#hunger games logo

[the-hanging-tree-on-fire]

It's the things we love most that destroy us

[warnadudenexttime]

The fact we got the orange side’s logo (maybe, idk if they have since redesigned it? I mean that merch is from 2021) before SHJSJSS the finale

Surprised yet expected, I’m once again somehow disappointed

[linacooper]

Help me!!!

Hi! This year has been full of changes for me. I made a very important decision to change my profession and become a designer in the future.

I really like people here and I know that you will not leave me and help me)))

The first step is to learn Photoshop. I need to practice a lot, for example: creating logos, covers for fanfiction or manip`s.

My first job is attached below. Please write, I will fulfill your request absolutely free!

[leviathanspain]

hii 💌 can I request some angst with president!coryo & victor!reader, same plot line as tbosas basically, he was once her mentor & now she’s his first lady

except the quarter quell with former victors happens earlier & he deliberately leaves her name out but she ends up volunteering instead

his first lady

coriolanus snow x victor!reader

synopsis: after years of hiding from the public, ashamed of your past and your husband, you discover the only way to end this, is with you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

he had lost his mind.

in the five years since your games, you had married the man who had given dr. gaul the ideas and tools to continue with the annual hunger games. he had also been the man to mentor you, showing you to an audience to get them to love you, simultaneously he fell in love with you.

he was powerful, you knew you couldn’t reject his advances, not while you were stuck behind the bars of the capital zoo. so you held his hand, listened to everything he said, winning as he promised you would.

only then did you hope that his attention on you would end, and you would be free to return home to your district, to put this part of your life behind…

except it haunted you, every day, every waking moment.

you never returned home, you never saw your parents again after being reaped, he became president, and you became his wife; his first lady.

and now, president snow stood on that stage, smile blazing as he announced that the fifteenth annual hunger games would reap its tributes, from the existing pool of victors.

he had truly lost his mind.

you gripped tigris’ arm as you watched coryo on the screen. he had just announced the changes, and you were left shocked.

tigris gulped, “i doubt he would leave your name in there.” she comforted you, “he would never do that-“ she paused, and you knew it was hesitation.

you stared at the screen, watching as the symbol of panem graced the screen, and you knew he would be home soon.

you shook your head, still in disbelief. you didn’t know what to think, coriolanus’ morality scale had gotten worse as the years went by and more power came, you were unsure what he would do to anyone, let alone you.

he loved you, more than you loved him. you never forgave him for what he did to sejanus, and coriolanus knew that, but he had made it known that as long as you were alive, he would never divorce you. his little loose end.

this could be the means to an end. if coriolanus was as smart as he was told, he would leave your name in, hope for the possibility to send you to your death, tying his loose end completely.

tigris stared as you grabbed the tv clicker, clicking the buttons to turn off the awful song that blasted with the logo. it wasn’t working, tigris tried to help you with it but your frustration over the games led you to slam the clicker into the tv screen, promptly breaking the screen.

coriolanus came home to a dark house. all the lights had been shut off, and he could still smell tigris’ perfume, lingering in the living room.

he set his bag down, taking off his coat and laying it down on the couch. he could see light emanating from the bedroom, and he could hear your soft singing.

coryo smiled, slowly walking down the hall, pushing the half cracked door open, seeing you on the bed. your nightshirt hung off your shoulder slightly, and your hair was loose. you looked beautiful, in the dim candlelight.

“my lady.” he greeted softly, bed dipping as he sat on his side. you turned, closing the novel you had been reading. you smiled softly, “coriolanus.” he frowned slightly, going in to give you a kiss, but you turned around to put your book away, effectively dodging his kiss.

“you’re upset.” he knew it immediately, you never called him coriolanus, not unless you were mad at him. usually he was called coriolanus every hunger games, as long as each games lasted. he had known eventually it would start up again, but this was far too early.

you didn’t say anything, opting to shrug as you stood up, pulling the sheets up.

coriolanus watched you get into the bed, snuggling into the snow white sheets, trying to avoid the conversation all together.

coryo stood up, removing his shoes and tie, “you saw the announcement.” he deduced, having put it together from the faint scent of his cousin’s perfume. “i didn’t want you to see it, i wanted to tell you myself-“ he kept undressing, and you sat up abruptly, “you had all morning to tell me what you had planned, but you let me go on about my day, let me think of you fondly and for you to announce that?!” you couldn’t help the tone of voice that you took with him, sometimes he was just irrational that not even you could get through to him.

he laughed softly, “so you wouldn’t have thought of me fondly if i had told you before the rest of the country?” he pulled the sheets on his side of the bed up, pulling them up to his chest as he turned to face you.

your back was resting against the pillows, arms crossed as you continued, “why would you do that, coryo?” your voice cracked, and his expression softened. one of his only weaknesses’ was you crying, whether it was someone else’s fault or his, it was a wretched weakness. “the victors are victors for a reason, why do we have to fight for our lives, all over again? hmm, haven’t we done enough?” you felt tears on your cheek, and you sniffled slightly.

coriolanus shook his head, “y/n, i took your name out.” he grabbed your thigh, “you won’t even have the chance of being reaped. you’ll just stand pretty on stage and watch the others get reaped.”

the others.

“you mean the children that i mentored to fight to the death and win?” you couldn’t see him through the puddles of tears in your eyes. you could only keep crying.

coriolanus stared, watching you sniffle and dab your tears away. he didn’t know what to say. this was his country, but you were his wife.

“just stand there y/n, they’ll be room for tears later.” he spat, and you stared at him in disbelief. coriolanus had become cruel, shrewd in his ways. this was a perfect example of one of the many ways he had changed.

you hauled yourself out of the bed, staring at coriolanus as you stomped out of the room. you had plenty of extra rooms in the house, and decided to go into one, leaving coriolanus to sleep in the bed by himself. he called after you, but you ignored him as you locked the door behind you.

you hadn’t seen so many people gathered in a long time. they stood in rows, long rows that seem to never end from where you stood. you stood next to the other tributes from your district, younger than you, eyes full of pain and sorrow.

the bowls containing their names were placed in front, one for the girls, and another for the boys. you knew your name wasn’t in there, coryo had said, ‘nothings changed’.

you listened carefully as the female victor was announced. valora grove, the young girl who you had just mentored this last hunger games. you watched as she hesitated to step up, face stricken with fear, this was happening to her all over again.

“i volunteer!” you panted, stepping up as you held a hand out, blocking valora from walking any further, “i volunteer as tribute.” you repeated, chest falling heavily as you stared out into the crowd, their faces displaying plain shock.

president snow’s wife, the first lady, the tenth annual hunger games victor, had just volunteered.

coriolanus must’ve just heard the news, because as you stood forward, accepting of what was to come, you were promptly escorted from the stage by peacekeepers, thrown into a car and driven straight back to the capitol.

coriolanus was furious, you knew. you knew your husband better than anyone in the world, better than his own family. he knew you well too, but you knew this was something he hadn’t anticipated, a small crack in his plans.

“you better hope i die.” was the first thing you said to him as the car doors open, coriolanus angrily gripping onto the handle. he stood there, fuming, “why y/n? why would you do that, you know that i can’t-“

“what? stop the games? of course not, that would make you look bad, coriolanus. but that’s exactly why i did it. you have no choice.” one thing that coriolanus had forgotten about you, was that you were smart, and usually, always one step ahead of him.

“i’m still a loose end, president snow.” you reminded him, stuck staring at his piercing blue eyes as his expression warped.

[lxndonorris]

racing surprise for Lando - Lando Norris (SFS24)

fem!reader x Lando Norris Theme: Smut (you've been warned) in the midst of pre-season testing, Mclaren invited you to surprise Lando x word count: 2710+ taglist: @game-set-canet another edition to the suit fitting saga 2024 (SFS24). Quite similar but I hope you like the added twist. Oh and I needed that picture so dont blame me. Next one will hopefully be este, and if you have any request, for SFS24, testing or simply something else, dont be shy and hit me up!

The air crackles with anticipation as the new season of Formula 1 looms on the horizon, heralding a fresh chapter in Lando Norris's illustrious career as a professional racing driver. With the promise of new gear, a state-of-the-art racing suit, a meticulously crafted helmet, and a gleaming Mclaren race car awaiting him, excitement pulses through his veins like the roar of an engine.

