchy and negative about the Underworld. And also not why Nico got upset about it, because Will being against his ‘home’, went against his inner self. Boo! Fe vs Fe argument! Take that liberals! (joke)

In short:

Nico is the Fi user. He’s authentic, stubborn (in defense of his own values), actually attracts misfits - because he’s not as quick to judge people who go against social norms - as he doesn’t conform to social norms himself. He’s passionate and emotional (very emotion-driven). If I remember correctly, he also shows to solve problems by talking about it, rather than just cheering anyone up.

When he was ‘unhealthy’, he also retreated from society and went into solitude + lashed out. He also strictly followed his internal beliefs that he was unwanted and all that, while Will claimed that he was the only one thinking that.

Will is the Fe user. He is a healer and nurturer, but neglects his own inner self. He is externally friendly, but can be a bitch. (Sorry not sorry fellow Will lovers.) He can definitely be a bit controlling and less expressive for the sake of his outside world and is also more aware of what he thinks are social norms and cares about them more. (As is seen in ToA and TSATS).

I checked PDB (not the best source, but a source nonetheless) right after this, and people seem to agree. Nico is categorized as INFP (Fi > Ne > Ti > Se), while Will is voted to be ENFJ (Fe > Ni > Te > Si). Thank you for listening to my TED-talk.

#oof controversial post? again? on my solangelo centric page??? yes #i NEED to talk about this i swear its like an itch i need to discuss #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #pjo #pjoverse #pjo fandom #pjo hoo toa tsats #pjo hoo #pjo hoo toa #the trials of apollo #rrverse #riordanverse #solangelo analysis

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evangelic-echo · 10 months ago

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ℭ𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔞𝔩 𝔓𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱

Part 3:

Part 2<

You were new to heaven, that part was obvious. Compared to the others you stood out, looking a lot different from the rest.

You were made to fit in more with the humans, God's newest creations. You had only one pair of wings instead of three, making the clear distinction that you were different from the rest. Due to your purpose being taking care of humanity, your appearances were made to fit in more with the humans than your fellow angels. All the other angels had such unique features while you were given boring human characteristics to adhere better to them.

The few, early moments of life was great. Living in harmony with the few angels that had been created along side with you. One of the being Lucifer Morningstar, known to be as God's favourite. However, you knew him to be your greatest friend up here in heaven. Since the moment of your creation he's been there, showing you the ropes and being an overall helping hand with your duties and responsibilities.

Today was the day our Father had announced the creation of humans. They were mortal beings created by the soil of the Earth, residing in The Garden of Eden. As you walked with Lucifer, all you could do was wonder about how things were going to change with the new mortals being now your new priority.

"Birdie?"

You looked to your left to see Lucifer looking at you with a longing look on his face.

"I thought I told you to stop calling me that Luci?"

"You just remind me of a Bird that's all! I love those two wings of yours."

You brought your focus back to the girl before of you, cursing those pitiful thoughts away.

"Hi! It's so so soo nice to meet you! My name is Charlotte but you can call be Charlie, I'm so happy that Heaven is giving us another chance!"

Being preoccupied with your own thoughts, you hadn't noticed that the young woman had gotten up from her seat to greet you. Now that she was more closer to you, you took note of her other features you hadn't noticed before. Like her height for example, she definitely gotten that end of the stick from her mother.

Another thing you noticed is that while greeting you, she kept both her hands behind her back, not showing any effort to properly greet you with a handshake.

Rude...

Deciding to look past it, you extend your hand towards her instead as you introduced yourself. However, Charlie instead looks down to your arm, hesitating to reciprocate.

"Not to be rude, but uh, Adam tried the same to thing during my first meeting with him."

"Excuse me?!"

You would have never of thought that on this Saturday morning, instead of being at home, watering your plants and chilling on your bed. Your instead dealing with Lucifer's daughter, who he apparently didn't think to teach her basic manners.

"I know you're a hologram, you're up there in Heaven while I'm down here in Hell."

Now you're even more confused. Hologram? Was she not up here in Heaven?

Impulsively, you reach for Charlie's arm, but instead of you grabbing onto her scarlet red sleeve, your hand just falls through while her arm glitches out. You call out to the Cherub as you exit the room, seeking answers as to why it was crucial for you to take part in this fancy ass facetime where you essentially spend your whole day in a room alone, because the only other person you'd be speaking to isn't even physically in the room with you.

"You called me Ma'am?"

"Please tell me why both mine and the princesses time is being wasted by making us communicate through these shitty holograms?!"

