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#she has no faith in others to help her because YOU taught her that

bbygirl-obi · 5 months

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Anakin: *teaches Ahsoka to act on impulse, to be independent to the point of acting without waiting or accepting help from others, and to ignore the council when he thinks it's best, and also models all of those things for her*

Ahsoka during the Wrong Jedi Arc: *digs herself into a deep ass hole and blows up her entire life by acting on impulse, being independent to the point of acting without waiting or accepting help from others, and ignoring the council*

Anakin:

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coffeecatcraze · 3 months

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The solo lines during the hotel rebuild in Finale are actually so fucking impactful though.

Niffty: "to build a hotel" - Niffty is the person brought in to maintain what was there; now she's actively working to build something new for all of them. She's not looking at the rubble and seeing a mess that needs to be cleaned up. She's looking at it and seeing something to create with her friends.

Angel Dust: "start with foundation" - Angel was the hotel's first patron; he was really the foundation of it all. Angel's progress is what's been keeping Charlie's dream steady this whole time. Watching him grow has been reassuring her that she's doing something right.

Lucifer: "remedial creation" - Lucifer, who lost faith in humanity after seeing what they did with free will, is remembering the hope he had for them back in Eden because his daughter taught him the potential he saw so long ago.

Charlie: "make the best of what's in ruins" - She's acknowledging that where she saw destruction and failure right after the battle, there's still hope. She's looking at everything that's happened, the successes and failures, and using it to build something better based on her experiences instead of giving up, starting over, or just picking up where she left off.

Vaggie: "new coat of paint" - Paint isn't just decoration. It's the first thing people tend to notice, because it's color. The right or wrong color can make a huge difference in people's opinions. Structure is good practically, but a bright appearance is what draws people in, NOT what's on the inside of the building. As far as making this hotel, Charlie's dream, come true, that ability to draw people in is incredibly important; and Vaggie's been trying her hardest to make that dream come true from the very start. And, just like Charlie, she's acknowledging that a little change is necessary to make this better by learning from what went right and wrong before.

Husk: "new lights across the marquee" - Husk was the least enthusiastic about all this in the beginning. He was only there because Alastor forced him to be. Now that he's seen the hotel actually helping people (Angel being the prime example), he sees it as a place that can give hope and light.

And as a bonus, because it's me so of course I have to...

Charlie + Vaggie: "we're gonna do this, you and me" - Charlie and Vaggie are the ones who started it all. Charlie had a dream and Vaggie was the only one who believed in her. In the beginning, it was just them against all odds; and it's still the two of them swearing to stay by each other no matter what. This line specifically is so incredibly emotional in its depth, and I adore it.

This song went so hard with its rebuild lines AND the Chaggie one, and I just think that's amazing.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel finale #niffty hazbin hotel #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #charlie morningstar #vaggie #hazbin hotel husk #chaggie

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calisources · 2 months

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𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences were taken from different sources about romance, marriage and specially arranged marriage and what that entails. Mentions of affairs, mistresses, wedding ceremonies and medieval talks of what marriage entails follow. Change names, pronouns and locations however you see fit.

Marriage is a marriage, whether it is arranged or not. Both necessitate the same level of dedication.

It’s not an option to be best friends with your life partner; it’s a requirement for a firm foundation in a long-term relationship.

Arranged marriage is not always a bed of roses, but it is possible to achieve with love and faith.

It’s different for women, isn’t it? They have no choice where they go. They grow up in a prison and then get married into one.

Is there anything more courageous/stupid than saying yes to spend your life with someone you have no idea about?

The country was as much of a mystery to me as the man I had married.

One day you’ll be in love with me.

You could be a titled lady.

I have avoided the fate my father had planned for me. Surely it is I who has won, not he.

I do not care about power and wealth, father. I want to marry for love.

But if you were matched, what do you think she'd be like?

We're supposed to be unable to keep our hands off of each other.

In this case the time is not so important for me, the person asking for commitment is.

We are trapped by convention and must marry another.

Every good child knows: duty before your heart's desire.

I am to be a bride, but whose?

I married you to stop the bloodshed, and you keep killing. When will it be enough- when?

I found out soon after we met that Leah’s father had promised her in marriage to some young Pole.

If I ever get into an arranged marriage, I want it to be like theirs.

Arranged marriages require effort; constantly and every day. And where there is love, you want to make these efforts.

A successful arranged marriage can help climb the biggest mountain and build the biggest empire.

An arranged marriage is like wine; it tastes good with time.

You will marry him and do your duty to your House.

You are my daughter and you will do as I say. End of discussion.

Love? What does love have to do with marriage?

He'll honour his duty to family and swallow it.

I was three when my parents promised me. When a deal was struck.

So I was raised to be his wife. I was taught my favorite color was gold because his favorite color was gold. I was told my favorite foods were his favorite foods

I never thought what it would actually be like to have him... be gone.

I was raised for him, and now I am... new. I am brand-new. And I do not even know how to breathe air he does not exhale.

A bride at her second marriage does not wear a veil. She wants to see what she is getting.

Marriage is a financial contract; I have enough contracts already.

The dowry, not the wife, is the object of attraction.

Arranged marriages work like this. The girl is hardly asked and is expected to follow whatever her parents deem fit.

Marry, that marry is the very theme I came to talk of.

Maybe she'll be beautiful. Maybe she'll be rich. As long as she brings swords and men.

Perhaps love is a minor madness.

It doesn't matter who the seed is. The important thing is that it has a place in your womb.

Her maidenhood will seal an alliance and must be kept safe.

Every married woman knows a man can have mistresses and we must look the other way.

All I ask is, that you do not cast me aside. Have mistresses and lovers as you please, but confide in me as I am to be your wife.