Amidst the flurry of activity in the Mclaren garage, you stand, a silent observer disguised as one of the team members. Dressed in the team's iconic orange shirt, dark pants, a cap, and sporting a headset, you blend seamlessly into the backdrop, your heart aflutter with anticipation as you await Lando's arrival.

He initially invited you himself to join him here, but you had to decline. Unbeknownst to him, his team has already reached out to you, preparing a surprise for your boyfriend. 

And then, like a whirlwind of energy and charisma, he enters the scene. Clad in his new racing suit, adorned with sponsor logos, he cuts a stroking figure. The fabric hugs his form in all the right places, accentuating his athletic build with precision and care. His curly locks framed his face, adding a touch of boyish charm to his rugged allure.

As Lando moves through the garage, his presence commands attention. There is confidence in his stride, a swagger in his step that speaks volumes about his self-assurance. He greets everyone with a warm smile and a handshake; his enthusiasm infectious. There is a genuine camaraderie between them, a sense of unity forged by their shared passion for racing.

With the assistance of two friendly mechanics who shield you from view, you watch as Lando prepares for his testing session. The air is thick with excitement and tension, a tangible buzz of anticipation that electrifies the atmosphere. The scent of his cologne lingers in the air, a subtle reminder of his proximity that sends shivers down your spine.

Each step Lando takes seems to echo purpose, his eyes alight with a belnd of determination and curiosity.

You watch from your vantage point, hidden in plain sight among the team members. As a conversation turns to the upcoming training session, Lando's demeanor shifts slightly. A curious, shy smile played on his lips as he listens closely. With a hand on his hip, he leans in slightly, his posture relaxed yet attentive.

There is a quiet determination in his gaze, a hunger to extract every ounce of potential from the testing session. He understands the importance of these moments, recognizing them as opportunities to fine-tune his skills and familiarize himself with the nuances of the new car.

You can't help but admire the way the fabric hugs his body tightly, emphasizing the curves of his backside and the strength of his arms. His movements are fluid and purposeful, each gesture imbued with quiet confidence.

With each glance, your eyes trace the lines of his suit, lingering on the subtle details that hint at the layers beneath. You know that beneath the sleek exterior lies a network of tight undergarments—fireproofs designed to protect him.

This knowledge adds an extra layer of allure to his already magnetic presence, heightening the intensity of your admiration.

As the conversation draws to a close, Lando offers a grateful nod to his mechanics. With a sense of purpose, he turns his attention toward the track, eager to put their plans into action and unleash the full extent of his talents.

With practiced ease, Lando slips into the remaining racing gear—his gloves and a tight balaclava—each movement deliberate and precise. The helmet, adorned with beautiful colors and logos, completes his ensemble, its glossy surface reflecting the glow of excitement in his eyes.

With a playful twirl, he settles into the driver's seat, his grin widening as he prepares to start testing. With a loud roar, the engine comes to life, and slowly but steadily, he makes his way out of the garage. Your stomach tightens in a mixture of anticipation and pride.

Through the crackle of the radio, his voice rings out, a symphony of exhilaration as he tackles each corner with precision and finesse. You listen intently, your heart swelling with joy as he pushes the limits of his Mclaren. You know he is so happy to be back, and you can actually see him smiling when you close your eyes. His voice is a little rougher, yet it carries his joy and passion through the radio.

Once his session is over, he returns to the garage. As Lando emerges from the cockpit of his Mclaren, he lets out a jubilant cheer with a triumphant flex of his arms. Shaking your head, you can't believe him actually doing that. Licking your lips, you still can't tear your eyes away from his arse, filling his suit fully.

The testing had been a success, and he surpassed all expectations. Running a hand across his chest, he can't help but revel in the rush of adrenaline that still courses through his veins. The fabric of his racing suit clings to him, damp with sweat from the intensity of the session—a sensational sight that you missed during the winter break.

In one swift movement, he reaches up to remove his helmet and balaclava, revealing a mop of tousled curls and a flushed complexion beneath. His lips part slightly with a satsified smirk, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes as he licks his lips, sending shivers down your spine. He looks so happy and excited, and you smile seeing him like that.

As he moves through the garage, shaking hands with his team members, he can't contain his joy. His tongue darts out playfully, a gesture of exuberance that shows his satisfaction with the achievements so far.

Lando chats with a few mechanics for a while, and you can tell the residual excitement from the testing session continues to surge through his veins, pulsating with every beat of his heart. He keeps stroking his chest, touching his arms, and subconsciously, he touches himself through his suit—just barely, yet it catches your attention. 

It is as if the adrenaline of the track has infused his very being, filling him with an exhilarating energy that seems to amplify with each passing moment.

Entranced by his every move, the sound of his voice, and his cologne's scent still hovering all around you, you miss the opportunity to reveal yourself—Lando has already left for his private quarters.

Leaving your headset and cap behind, you rush after him and spot him strolling through the paddock. Unable to tear your eyes away from him, captivated by the effortless grace with which he moved, you follow him. Every step seems to exude confidence, joy, and self-confidence.

As he runs a hand through his messy curls, you can't help but notice the way his hair fell in disarray, framing his face in a way that is both endearing and alluring. There is a rawness to his appearance—a sense of vulnerability—that makes your heart flutter in your chest.

And then, as if sensing your gaze, he runs a hand across his chest, a subtle gesture that speaks volumes about the excitement still running through his body. You can almost feel the electric energy radiating off him, a tangible reminder of the thrill of driving an F1 car.

In this moment, you are struck by the sheer magnetism of his presence, even though you're just looking at his beautiful back. And as he disappears into his quarters, leaving you to ponder the whirlwind of emitions he had stirred within you, you can't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration.

As you knock on his door, a nervous anticipation grips you, your heart pounding with uncertainty—how is he going to react?

"Coming." Lando's voice echoes through the door before it swings open, revealing your boyfriend standing right in front of you. With an almost shocked expression, your breath catches in your throat.

"Y/N?" He asks, and in an instant, his entire face lit up with a radiant smile that reaches his eyes, filling you with warmth and joy. 

"Hi." You smile shyly, your face flushing with heat. 

Without hesitation, he pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms enveloping you closely. You melt into him, running your hands across his firm back.

"What are you doing here?" Lando smiles, separating himself just enough for his face to be mere inches away from yours. He places a hand on your cheek, tracing your skin with his fingertips.

"Surprising you." You motion for a few Mclaren team members to film the two of you from afar. 

Both of you turn your heads and wave toward the camera. 

"They offered to get me here; we just needed a few clips for their channel." You shrug, and he nods in agreement and curiousity.

"This is great," he leans into you, kissing you gently. You lock eyes with him for what feels like an eternity.

The film crew gives you a thumbs up, telling you that it's now time for some alone time. 

As Lando welcomes you into his private quarters, a rush of excitement surges through you, mingling with the lingering traces of adrenaline from his testing session. Your gaze is drawn irresistibly to the contours of his chest, the fabric of his racing suit accentuating every curve and sinew.

He meets your gaze with a knowing smile, a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes as he senses the admiration and desire in your gaze. There is confidence in his demeanor, a quiet assurance that speaks of his comfort in his own skin.

"So, how was I?" With a playful grin, he steps closer, closing the distance between you until the warmth of his presence envelops you.

"Amazing." You lift your chin slightly, meeting his confidence with your own. "And you look the part too." Smirking, you lick your lips.

Without a word, he takes your hand and guides it to the fabric of his suit, allowing you to feel the sleek material beneath your fingertips.

"I know how much you like this on me," Lando breathes, locking his eyes with your own. However, you're unable to withstand his burning gaze and lower your eyes, following the movements of your hands instead.

As your hand traces the lines of his chest and arms, you can't help but marvel at the strength and resilience that lie beneath the surface. The fabric is cool to the touch, yet it seems to hum with the energy of the track, a tangible reminder of the passion and dedication that fuel his every movement.

"This feels so good." You breathe deeply while you keep stroking his chest, feeling his biceps, and watch his chest move with every breath he takes, eliciting a low rumble of pleasure deep down his throat.