"Heaven has always communicated with Hell this way Miss. I- uh, can't do anything about that. Sera believes that..."

You started to tune out the Cherub as he mentioned the Seraphim's name, you could care less about whatever the little creature was preaching about. Turning your back towards the angel, you opened a portal to the embassy down in Hell. Your not against technology or whatever, but using holograms instead of basic face to face communication was just too much for you.

"What are you doing?!! Creating a portal to Hell is absolutely unacceptable! If you step through that Sera will..."

You stepped through the portal without a second thought, cutting off the Cherub.

"I didn't think you were coming back"

Looking around you noticed that the embassy here in Hell looked exactly the same one back up in Heaven. If it wasn't for the fact that you could feel a physical difference between here and Heaven, you would've thought you opened a portal to the meeting room you were previously in.

"So sorry for the hiccup dear, I just prefer to speak face to face when it comes to matters such as this."

"Right! Of course, I completely agree. Well- uhm, it's nice to 'officially' meet you"

Without hesitation this time she extends her hand in your direction and you, of course, take her hand into yours, reciprocating her greeting. Internally taking back the initial thoughts you had of her only a few seconds ago.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too Charlotte"

You were sitting on one end on the unusually large table while Charlie was sat on the other, ranting incredibly fast while pitching her Hazbin Hotel to you. You absolutely did not have the heart to tell her this meeting was scheduled to talk about the shit show of the recent extermination. You also had to admit that this hotel had caught your interest after speaking to that Sir Pentious guy. But looking at Charlie now as she tells you about this project so passionately brought you back to those old memories of you and Lucifer as he would tell you about his plans for the Garden of Eden with that same passion and ambition, which honestly weighed down on your heart a lot more than you'd like to admit.

"Even with the destruction of our hotel during the exterminations, it allowed us to undergo huge renovations which have led to the Hotel looking the best it ever has since opening!"

"With all due respect Charlie, but the exterminations were literally yesterday. It's hard to believe you constructed a whole hotel after it got obliterated in a single night."

"With the help with mine and my Dad's magic, as well as the rest of the residents, we were able to build the Hotel from scratch! With even more rooms and wayy better infrastructure! If only I could prove to you how amazing it looks now! I may have a picture on my phone if you give me a second..."

As she pulled out her phone, humming and muttering to herself as she was browsing for said photo. You got up from your seat and walked towards the door, realising that she could in fact show you the new and improved hotel. Noticing that you were walking towards the exit, she lowers her phone as she focuses her gaze on you instead.

"Hey, uhh- I found the picture!"

"Or you could show me your newly renovated hotel now, in person. It's nearby is it not?"

"Really?! Yeah it's a few blocks down but I didn't think you'd want to venture further than this room."

Charlie did have a point, walking out and around on the streets of hell wasn't a great idea considering you weren't from around here. It's possible that the majority wouldn't be able to notice, but it takes just one demon to notice your energy being very different than the traditional hell spawn. But that should be fixed with a quick portal.

"Oh that's no problem at all. Although, I do have certain expectations for when I'm there."

Charlie, evidently excited to show off her hotel to someone new, nodded her head in response as she waited for you to continue.

"I want to see Lucifer."

A/N: It's been sooo long since I posted and I lowkey missed sitting down and just writing. ALSO THANK YOU ALL FOR THE FOLLOWS🫶. The taglist has significantly grown as well. If you want to be added just feel free to just comment and I’ll add you to it on the next update, which I promise is coming soon!!

Taglist: @alientee @froggybich @simbalioness @elementwind91 @tsukiko26 @weirdgirlislonely

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thestarswillguide · 4 days ago

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So apparently all this time I hadn't noticed how the circle around the star on Aaravos's chest had switched directions until I read this post.

This is odd. How even before anything bad happened with him and Leola, the circle around his star was in the downward direction, when it's supposed to be facing upward, but then changed direction obviously due to Leola's death (and I've always believed that his star turning black was because he lost her: his one deep truth). This was clearly no mistake, and I came up with a few possibilities I feel might explain this:

1) Aaravos had always been different from the other Startouch elves. Not just mentally and emotionally, but even his birth. I believe in the tdp art book it said that Startouch mages are extremely rare, with only one being born in generations. Aaravos is part of that rare few, and I haven't seen any others besides him. Perhaps one being born a Star mage means their symbol is also different.