"Fuck," Lando can't hold back a low moan, his hand now following yours closely, his body yearning for so much more. He leans his head back, embracing both of your hands now on his chest.

You know how much he loves to be teased, touched, and stroked. Effortlessly, you push all of his buttons and his most sensitive spots—his nipples, pecs, arms, and most importantly, his member filling his suit.

"Good." You whisper, leaning in to him, tracing the outlines of his stubble just above his lips. A shiver races down your spine, the rough texture of his beard contrasting with the softness of your touch. There is something undeniably alluring about the way his beard frames his lips, adding a touch of raw sensuality to his appearance. 

With each passing moment, the desire to feel the roughness of his stubble against your skin grows stronger—a primal urge that threatens to consume you completely. You lean in, brushing your lips against his in a tender caress. The sensation of his beard against your skin sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

With your hand on his crotch, he moans softly against your lips. Lost in the heat of the moment, you surrender yourself to the heady rush of emotions. Your lips meet in a fervent kiss, craving his delicious taste.

"Y/N." Lando murmurs, his hands now steady on your waist, holding you close.

"Care to give me a show?" You bite his lower lip teasingly, causing him to chuckle. "I want to see all of you in that." Tugging at the zipper of his racing suit, you stroke him firmer, encouraging him to show off.

"Of course." He giggles, and you settle onto the sofa, anticipation tingling in the air, thick with the electricity of the moment. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Lando takes center stage, spreading your legs to make some space. His movements are fluid and confident as he begins his private show.

With each flex of his muscles, his form seems to come alive, the contours of his body highlighted by the sleek fabric of his racing suit. He lets you feel his muscles tense, letting out more guttural growls.

"Very good." You smile, and with a playful smirk dancing on his lips, he turns around, giving you a tantalizing glimpse of his firm back and arse. He bends to show off his butt even more, much to your amusement. 

And then, with a sudden burst of energy, he begins to dance, his movements a mesmerizing combination of grace and athleticism. His hips sway to an invisible rhythm, and his body moves with a natural ease that shows off his innate charisma and confidence.

As he twirls and turns, the fabric of his suit seems to come alive as well, clinging to his form as he moves with effortless grace. With a slow and deliberate motion, he reaches for the zipper, his fingers tracing the line with teasing slowness.

As Lando slowly unzips his suit, his eyes never leave yours; their intensity like a flame igniting the air between you. His gaze is electric, a silnt invitation that sends shivers down your entire back. Hidden beneath his beautiful eyes lies hunger—a raw desire that mirrors the heat pulsating through your veins.

With each inch of fabric that melts away, inch by inch, he reveals the tight garments—a glimpse of the tight fireproofs. Easily, he slips out of the upper half of his suit, giving you a good look at his chest. His defined muscles barely conceiled, he flexes again, straining the fabric even more. 

Lando closes the distance between you until you feel the warmth of his body radiating against your skin. His gaze is never wavering, pulling you so much closer.

"Fuck." You reach for his chest, tracing the tangible outlines of his abs, as he licks his lips. With the sleeves of his suit dangling down his waist, he stands before you, his form outlined against the soft glow of the room, a vision of strength and sensuality that takes your breath away.

In that moment, as you drink in the sight of him, you know you want him. 

You motion for him to sit down right next to you, and right away, you lean in, kissing him passionately.

Lando embraces your body against his, and at the same time, your hand slips underneath his suit. His skin is warm and tight; all of the tension is showing its effect on his body.

"Mhmmm." He purrs into your mouth, one of his hands firmly on his length, bulging against his clothes.

In one swift motion, you manage to get into his pants and pull his member out of his clothes, causing him to moan in agreement.

"That would be so good, Y/N." Fully aware of what you're about to do, you keep kissing him while simultaneously running your hand up and down his length.

With every breath he takes, Lando lets out guttural groans before leaning his head back against the sofa cushions.

Looking into his eyes, you bend down and take him into your mouth. 

"That's what I meant." He swallows hard, running a hand through your hair.

Together, you easily catch up to each other's rhythm, moving as one. His husky, rough voice echoes through your mind as more and more drops of his taste cover your tongue. 

Then, his body gets stiff and rigid, and he holds his breath before letting go of all this tension, pressure, and desire. It feels so good. Letting out a long, breathless moan, he relaxes quickly, leaning back even more. You let go of him, licking your lips to savor the taste.

Lando fondles with himself for a while while you catch your breath.

"This was so good." You sigh deeply before a chuckle leaves your wet lips. He smirks, leans in, and kisses you.

"Thank you for being here." Lando rubs his nose against yours gently.

[irldenji]

hiii hope youre doing well! could i request some hunger games graphics? maybe some pixels of the logo and stamps/blinkies of peeta mellark, thanks!!

Haiii doing fine ty (*ˊᗜˋ*)! I hope you like these!

[katnissandpeetamellark]

Idk if people aren’t getting Why I’m hyped that the logo on the book cover is shaped like a lyre

But here is why I am SO thrilled about the TikTok commenters epiphany!

••••

I assume most people at least have come across the Lyre as a symbol of Greek & Roman mythology (thank you Greek/Roman phase we all had as a child lol!) BUT for this post let’s look at the lyre as a symbol of one god, Apollo.

Apollo is the god things such as: music and dance, truth and prophecy, poetry … sun and light. AND archery. (among other things… but these are the ones I want us to focus on)

Let’s connect these things to what we know from the previous books!!!!⭐️

- we can connect music & dance to the Covey & Lucy Gray (and music eventually to Katniss & the propos)

- truth to what really happened during the 10th hunger games. The hidden truth of how Snow cheated. The one we as readers know and citizens of Panem were forced to forget.

- prophecy to the line in TBOSAS about the Katniss (root) not being ready yet 👀 To Mockingjays and their connection to Katniss and the eventual symbol that haunts Snow to his grave. The connection between the 10th hunger games to the 74th and beyond.

- poetry again could be Lucy Gray and her songs that continue to persist in 12 despite Snow trying to destroy her and her memory. Ballads of course are poetry (or song) that tell a story. The Hanging Tree originally tells the story of the Arlo & Lil. The Ballad of Lucy Gray is about her failed romantic relationship and being sent to her grave in the games because she was betrayed. Poetry & Ballads are the way history “stays alive” in 12, even if the masses have forgotten.

- the sun and light are … of course the “sunrise” in the title. The beginning, the start. Apollo is the one who brings the light to the sky every day! Maybe this is Lucy Gray or maybe this is Haymitch. Personally I believe they are both Apollo here. Perhaps each child sent to their death in the games is a spark… a beginning to a brighter world where the games no longer happen? A reason to fight.

- another connection of Apollo to Haymitch is that Apollo is the patron of herds, flocks, crops. Haymitch is herding all these poor district 12 children after he wins the games. Unwillingly and unhappily but in a sick way he becomes a Shepard — and he also eventually has his geese. A peaceful Shepard at last.

NOW! Here’s another thing— Apollo has a twin!! Artemis!

Artemis is the goddess of the HUNT! Goddess of wilderness and child care (among other things)… she is also the goddess of ARCHERY!

Sound like anyone we know??

ANYWAYS! Feel free to add on any ideas, argue points (I just ask you please be respectful in reblogs & comments! I like to chat but I won’t engage with condescension or asshole-ry lol), or even speak on different aspects of the cover💜

[physalian]

Color in Fiction! (Once You See it, You Cannot Unsee it)

White versus black, red versus blue, Gatsby’s green light, Dorothy’s ruby red slippers, Belle’s blue dress.

Color is perhaps the most ubiquitous motif used across both fiction and reality to thread people or objects through a common theme, or to pit two ideologies against each other beyond their verbal spats. Color is also perhaps the simplest motif, but that doesn’t make it any lesser in its potency.

In fiction, color is an easy way for the audience to learn as fast as possible who’s on whose side, and who their opponents are, and today, we’re going to look at a few.

But first: Crash course into color theory:

Warmer colors evoke passion or uncertainty, movement and excitement, happiness and warmth, but also rage, aggression, love, and lust. The cooler colors evoke sadness and serenity, but also youth and spring and winter and death.

Most of the time when a creator wants to juxtapose color in a narrative or other work, they’re going to use inverses, just google one of the hundreds of teal and orange movie posters. Inverses are whatever colors lie at opposite sides of the wheel. Blue and Orange, Red and Green, Purple and Yellow. These pairs show up either in opposition, or as an ensemble of one character or a group or team.

Part 1: Black and White

Yes it has grounds in racism, but black and white are also accepted to mean chaos and order, good and evil, death and life.

In a show like Lost, themes of black and white are constant. The black and white backgammon pieces, the colors of the Dharma station logos, the show’s main title card, God stand-in Jacob (Lucifer from Supernatural), and his unnamed brother, the Man in Black.

Black and white show up *everywhere,* in some places subtler than others. In fiction with a male and female lead, if they are coded in black and white, the man is almost always the one in black. Black means strength and mystery and this deep, almost corrupted darkness. White is purity, femininity, youth, and nurturing, when a woman wears it, unless she's the villain.

Villains in white are very often surprise villains:

The White Witch (Chronicles of Narnia)

Saruman (Lord of the Rings)

President Coin (Hunger Games)

Hans (Frozen), Mayor Bellweather (Zootopia), Auto (Wall-E)

Elizabeth from Pirates of the Caribbean is an interesting case. She begins the first movie wearing light colors and being trapped in the pure and lawful life of the governor’s daughter. She ends her arc in the third movie in solid black (through several costumes) a badass Pirate King and wife of the new Captain of the Flying Dutchman.

Men in black are chivalrous, dark knights, or morally grey vigilantes, silent badasses, or edgy badboys. Black is also of course reserved for villains a la Darth Vader, or Severus Snape and Voldemort and a million others. The "Black Knight" is his own trope, whether he's in a fantasy setting or not.

Women in black are temptresses, or seductive badasses. Black is the color of corruption, sin, and angst in western media 9 times out of 10 unless a narrative wants to subvert it.

I could do an entire essay on black and white in Lord of the Rings alone but here's a few other contrasts: The white Tower of Ecthelion, Minas Tirith, the "White City", the White Tree, Gandalf the White. The Black Riders, Black Speech, Black Land of Mordor, Orthanc (Saruman's Tower).

But you don’t have to make your character’s entire costumes black and white, no, you can just make their hair light and dark.

Part 2: Hair

**Possibly also because racism but we don’t have time to unpack all that right now**

When you have your male protagonist and his male foil, love interest, competition, companion, lancer, or villain, most of the time (in western media where blonds are in abundance) the more noble or “good” character of the two will be blond, the other brunet, especially in a love triangle. If two male characters have opposing ideologies on any level, they will often have opposing hair. A male and female lead duo will also tend to have opposing hair, but it’s most obvious what they’re doing when it’s two dudes and not just coincidence.

Here’s a nonexhaustive list, with the brunet first (ignoring if the adaptation was faithful):

Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamnee (LoTR)

Aragorn and Boromir (LoTR)

Aragorn and Theoden (LoTR)

Denethor and Faramir (LoTR)

Thorin and Bilbo (Hobbit)

Jack Shephard and James “Sawyer” Ford (Lost)

Jack Twist and Ennis Del Mar (Brokeback Mountain) *Also have opposing hats*

Bruce Wayne and Harvey Dent (The Dark Knight)

Tony Stark and Steve Rogers (Marvel)

Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers (Marvel)

Loki and Thor (Marvel)

Nico di Angelo and Will Solace (Percy Jackson)

Percy Jackson and Jason Grace (Percy Jackson)

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson (the Cumberbatch one)

Sam Winchester and Dean Winchester (Supernatural)

Edmund Pevensie and Peter Pevensie (Chronicles of Narnia)

Gale Hawthorne and Peeta Mellark (Hunger Games)

Damon Salvatore and Stefan Salvatore (Vampire Diaries)

Tom Buchanan and Jay Gatsby (2013 Gatsby)

Caledon Hockley and Jack Dawson (Titanic)

Notable nonexhaustive exceptions:

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy (Harry Potter)

Percy Jackson and Luke Castellan (Percy Jackson)

Jacob Black and Edward Cullen (Twilight)

Batman and Superman (DC Comics)

Luke Skywalker and Han Solo (Star Wars)

Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars) *wardrobe makes up for it*

*Feel free to tag the ones I missed

Not every brunet on the list is a “bad” guy, nor is every blond the “good” guy, but compared to each other, the brunet tends to be the more morally grey, the more corrupted, the one who’s ideologies end up getting them hurt or killed or proving them wrong. Or, the brunet faces more demons, has a darker personality, or tends to have a “shoot first ask questions later” philosophy.

This of course goes out the window if the media is set in a region or with a cast of characters who are meant to share similar features, like how there’s no blondes at all in Last Airbender (otherwise Aang would absolutely fit the pattern).

Whether that’s Frodo getting corrupted by the Ring and Sam being his rock, Jack Twist getting murdered while Ennis lives on, or the beloved Dark Knight and his bat-black demons while Harvey’s White legacy saves Gotham, next time you write a brunet and his blond competition, ask yourself just why you’re doing it.

*Side note, I’m pretty sure Harvey Dent, when he’s animated, is usually a brunet, but he’s also usually Two-Face by then and no longer a hero*

I don’t even have time for black and white in anime or the trope of the white-haired anime boy and since natural hair colors are kind of moot, I don’t think the same rules apply. But outside of the westernized “black knight vs white knight” I do want to dig deeper into color motifs in anime at some point.

Here's some notable dark and light dichotomies nonetheless in wardrobe and/or hair:

Kirito and Asuna (Sword Art Online)

Lelouch and Suzaku (Code Geass)

Midoriya and Bakugo (My Hero Academia)

L and Light (Death Note)

Medusa and Stein (Soul Eater)

Sasuke and Naruto (Naruto)

Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye (Fullmetal Alchemist)

Eiji and Ash (Banana Fish)

Kyoya and Tamaki (OHSHC)

Yuri and Viktor (Yuri!!! On Ice)

Dracula and Alucard (Castlevania)

Part 3: Red v. Blue and everything in between

The megalith that is the color motif extends past the white/black dichotomy.

It’s also red and blue.

If red is pitted against blue in any story, red is always the team the audience is supposed to root against, unless this is sports. Red is the color of the Sith, the Fire Nation, red eyes are seen as evil, red is blood and rage and wrath and fire. Red is the color of evil empires. Blue is the color of heroes. It’s water and healing and camaraderie, serenity. Blue is the color of rebels and underdogs.

Red versus blue is in everything from the color of lightsabers in Star Wars to the color of cybertronian eyes in Transformers, to the color of the Water Tribes and Fire Nations (with some exceptions a la Azula’s blue fire) to the colors of the pills in the Matrix. Red is the ‘dangerous’ choice, blue is the ‘safe’ choice. Unless your character is patriotically sporting the red, white and blue of the UK, USA, or France.

Villains usually only wear blue if they're ice-coded, or belong to a faction wearing navy blue uniforms.

Red versus blue also shows up between leaders and their lancers. The first one I can think up off the top of my head is Robin and Raven from Teen Titans.

Purple is also usually lumped in with the bad guys and green with the good guys, but purple and green also show up a ton as contrasting colors of the same character like the Hulk or the Joker. But both can swing either way. The Decepticons in the early cartoons for Transformers had purple everywhere and reclaimed it in Transformers: Prime. Megatron, Soundwave, Shockwave, the Vehicons, Airachnid, and the Dark Star Saber, and some G1s]. Prime also has three sets of red-blue dichotomies within their factions: [Arcee/Cliffjumper, Optimus/Ratchet, and Knockout/Breakdown].

Green is the color of more Jedi, and the Green Lanterns, but green also represents sickness or disease or generic evil energy a la Loki, Dr. Facilier (Princess and the Frog) or the Hyenas and Scar in the Lion King.

Pink is really up in the air, as is orange and yellow, especially when it comes to female characters, especially female anime characters.

But enough about color dichotomy.