2) It's because of Leola. We still don't know the details of her birth, but I've always thought her constellation or whatever was connected to Aaravos's, so maybe when she was born, they complemented each other somehow. Maybe the symbols on their chest are like the yin and yang symbol, one side facing one way and the other facing the opposite direction. Also, this is random, but y'know how the tdp creators like to reference to Avatar in the show (like the Callum and Sokka boomerang moment)? Aaravos's VA also did Koh's voice in Avatar. In the last episode of s1 (Avatar), Koh was talking to Aang about the ocean/sea spirit and the moon spirit; how they were like good and evil, push and pull, etc. Maybe, just maybe, the creators made Aaravos and Leola to be like those spirits, and without one of the two's soul/spirit, it would cause an imbalance, thus the circle around Aaravos's star changing direction.

3) (I like this one a lot btw) Aaravos purposefully made the circle downward as a way to set himself apart from the other (arrogant) Startouch elves. A personal decision of his regarding his identity compared to them. I think it's possible for him to have changed it with magic.

4) I also thought another possibility could be what @kradogsrats said about Aaravos's descent to Xadia. I was thinking maybe being down in Xadia or away from the stars for so long made the symbol turn upside down, but this doesn't really seem accurate cause then Leola's probably would've been like his, whether she was born from the heavens or in Xadia.

But again, the first two possibilities could be wrong since Aaravos's symbol seems to be facing upward here, and I assume this is him before he descended to Xadia:

—

Another thing that I want to address:

@stardustamaryllis78 pointed this out on one of their posts, and it absolutely baffled me cause I hadn't noticed it before. I chalked it up to it being before the creators fleshed Aaravos out, but then I just went back to look at one of the s6 posters and I noticed THIS!?:

UM?? Okay, so the star is white AND the circle is upward. I always thought the gorgeous, astounding, immaculate, spectacular, heart stopping s6 posters of Aaravos with each Primal Source was actually him when he was pre-fallen. I thought so cause they weren't showing him doing dark magic so...

But apparently, this is him as fallen wearing his stunning Startouch formal attire. When I saw the star was bright in these posters I thought it was because he's doing magic ig (like how it did in s2), but then that doesn't explain why his star was bright again as humanity was being banished. But then I thought of one thing that might explain both pictures: Aaravos probably used his magic to make his star look bright (likely to deceive the others and make himself not look suspicious).

ANYWAY- pls tdp creators bring Leola back (like in the Clannad anime or smthing!) and restore his star heart again!! 😭

#OMG I didn't notice the bird sitting on his horn in the poster THAT'S SO CUTE aghslwhdkf- 💕💞💗#the dragon prince #thedragonprince #tdp #aaravos #tdp aaravos #the dragon prince aaravos #tdp speculation #tdp theory #continuethesaga #giveusthewholesaga #greenlight arc 3 #netflix #fandom #tdp fandom #twinkling star ✧˖°.

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esquilone · 27 days ago

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What I would say/i guess about women who are attracted to Micah Bell and Javier Escuella:

(I fit into this group of women) (˙༥˙(👈

❤︎ Javier and Micah are the characters I'm most focused on in the game and in the fandom, but I intend to talk about other members of the gang if anyone wants me to.

❤︎ Note: the images aren't mine, they're from Pinterest, I just edited them and changed details and made a cover for this post! :p

𝓜𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓱 𝓑𝓮𝓵𝓵 -

In my view if a someone feels attracted to Micah Bell, I’d say she has a thing for chaotic, unpredictable, and somewhat dangerous men. Micah is treacherous, manipulative, and extremely violent, but he also has a twisted charisma and unshakable confidence. This might suggest that she’s drawn to unapologetic rude man’s (bad boys? No…I don't think that's the right term for him, I'll explain later) who exude self-assurance and an “I do whatever I want, no one can stop me” attitude. Fascination with danger, being ordered around and “threatened”, something almost sadistic...the desire to possess or be taken by something/someone in which the relationship would be seen as forbidden or absurdly impossible, especially if the couple don't resemble each other in the slightest.

If I were to analyze their types:

I did some research with AI, psychology videos and voices in my head (lol-), so I came to the conclusion, almost certainly because I'm not a health expert, but I believe the conclusion corresponds to my summarized research:

❤︎ One of the most evident reasons or possibilities, repeating once again: questionable charisma and danger. Micah has a charismatic nature, with a strong presence, confidence, boldness, and a sense of security. He attracts many people, even those who question his morality. A visible aura of conscious danger can be thrilling, especially for those who are drawn to dominant and unpredictable personalities, as he always appears unfazed and unintimidated by others. It’s no coincidence that he didn’t panic when he was shot by Dutch or when he repeatedly clashed head-on with Arthur.