Part 4: Color Singularity

Color singularly is either meant to evoke a specific emotion, like using blue everywhere to represent sadness, or it’s meant to be a bold statement in an otherwise grayscale world.

I mentioned a few at the top of the post and I’ll elaborate on them here:

In Great Gatsby, green and yellow are very important colors. The “green light” is this real object at the end of the titular character’s love interest’s dock. This light and this color are motifs that represent Gatsby’s longing for Daisy and to return to a glorious past he can never have again (it’s also the color of American money). Yellow is also everywhere in this book. It’s the color of his chekov’s car and several dresses at his extravagant party. Yellow is the color of his current life of glitz and glam and riches (and is also the color of gold). If you listen to one of the accompanying songs to the 2013 film, Florence and the Machine’s “Over the Love” recognizes the importance of yellow in the narrative.

Dorothy’s red slippers in the Wizard of Oz are hyperbolically bold, especially since the movie starts out in black and white. Color is a huge piece of this film- the Emerald City, the Yellow Brick Road, the horse of many colors. Red scientifically is the color humans tend to notice first, those shoes were made to be remembered. Color in Wizard of Oz is the symbol of the fantastical, which was really helped by the time the film was made and simply seeing so much color on screen dazzled audiences.

Red catches your eye faster than any other color, and red in a world of black and white sticks in your mind, just look at Schindler’s List.

Belle from Beauty and the Beast, along with a lot of fictional women wear blue. Blue is biblically Mary’s color, and at one time was the color marketed to women before the shift to “blue for boys”. In the original Beauty and the Beast, Belle was the only character who wore blue, because she was an outsider, and outlier, a free-thinker. Or at least, Belle is the only one who wears blue until she dances with the Beast. The live-action remake didn’t maintain this extra level of the narrative and that’s a shame.

I didn't mention eye color much above (also maybe because racism) but blue eyes, especially animated blue and green eyes, go to characters who are more hopeful, heroic, nurturing, morally just, honest, or brave than their brown-eyed counterparts, unless he's a blue-eyed Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Blue-eyed people tend to be blond, so the traits go hand in hand for the "good" character.

Weirdly enough, this also applies to blue-eyed animal characters -- your animated anthropomorphised villain is rarely going to be drawn with eyes that aren't brown, black, green, red, orange, or yellow.

Because color is also a subliminal or overt way of foreshadowing in both written and visual media as much as any other motif and recurring symbol. You can foreshadow death, or impending doom, or an eventual identity reveal, whatever you want.

You can also subvert the usual associations with specific colors. Black doesn’t have to mean evil in your world. Black can be life, too. White doesn’t have to be pure, white can be clinical and sterile and lifeless (but please no more lady villains in white pantsuits, that's its own cliche at this point). Shake it up a bit every once in a while.

So whether it’s dueling ideologies or the very forces of good and evil, a harbinger of doom or a secret tell, or community and camaraderie, or an enduring hope, you can represent it all with a careful dose of color.

[arriettyspin]

We finally have an extract from Sunrise On The Reaping!

New information:

The book is told in first person like the original trilogy - words can't describe how happy I am about this, I couldn't connect with the third person pov in tbosas

Haymitch's girl is called Lenore Dove 🕊️

His little brother is called Sid and their age gap is bigger than Katniss and Prim's

His mother is thirty five and does laundry for a living while his father is dead

There's mention of Haymitch foraging in the woods, so hopefully we can expect a Mr Everdeen cameo soon 👀

The passage with the Capitol logo stamped on his ass had me laughing out loud

[mockingjaysnakes]

— Graphic Props For The Hunger Games: The Ballad Of Songbirds And Snakes.

(MADE AND DESIGNED BY SCHEIN BERLIN)

LUCY GRAY’S name lot, which was drawn during the reaping.

Experimented a lot with different types of folds and seals until the version with black paper and an embossed golden seal was finally chosen.

📖 BOOKCOVERS FOR THE ACADEMY.

Designed various textbook covers for the Academy. Some of them can be seen in the lecture hall scene.

While most books deal with scientific topics, "Panem History" will be a work with which the Capitol brainwashes its young citizens.

The story of Panem is certainly told in a propagandistic way.

📰 THE CAPITOL – "VOICE OF PANEM" NEWSPAPER.

Designed three covers: one for the Snow Apartment, one for Hoff’s Office and one for a café.

💵 "PANAR" & "CENTAR" - BANKNOTES AND COINS FROM PANEM.

The symbols of the districts are shown on the reverse of the coins in ascending order. District 12 on the 1 Centar piece, etc. The 5 Panar piece in turn shows the "Panema".

Portraits of the presidents of Panem are depicted on the banknotes.

The banknotes were printed on special paper and finished with gold and holographic foil.

🪖 PEACEKEEPER STATION ORDER WITH STAMP.

The district of the Peacekepper recruit is noted on the station order. The station order is issued when the recruit enters service.

Several blocks with tear-off sheets and stamps with the district logos were produced for the scene.

Redesigned the district logos for TBOSAS to show that this story takes place in the past of the other films.

📜 10TH HUNGERGAMES REQUEST FORM FOR APPROVAL OF AN OBJECT.

Mentors can request objects for their tributes that can help them during the games or in preparation for them.

Coriolanus requests a guitar for Lucy Gray.

♠️ CARD GAME FOR LUCKY FLICKERMAN. Enhances his performances as a presenter with various magic tricks to entertain the audience.

His tricks include the "magical" fanning of his playing cards.

Designed a deck of cards (without jokers) for him that was produced as single cards and also as a kind of fanfold.

[kald-dal-write]

what color is each of the district’s number/logo/indicator in the games? also do you think that sometimes the colors give perks or worse situations like if 7 had green in a forest and then some other district had blaring red/purple I feel like it would kinda be unfair

Like for my own Hunger Games headcanons imagine the colors are kind of obnixious because

A. Doylist reason of I like bright colors

B. It’s more for the TV audience than it is for the tributes that they are easy to differentiate and see

Here are the colors(ish) I have for the Districts (so yeah imagine some of these colors would have bigger advantages than others)

Haven’t picked a color for D1 yet though so you guys can pick I guess

[snake-with-scallions]

Do the moving logos in the hunger games movies give anyone else the sheer amount of serotonin it gives me?

Like I never really cared much about the movies I was always a book girlie, but like the mockingjay flapping it’s wings before settling into the pin, and that’s not even counting the tbosas one just

[lxndonorris]

racing hearts - lestappen

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smutish, Teasing, Touching tension rises during the pre-season testing, a sign of what's to come throughout the year x word count: 1600+ taglist: @game-set-canet I just needed this little interlude ;P

Max breathes in the familiar scent of adrenaline and burning rubber as he steps out of the sleek Red Bull racing car, his heart still pounding from the exhilarating test session. The sun is beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the paddock, and Max can't help but feel a surge of contentment wash over him.

The first official testing for the upcoming season has just begun, and it is a moment he has been eagerly anticipating. Max glances down at his new Red Bull racing suit, the iconic logo emblazoned across the chest. He looks so good. As he adjusts his helmet, he can't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling within him. 

He had pushed the car to its limits, weaving through corners with precision, and clocked some impressive lap times. With a radiant smile spreading across his face, he takes his helmet off and leaves the Red Bull garage to take a break inside his motorhome. 

The rush of adrenaline still courses through his veins, leaving him feeling alive and invigorated. It had been far too long since he had experienced the thrill of racing, and now that he is back behind the wheel, every fiber of his being thrums with pure pleasure.

As he peels off his racing gloves, Max can't help but revel in the sensation of racing lingering inside him as he walks through the paddock, basking in the afterglow of a successful test session. His body hums with energy, every muscle taut and coiled with tension.

With each step he takes, Max feels the tension inside his body and the subtle flexing of his muscles as he moves with purpose and grace. The sheer joy of being back on track is written across his face, his eyes sparkling with excitement, and his chest swelling with pride.

Max can't shake the feeling of euphoria that pulses through him. Racing is more than just a sport to him; it is a way of life, a passion that burned deep within his soul. 

As he strolls through the bustling paddock, a sense of nostalgia washes over him, mingling with the thrill of anticipation for the upcoming season. Memories of the previous season flood his mind, each one punctuated by the exhilarating rush of adrenaline and the sweet taste of victory. It had felt incredible to stand on top of the podium and hold the trophy up in the air, knowing all his hard work had paid off.

Then he reaches the familiar haven of his motorhome, and a smile plays at the corner of his lips. Max opens the door, steps inside, and begins to peel off his racing gear, the fabric clinging to his skin with a mixture of sweat and triumph.

Before he can pull the zipper down in its entirety, a familiar voice cuts through the air, causing him to pause mid-motion.

"Max""

Turning, Max's grin widens as he spots Charles, his childhood rival and now his secret lover. Despite their fierce competition on track, their relationship off it is one of mutual respect and passion. 

Charles stands leaning against the side of the motorhome, his red racing suit unzipped and hanging around his waist, accentuating every curve and contour of his athletic frame. The dimming light of the evening sun casts a golden hue over him, highlighting the allure that seems to radiate from every pore.

"Hey Charlie!" Max greets him, his voice filled with a mixture of excitement and intrigue. "How was your session?"

Charles smirks, his gaze raking over Max's form with a hunger that sends shivers down Max's spine. "Not bad. But I think I left you some big shoes to fill out there." 

Max chuckles, unable to tear his eyes away from Charles' captivating gaze. The tension between them is palpable—a dance of desire and competition that has ignited since the end of the last season. 

It started innocently enough—a shared moment of camaraderie that blossomed into something much deeper. And now, as they stand face-to-face, the air crackles with the electricity of their secretive romance.

Charles takes a step closer into the motorhome, his movements oozing with self-confidence and a lingering desire that sends Max's heart racing faster than any of their race cars. "You know, it's going to be much harder for you to become a world champion with me on your tail."

Max feels a thrill run down his spine at the challenge in Charles' words. Leaning in closer, he brushed his lips against Charles' while closing the door behind him. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Charles tilts his head slightly, his hands moving to rest gently on Max's chest, fingers tracing slow circles across his frim muscles. The touch ignites a fire within him that burns hotter with each passing moment.

"I missed fighting you on track," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with desire. "Those battles during testing were...so much fun."

Max lets out a deep, rumbling growl in response, relishing the feel of Charles's hands exploring his body. He leans into his touch, his own hands coming to rest on Charles's waist, pulling him closer.

Max's gaze drifts downward, lingering on the tantalizing sight of their bodies mere inches apart. Despite the close proximity, the space between them seems charged with tension, each breath they take heavy with desire.

His eyes trace the contours of Charles's athletic frame, admiring the way his racing suit hugs every curve and muscle with precision.

A low, primal sound rumbles in Max's throat as he licks his lips, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight before him. The sleek fabric of these red fireproofs clings to Charles's skin, leaving little to the imagination and sparking a fierce hunger within Max. He can't help but marvel at how effortlessly Charles wears the suit, exuding confidence and allure with every moment.

The sight of his boyfriend in his racing gear never fails to stir something primal within him, awakening a need that only Charles could satisfy.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Max teases, "Admit it, you're showing off your tight fireproofs to mess with me."

Charles smirks, his gaze smoldering with lust. "Maybe I am," he admits, not bothering to hide the truth. Instead, he leans closer, his lips brushing against Max's ear. "But seeing the way you react to them...just makes me hard." 

Max's breath catches in his throat at the confession, his heart pounding in his chest. The thought of Charles intentionally teasing him, of knowing the effect it has on Max, only fuels the fire between them.

With a low growl, Max surges forward, capturing Charles's lips in a fierce kiss, his fingers trailing lightly over the smooth fabric of Charles's undergarments. His touch is electric, sending sparks flying between them as their bodies press together, molding into one another with a sense of urgency and longing.

Charles pulls away for a moment, meeting Max's longing gaze with a playful smirk. He teases Max further, his fingers tracing the zipper of his racing suit, Max's breath hitches in excitement.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Charles begins to unzip his suit, the fabric parting to reveal the tantalizing glimpse of Max's muscles bulging through his fireproofs.

Max's heart races as Charles's hand slips inside, his touch sending waves of pleasure cascading through him. The sensation of his fingers stroking Max's chest is tingling, each caress leaving him craving more. He leans into the touch, his own hands moving to trace the contours of Charles's body, reveling in the feel of his boyfriend's warmth beneath his fingertips.

Both of their bodies, all of their muscles are hard as rock as more tension builds up inside them.

"I can't wait to fight on the track again," Charles murmurs again. "And this time, I will be on top."

Max lets out a low groan once Charles's hand reaches his crotch; all of this teasing causes his member to grow and bulge inside his tight suit.

He knows Charles is a formidable opponent, one who pushes him to his limits both on and off the racetrack. The thought of facing him on the track once more fills Max with a heady mix of lust and desire.

"We will see about that," Max whispers, playing with Charles's nipples, desperately trying to pierce his shirt.

With a chuckle, Charles reluctantly pulls away from Max, his fingers lingering on the zipper of his racing suit for a moment longer. He can't resist stealing one last admiring glance at Max's physique—his chest so firm and his length tenting visibly—his gaze lingering on the alluring sight of his unzipped suit.

"You know," Charles smirks, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. "I won't be able to hide this." He grabs himself through his suit and fondles with his own member. Max bites his lower lip, touching himself as well.

"All I want is to battle you and win." Charles's smirk grows wider while he runs a hand along his length and up his chest to his neck, stroking himself again and again.

Max's heart skips a beat at the declaration, his own desire echoing his sentiments. He knows their battles on track are more than just a competition; they are a test of skill, determination, and passion.

With a shy smirk, Max steps closer to Charles, their bodies still tingling with the heat of their shared desire. "Bring it on," he replies, his voice filled with confidence.

As Charles turns to leave, Max can't help but admire the grace and strength in his stride. Their love may be a secret, but the fire that burns between them is undeniable. 

Max watches Charles leave, his heart heavy with longing, feeling a pang of disappointment that their time together was cut short. The sight of Charles stroking himself before turning back for one last look will linger in Max's mind.

With a sigh, Max gets back into his motorhome, resting for the upcoming race next week.

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Teen and Up Rated Fics Masterlist (65)

Part 1- Part 59 /  Part 60 / Part 61 / Part 62 / Part 63 / Part 64 /

Created: May 28th, 2024

Last Checked:—-

Fires-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: "Are you sure you want to do this kid?" A proposal and the unexpected, all in three parts. Let's Hurt Tonight-katnissdoesnotfollowback (ao3) Summary: Time, Death, Love. We wish for more time. We fear death. We long for love. Like The Stars Hold The Moon-VanillaCottonCandy (ao3) Summary: Their eyes full of shock and sympathy and sadness. And maybe a slight hint of relief. And for some reason, it doesn't compute right away. Nothing registers in my mind for a long beat of time. Nothing makes any sense, my thoughts completely frozen, for one long, harrowing moment. Until Effie repeats the name again. The name of the male tribute who will represent District Twelve in the Hunger Games. Who will go against Twelve's female tribute and the career pack and every other wildcard on a nationally televised death brawl. "Peeta Mellark!" / For the Everlark Fic Exchange 2021, Prompt 59, "Katniss' dad is a victor, he won his hunger games and is now a mentor. Peeta is reaped for the games and Katniss begs her dad to help him win the games. Maybe She's Born With It-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: Desperate to be noticed by her crush, thirteen-year-old Katniss Everdeen ventures into the complicated world of makeup. With mixed results. My Secret Valentine-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: After a bad breakup, Katniss finds herself the lucky recipient of a daily rose delivery from a secret admirer. Nibbling Away-katnissdoesnotfollowback (ao3) Summary: Growing back together isn't always happiness and fluff. Sometimes it's disagreements, making space for yourself, and learning what the other person needs. Night will fall-keeptheearthbelow (ao3) Summary: On the afternoon of the second day in the Quarter Quell arena, inexplicable things begin to occur and normal events go off track. Note: This is an old idea that I’ve been planning to write for a long time — what if there was no rescue from that arena?  No.1 Everlark Shipper-loungemermaid (ao3) Summary: You know, in a weird, really fucked up way, them both getting reaped might be the best thing that ever happens to my brother. No Reason-katnissdoesnotfollowback (ao3) Summary: It starts when their history teacher talks about ancient holidays and traditions of gift giving. It escalates when Katniss overhears Peeta talking about what would be his idea of a perfect gift for him. But what is she supposed to think when a gift, exactly what she needs, is left on her school desk one day, addressed to her. In Panem AU with no Games but still far too much poverty. Red Jay Farm-keeptheearthbelow (ao3) Summary: Katniss Everdeen’s farm needs a new logo, but she has history with the graphic designer.