Many people are fascinated by charismatic villains, and Micah, with his rustic style and confident attitude, can be captivating. Additionally, some people are attracted to troubled men, believing they can change them, feeling drawn to problematic individuals because they think they can “fix” or “save” them, romanticizing the idea that he could be different with the right love. I believe this could happen, but it would depend a lot on his own effort. Normally, people don’t change completely because of the environment in which they grew up and learned—both childhood and adolescence play a huge role in shaping an individual. The way someone is raised (whether well or poorly) MOLDS who they become and how they act.

Example: extremely strict, conservative people, and in many cases, Christians—mostly Protestants—often learn from their families certain prejudiced expressions and statements that were justified as biblical in many cases, even though not all of them were concrete. Some were used to “cover up” acts and speeches against these groups of people. That being said, I can say that Micah is somewhat of a patriot, even if he isn’t particularly religious. The way he was raised by his father, possibly even being distant from his own mother, made him completely closed off, locked inside his own world of justice and reason. He is an adult and knows how to make choices, he knows what is right and wrong—even if his sense of morality is distorted due to the way he was raised and taught by his father. If I’m not mistaken, Micah is the youngest son, and maybe that’s why he kept doing what his father did—perhaps in an attempt to please him, to be greater than him, or maybe just to avoid forgetting someone he barely remembers

JUNGIAN SHADOW: The Repressed Side of the Psyche

❤︎ Carl Jung, a psychiatrist and psychotherapist born in Switzerland, conducted research and described a “shadow” as an unconscious and repressed part of a person’s personality, where traits, desires, and impulses that do not fit into the conscious or socially acceptable identity (the one that divides a person in terms of moral good and evil) are stored. The shadow can contain both negative aspects, such as aggressiveness and selfishness, as well as repressed qualities, such as boldness and a desire for freedom. Carl began developing the concept of the Shadow around the 1910s. Micah Bell presents himself as an individual who does not care about social and moral norms. He is treacherous, grumpy, mocking, and opportunistic, but also extremely free, proudly self-confident, and fearless. For some people, especially those who repress certain desires or more primitive impulses, he can become an irresistible symbol. Perhaps they project onto him what they secretly wish to be or experience—whether it be the feeling of power, strength, lack of restraints, or the freedom to act without guilt. The attraction to someone like Micah may stem from an unconscious identification with this shadow, as he embodies aspects of the psyche that some would like to express but cannot due to societal norms or their own self-control.

Attraction to the Feeling of Power and Domination, to the Alpha Male

❤︎ The idea of the “alpha male,” which is a bit of a cliché term—I don’t know—is deeply rooted in biological and social instincts. For much of human history, survival depended on strength, dominance, and the ability of men to lead in tribal societies. Although social dynamics today are more complex, the attraction to traits associated with power and leadership remains strong in many people.

Micah have exudes this brutal survivor energy. He fears no one, manipulates to get what he wants, and always maintains control over situations. Even though he is despicable, he is a strategist and survives in a world where the weak are discarded. For some people, this behavior conveys strength and raw masculinity—something that can trigger an unconscious attraction, especially in those who value security, protection, or dominant leadership. Another psychological factor is that some people are drawn to danger and unpredictability. Someone like Micah will never be boring; he will always be a challenge, mainly because his actions are unpredictable. For some people with a more submissive personality or who seek dominant figures—someone who gives them the feeling of “he is in control, I don’t need to ask, he takes care of it”—he may seem magnetic, even with his cruel behavior.

( - ❤︎ - )

𝓙𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓮𝓻 𝓔𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓪 -

Now, if a woman likes Javier Escuella, the story is quite different…. Javier is a loyal man (at least to some extent), passionate about life, music, and camaraderie. He has a Latin charm, a romantic side deep down, and gives off an energy of a “seductive outlaw.” This could indicate that she’s attracted to men with an exotic touch, who mix charisma with passion and emotional intensity. Maybe she’s drawn to adventurers—rebels who still hold onto some sense of honor—someone who can be dangerous but also has principles.

❤︎ A woman who likes Javier Escuella prefers a more romantic rebel—someone who can be dangerous but still carries passion and loyalty (to his own interests). It’s more about intensity and adventure rather than pure self-destruction. In fact, it's said both in the game and on websites and books that Javier fled Mexico fearing for the lives of the people he loved, not for his own skin. He killed a man of power because he was in love with a woman who was married to this man of "power". But I don't remember if this question of being in love is one hundred percent affirmative, I didn't smoke anything while I was playing and I think he says it like this….look:

I firmly believe that Javier is not a fool, he wouldn't kill someone for no apparent reason, not even in the heat of the moment, in that scene of the separation of the gang he shows himself confused and analytical about everything that happened in the gang, so much so that I believe that he thinks he and Bill decided to leave, I didn't see Javier or Bill in the scene where Arthur climbs the stone hills, I only remember Micah, Dutch and those other two men that Micah took to the gang. So in my opinion the military man or man of power that Javier killed for the woman he loved, possibly did something against the workers or even to her, if he was going to stay with her he would have known exactly how to escape even if it was risky, maybe this man would have discovered the betrayal and killed her or beat her, or something worse... Mexico at that time was known as a violent place, where the minority that suffered the most were women.