[danielfuckingricciardo]

23 + Fernando Alonso (can't wait to see what you come up with!)

Hi anon! Thank you so much for the request ♥︎

Sorry this is a little late, but better late than never, right?

When I saw the song I instantly knew what I wanted to do for this one, it practically wrote itself and I really enjoyed writing it, so I hope you enjoy reading it too!

+ Much like the Esteban fic, this is my first Fernando fic which is super fun! I really want to write more Fernando so if anyone has any more inspiration or any ideas do drop into my ask box and say hi!

Song 23 - These Boots Are Made for Walkin’ // Nancy Sinatra

Pairing - Fernando Alonso x Reader 

Word Count - 1.2k

Content Warnings - Swearing, sex references

These boots are made for walkin' And that's just what they'll do One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you

To you, rich men were boring. Each and every man who would aim to win your affections was just a carbon copy of the next, from the immaculately coiffured hair, to the gaudy watch they would flash to prove they were moneyed, and to the Maserati they had stashed away in their garage hoping it would make up for their tiny cock.  

The vast majority cared about little but themselves. Their egos sat atop mountains of cryptocurrency and NFTs. Mountains that were just as fragile as the identities they held up. A slight gust of wind could send them toppling to the ground, their masculinity destroyed and their wealth worthless. 

You were a hurricane, a destroyer of men. You knew exactly how to do it, and would leave a trail of destruction and male tears wherever you went. In the past, you had enjoyed watching as they fell from their pedestals, the silver spoon they were born with falling from their mouths with a clatter. But now, it was simply boring. You had lived out the same story over and over again, and you wanted something new, something exciting and different. 

And you had found that something new on the day that Fernando Alonso had approached you in a bar in Monaco. 

———

“If you’re looking for a sugar baby, you should know I make six figures a day, so you’d better be offering me seven. Then I might consider it.” You say, not lifting your eyes from your half-empty espresso martini on the bar. 

“I was going to offer to buy you a drink, but I see you don’t need me to pay for you.” He says, and you finally look up from the counter and raise your eyebrow. 

“Hm. How about you buy the first drink, and if you can prove to me that you’re worth my time, I’ll buy you one in return?” You say, and he offers you a sly smirk. 

“Deal.” He says, and he flags down the bartender who immediately makes his way over to the two of you. 

“I’ll have a martini. Dirty.” You say, and the bartender nods.

“Make that two.” Fernando says, and you smile to yourself. 

“What’s so funny?” He asks, and you shake your head. 

“Are you always this easily influenced by the women you meet in bars?” You ask, and he smiles. 

“Only when they have good taste.” He replies. 

“Correct answer.” You say, before finishing the remains of your espresso martini, setting the glass down before you. 

You fish out the remaining candied coffee bean from the bottom of the glass and pop it on your tongue, before biting down with a satisfying crunch. Fernando’s eyes watch you intently as you do so, gazing at your lips with a look filled with hunger. 

The bartender returns with your drinks and you give the man a small smile as Fernando taps his bank card. You notice the familiar logo of a private bank reserved only for the most affluent of society emblazoned on the top of his card and smile to yourself. 

“I must say you’ve lasted longer than most men who agree to play my little game. I usually end up getting stuck with the bill when Daddy’s credit card declines.” You say, and Fernando smiles at you, raising his glass. 

“I have never played a game I cannot win.” Fernando says, and you raise your glass to his, gazing into his dark brown eyes as you clink them together. 

“Well I’ll drink to that.” You say, before taking a sip of your martini. 

“Are there any rules to this game I should know?” Fernando asks, and you press your index finger to your lips in thought. 

“There are no rules. I find life to be more fun without regulation and restriction.” You say, and Fernando nods. 

“Then I can ask your name, yes?” Fernando says, and you nod. 

“It’s (y/n), (y/n) (y/l/n), feel free to google me when you next go to relieve yourself. You’ll find a nice little article from Forbes designating me the seventeenth most successful businesswoman in the world.” You say, and Fernando tuts. 

“I don’t care about that.” He says. 

“Correct answer once again. Now, may I ask your name?” You say, and Fernando smiles. 

“Fernando Alonso.” 

“Wow, you’re three for three so far, and I think you’re the first man to do so in my extensive experience of being approached in bars.” 

“What would be the wrong answer?” He asks, and you chuckle slightly. 

“The most common one is, ‘don’t you know who I am?’ Had you said that, I would have pretended I had no clue who you were and walked away.” You say, and Fernando laughs. 

“So you do know who I am?” He says, and you nod, taking a sip of your drink. 

“I know of you, but I don’t know you. Yet.” 

“You would like to know me?” 

“You intrigue me, I’ll admit. You quite clearly have a strong ego, but you aren’t intimidated by me and my equally large ego in the slightest. So you’re as secure in your identity and your sense of self as I am, and I find that to be incredibly attractive.” You say, and Fernando nods, clearly impressed by your honest assessment of him. 

“Your honesty is welcome. I like it.” Fernando says, taking a final sip of his drink and placing the empty glass on the counter. 

You give him a small smile and empty your glass, placing it beside his before standing from your bar stool. 

“So, will you be buying me a drink now?” Fernando asks, and you chuckle at him as you store your phone away in your handbag and tuck the handle into the crook of your arm. 

“I already have. There’s a bottle of champagne on ice in my hotel room. Let’s go.” You say, and Fernando smiles, clearly holding back a laugh. 

“How are you so sure I would come back with you?” 

“You approached me in a bar, signalling that aesthetically, at least, you were interested in me. You then proceeded to stay while I nursed my martini, made some rather cutting remarks, and played the part of the aloof millionaire. If you weren’t still interested in sleeping with me, you would have excused yourself by now, presumably under the guise of catching up with the man in the booth over there who I believe to be Nico Rosberg, and promptly made a swift exit.” You say, and Fernando laughs in disbelief. 

“You are very good at this game. I think you win.” He says, and it’s your turn to chuckle.

“Oh, love, I invented this game, I always win.” You say as Fernando opens the door to the bar and allows you to step out first into the night before following you onto the street. 

[freevoidman]

Decided to compile my notes on this crossover (fusion?) between Persona 5 and Digital Devil Saga. For anyone familiar with DDS, the beginning of this will come off as a summation of the game’s main mechanical draws, but once we’re past that we get into original stuff.

Basic Premise:

Any human entering the Metaverse has a chance to be afflicted with the Atma Virus, chances increase if the person is under extreme physical or mental duress.

Humans afflicted with the virus gain an Atma Brand: a black mark that appears somewhere on their body. When this brand is activated (indicated by the brand glowing, lines spreading out from the brand, and the surrounding skin turning black) a human can transform into an Avatar.

The brand is visible to anyone, meaning the thieves (and others) need to hide it.

An Avatar is a human transformed into a demon. This transformation is powered by magnetite—a metaphysical substance that can only be found in Shadows, cognitive beings, and humans.

After their first transformation, Avatars will go into a frenzy and consume as much magnetite as possible to ‘fill an empty store’ to put it lightly. Their human thoughts and reasoning will be borderline zero as they focus solely on eating.

Avatars will always crave magnetite, as it is necessary for their survival and continued existence. This manifests as a ‘hunger,’ primarily via intrusive thoughts, cravings, and violent urges.

If an Avatar does not eat, they will eventually go ‘berserk,’ losing all human rationale and transforming into their demon form, rampaging until their hunger is satisfied or they’re put down by another force.

Avatars can transform in the real world—this isn’t limited to the Metaverse.

The Phantom Thieves:

Akira

First one afflicted by the Atma Virus, becomes the de-facto leader solely because he has slightly longer experience corralling his demon (and Arsene is arguable one of the tamer demons)

Because of the general nature of Digital Devil Saga, he isn't a "wildcard" with access to other Personas. This is an Arsene Only run.

Looks virtually identical to Arsene when transformed, the cloth elements of his design are swapped out for more organic elements (scales, cartilage, etc.)

Has the least powerful cravings, but has frequent intrusive thoughts. Is often disassociating to prevent himself from acting on them.

Atma Brand is the Phantom Thieves’ logo—top hat, mask, flaming eye, the works—and is located on his left pec, directly above his heart.

Ryuji

Second one afflicted by the Atma Virus.

Looks mostly skeletal, with black cord-like muscles weaving through and around his bones. Chest is hollow except for a sparking yellow ‘core’ of electric magic. Does not have his big boat :(

Has powerful cravings that he copes with by running/exercising. Purposefully does this in bad neighborhoods to avoid people he knows and take ‘big risks.’ Has gotten into fights with some people during his runs, he wins, and sometimes satisfies his cravings.

Atma Brand is his skull mask with two bones crossed behind it (similar to Jolly Rogers) over his thigh, right over the break Kamoshida caused.

Ann

Third afflicted with the Atma virus.

Avatar form is an anthropomorphic panther with pink fur. From the chest down it has tight, scale-like armor that is multi-layered, somewhat similar to how Carmen’s dress is layered. Has a pair of curled, flaming pigtails.

Struggles the most with intrusive thoughts, specifically related to guilt and disgust at herself for having to do this. Copes by throwing herself into modeling and binge eating sweets.

Sometimes regrets not devouring Kamoshida’s shadow, but whenever she thinks about that she has a depressive spiral and binge eats more.

Atma Brand is on the small of her back and is an all black, negative space rose.

Morgana

The one exception to the rule! He cannot turn into an avatar, but has access to healing spells.

Claims that he’s a human trapped in a ‘permanent’ avatar form, hence why he looks like a cat both in and out of the Metaverse.

Wants to explore the depths of Mementos as he senses something incredibly important at the bottom, but doesn’t have the strength to get further than the first floors.

Believes that it might be a cure for the Atma virus, but he isn’t certain.

Can calm down an avatar’s cannibalistic urges and hunger by making physical contact with and purring. He doesn’t know why this is the case.

Unlike the OG P5 where Morgana pushes for the establishment of the Thieves to use them to progress through Mementos, here the Thieves must continue so they won’t go berserk and can try to find a cure.

As such, Morgana joins to keep them on track and prevent them from going berserk and slaughtering others, as it would only lead to greater harm and prevent Morgana from achieving his own goals.

Yusuke

Fourth to obtain the Atma Virus.

Avatar form is a mix of Goemon’s usual flair (a large patterned ‘coat’, the posturing, etc.) but with some more kitsune aspects. Similar to Ann’s, Yusuke’s Avatar looks more like an anthropomorphic fox with red markings on his face (to match his mask) and three tails, with the longest one bound in red string.

Like Akira’s form, a lot of the ‘cloth’ elements are altered to be layered scales that are more rigid than the baggy, thin cloth Goemon has. His shoes would be altered into keratin-made claws, he wouldn’t have his pipe, etc.

Unfortunately there’s really no good way to describe this through text. If I could draw, I would :(

Has the most experience dealing with the hunger cravings as Madarme would use food restriction as another method to abuse Yusuke.

Copes the best with his new urges, as hunting shadows and eating them does alleviate some of his human-based hunger, though not by much. It’s also arguably the strongest form of independence Yusuke has had in years, as he is able to ‘get his own food.’

Atma brand is, fittingly, on his stomach. It’s a samurai sword crossed over Goemon’s pipe.

Makoto

Fifth to be afflicted with the Atma Virus.

Handles the change the worst out of everyone, has the most intrusive thoughts and disgust, completely refrains from eating anything in hopes of ‘outlasting’ her urges. Morgana needed to be with her almost 24/7 after she obtained the brand, and she’s the least enthusiastic whenever she needs to hunt.

Has regular panic attacks about her morality, which means she partially transforms a lot with the Atma Brand reacting to her stress.

Avatar form is most similar to Anat, in that she’s a mechanical-like human, but with more of Johanna’s design elements. Her head is also more like Alexandrite from Steven universe, in that there’s a normal ‘face’ that can lift up to expose a more monstrous maw.

Atma Brand is on her right shoulder. It’s a flaming wheel.

Nearly got caught by Sae, who saw the Atma Brand due to her high-shoulder shirt for her summer school uniform. Actively breaks dress code after that and is always seen wearing a long-sleaved shirt or jacket.

Futaba

Sixth to obtain the Atma Virus

Willingly afflicts herself with the Atma virus in her own palace (we will get to how in that fic, I refuse to spoil here)

Similar to P5, Futaba suffers from visual and audible hallucinations following the murder of her mother. Her pain reaches the point of her asking the Phantom Thieves to ‘consume’ her, as she knows what they’re fully capable of with her bugs in the café.

Still suffers from hallucinations after her palace is finished, but instead of being about her family berating her, they’re about her eating and getting revenge on her family.

Copes similarly to P5, where she attempts to ignore it and shuts down. Suffers the most in large crowds due to sensory overload and struggles to not bite people. Uses a lot of stim toys, especially ones designed for chewing.

Appearance is one of the more drastically altered from P5 (like how tf am I meant to change a UFO into something vaguely humanoid). Avatar form’s ‘skin’ is the same as her full-body suit from P5 (black with green accent lines). Has long tentacles with bludgeoning ‘bulbs’ at the end, similar to Necronomicon’s tentacles. Futaba’s hair also turns into cord-like tentacles with tiny mouths on the end. Her face lacks any mouths, and instead has wide, circular eyes that take up half her face. The eyes are primarily green, except for when scanning enemies for weakness (blue) or eating (red).

Brand is on her back, directly between her shoulder blades. It’s a series of three concentric circles with a four-pointed star in the center.

Haru

Seventh to be afflicted with the Atma Virus.

Has the most altered story compared to P5, as I refuse to have Morgana run off like a jackass (especially because he would have an incredibly vital role to the team to help them not go insane).

Instead her problems with her abusive fiancé and father are discovered by Makoto, who has been hanging out with Haru for a sense of normalcy ever since she ‘helped’ with Kaneshiro.

Makoto feels indebted to Haru for her emotional support and decides to help out with making him the Thieves’ new target—this aligns with the Phansite poll saying they should go after Okumura.

Haru gets accidentally dragged in when she follows Makoto one day to try and figure out why she was so busy after probing Haru with questions. This leads to her being cornered and attacked by shadows, nearly dying, and having the Atma Virus attach to her. The rest of what happens I’ll save for her fic >:)

Haru’s appearance is another one that’s drastically different from P5. Unlike the large skirt and bodice that Milady has, Haru has a slim, almost statue-like lower-half that appears to be made of stone. This breaks at her stomach, which has a large, fanged mouth (Milady’s skirt breaking open to the gun compartment). Haru’s upper-half continues the statue motif but breaks around her arms, which are more cartilage-like axes. The final break is right above her nose, where her eyes would be. Instead, the ‘head’ of her Avatar form is filled with pink and purple Hydrangeas that mimic her hair.

Haru’s Atma Brand is on her left shoulder. It’s a gatling gun with ‘explosion’ marks around the muzzle.

Akechi

Was afflicted with the Atma virus long before the events of Persona 5.

Has been hunting for years now, primarily does this by running through Mementos.

Usually dedicates a full day to hunting as his hunger is massive. He can easily out-eat what all the Phantom Thieves usually consume in the span of a day.

When he blackmails the Thieves into Sae’s palace, he accompanies them but never transforms. He instead assists the team by shooting shadows or providing healing items.

Avatar form is identical to Loki, literally no notes needed, he’s beautiful.

Atma brand is on the back of his left hand. It’s a chained circle.

I won’t be writing about Kasumi/Sumire or Maruki in this post, as I want their whole shtick to be a surprise when I post the fic about them (also I… haven’t finished p5r… rip me I’ve had a VERY busy year).