If I were to analyze their types:

I don't think Javier needs that much analysis for someone to like him, he doesn't have any kind of Red flag 🚩, so let's say....right right, I did some research and one of the traits that is most included in attractiveness would be personality and Identification. Javier is a loyal, charismatic, and enigmatic member. His blend of honor and pragmatism can attract people who seek trustworthy and loyal figures but also have an independent and rebellious side that refuses to be stepped on.

Personality Theory (Big Five) and Connection to Attachment Theory:

According to attachment theory, many people seek partners who offer a secure attachment—someone who is present but not overly controlling. Javier represents this balance, as he appears committed and protective without being suffocating. He cares about those he loves, but does not deprive them of their freedom. According to this theory, people with high agreeableness may feel drawn to his loyalty and sense of brotherhood. Meanwhile, those with greater openness to experience (similar to him) might relate to his free-spirited nature.

❤︎ Agreeableness - is a personality trait that refers to the tendency to be cooperative and compassionate rather than suspicious or antagonistic. Individuals with high agreeableness are generally more respectful, friendly, generous, helpful, and committed

The Instinct of Care, the Fantasy of the Protective Partner, and the Need for Security and Protection:

Many women (and not just women, even some small groups of men) feel attracted to men who give off a sense of security, not just physically but also emotionally. And Javier shows unwavering loyalty to his group and his companions, which can be seen as a sign of reliability and stability. He’s someone who doesn’t abandon those he cares about, but for him, loyalty is the trunk of the tree of morality, which can create a feeling of comfort and protection—something that is exceptionally sought after and desired among women.

Javier can also be seen as the archetype of the “protective partner,” someone who defends those he loves and is willing to fight for them. This trait—once again, repeating—can trigger the unconscious desire to be cared for and protected, especially in women who value relationships built on trust and mutual security.

Psychodynamics and Projection:

Carl Jung, who I mentioned earlier at the beginning of the post, would probably say that male figures like Javier can represent—repeating again—the archetype of the “loyal companion,” someone who combines empathy and strength. For some, he might symbolize qualities they wish to express or find in another person. What people seek and value the most are deep emotional connections, so they might find themselves attracted to the way he engages with others. Those who repress desires for adventure, a sense of justice, loyalty, or independence might project that onto him, admiring his free-spirited life since they don’t allow themselves to live that way.

And lastly.....

Attraction to the Exotic and the Mysterious Past:

Javier has a foreign background—he’s Mexican—and a past that’s barely explored (which I firmly believe could make up half the story of a full game; he’s so underdeveloped, unfortunately). This can spark interest in people who feel drawn to the curiosity about his past or even to the idea of an outsider. Psychologically, the effect of novelty on something unknown can make that attraction even stronger.

So, I can conclude from these analyses that women/girls who are attracted to both Javier and Micah Bell likely have a fascination with extreme contrasts. On one hand, she values loyalty, protection, and deep emotional connection (Javier fits here); on the other, she feels drawn to danger, unpredictability, and limitless freedom (Micah fits here). This may reflect a duality within herself (which I also feel)—a desire for security and stability, but also a curiosity for controlled chaos and the forbidden thrill in their stark differences.

Maybe you’re someone who seeks different intensities in relationships, who is interested in psychological complexity, and who might have a repressed sense of pride that expresses itself through these opposing attractions or through the actions of the character you feel drawn to. I believe that people in our group take pride in having a partner who matches their “ANIMUS”—a confident partner who is admired or desired for their control over what they do or simply for being great at it. This also helps shape your own image as their partner. Couples where one person is striking make the second partner more interesting, sparking curiosity about “who?” or “how?” the person managed to win and claim them.

CINEMA! I’m going crazy, creating theories and analyses—this is fun and makes me happy! 🚶🏻🤸🏻

#rdr2 #red dead redemption two #micah bell #javier escuela rdr2 #rdr2 micah #rdr2 x reader #Psychological analysis #arthur morgan #Psychological

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