A husband’s first and foremost job in a marriage is to protect and love his wife.

Touching without looking had been incredibly arousing.

In my opinion, most marriages are based either on money or the fear of being alone.

I want you in every way there is to want. I want you in any way you choose to share.

I'm free to do with my wife as I fucking please.

The marriage of convenience lasts until you become an inconvenience.

Ours is a marriage of convenience and nothing more.

From now on, you're sleeping in our room. There's no chance in hell I'm letting you sleep far away from me again.

You agreed to this marriage and didn’t even dare to ask my opinion on the matter.

You're going to bend, and so am I. We're going to compromise, negotiate, and distract each other.

Being together means our priorities are going to change.

Men marry because they are tired; women, because they are curious: both are disappointed.

I don't think I am likely to marry, Harry. I am much too in love.

It is certainly romantic to be in love, but there's nothing romantic about a definite proposal.

They are royals, whoever they marry is not their choice but who is better for the crown.

That is a match made in a boardroom.

Once you are wed to another, you will forget me.

I will marry a man who desires me but I have no interest in.

I will not be a secret kept in shadows. Once you are wed, I will leave.

How can I marry them, when I am in love with another? It is not fair to them, that I think of you when I’m with them.

Ever since I met you, no one else has been worth thinking about.

Behave yourself, out here, we are wed and what you do, reflects on me.

You are being sold like a mare and do not care.

Once I bore him a son, he shall be happy, I know it.

We hate one another but for peace, we must wed. At least, let us enjoy this part of the contract.

I am doing this for my family and for the terms you offer.

A marriage is simply an alliance.

All will be well, love can be found in a marriage. If not love, at least, good company.

Do your duty and give him sons. That’s all men want.

I will not be paraded around in a bedding ceremony. I will wed them and bed them, but I will not be humiliated.

You think this title gives me power, but you forget, I am a woman.

I am lucky enough to have options. None who please me but at least, I can choose one.

Come to bed now, husband. It is our wedding night, after all.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #arranged marriage

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astrologydayz · 6 months

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ASTROLOGY FUCKING NOTES2🖤💀

Nobody really knows a person with a 12th House Sun🤔🤔. They hide themselves really well, & project themselves as someone they're truly not. They don't do it on purpose, they're just so fucking private. My brother actually has this placement, and we're practically twins, but I still feel like I don't know him, AT ALL. They hide themselves, because they're afraid that their true selves won't be "enough"/won't be "liked". BUT OFC IT WILL, & IF NOT, THEN FUCK THEM, BABE.

MOON CONJUNCT/SQUARE SATURN people can hate being alone 4 the first two decades of their lives, but later learn 2 be their own best friend, & love it. They "mother themselves 2 life/back2life". They learned the hard way, that everything is better when u don't put your faith in just anybody. They also learned not 2 trust from a young age, because of their mother/father or both parents💀💔.

I've seen people say "that u can choose not to access that specific energy in your chart, if you don't want 2"🤣. Like u can choose 2 get a million dollars tmrw?, IF YOU WANT 2?🤣 come on. Natal charts are a tool 2 c who u are, why you developed that way/what “happens in your life”, and why you're here with the help of astrology. No matter the aspect, it will be present at some point. A chart never lies🔮🤷‍♀️.

MOON SQUARE/QUINCUNX VENUS IN A MAN'S NATAL CHART tells us that he finds it hard 2 understand women. He has "problems" when it comes 2 feminine energies, &with the women he's surrounding himself with🤔. He can have a hate/love relationship 2/with women💋.

VENUS CONJUNCT/TRINE/QUINTILE MONY ASTEROID - 7782) IN SYNASTRY, will cause the asteroid person 2 provide the Venus person with a lot of material gifts👠🛍💄.

IDK why anybody would say that your MC has NOTHING to do with how u look/how people see u! Lol okay. My mentor must have been on drugs when she was taught everything + in all those 43 years she's been in practice then. gtfo. Let me give u an example. 👇🏼

I’ll just tell you everything I see with this aspect.

Kim K = Venus in Virgo in 9th house at 19 degrees - Libra degree) conjunct her MC in Virgo at 28 degrees - cancer degree). She's famous 4 her beautiful looks/people finding her beautiful. she always does things to look "YOUNGER, cosmetic procedures etc. 2 take years off! Growing a big following worldwide of young people looking up 2 her/her being idolized by them. Famous 4 being beautiful/4modelling/fashion/cosmetics - being in Venusian businesses/4 who she dates. she also takes after her MOM, with her looks!!! I know her mom was/is also her manager, & I would include this here, cuz u can actually see that, but I would have to go into details again. Idk if u would find that boring?? as I already wrote a lot. Thanks for making it this far😂.

ASTEROID MEMORIA (1247) IN SYNASTRY can tell u why u feel like you’ve met the other person before, or what memories that r the most "memorable" with the other person🧡🪐🔮.

ASTEROID FANATICA - 1589) IN SYNASTRY tells u what really fascinates u about the other person/what u can become obsessed with, when it comes 2 the other person❕

IF U HAVE A SYNASTRY ASPECT/OR ASPECTS with someone, and u also have it in your natal chart = a very important person you're dealing with! They'll teach u whatever the aspect is/aspects are! And they're meant 2 be the one who teaches it 2u/ or meant 2 be the one who makes that aspect exist in your life. (good or bad).

VENUS OPPOSITE VERTEX/CONJUNCT ANTI-VERTEX IN SYNASTRY is co cute🥹, Vertex let Venus in2 their "private world". Venus is usually not the type Vertex person goes 4, but they’re mesmerised anyway!! “There’s just something unreal about Venus”.

KARMA ASTEROID - 3811) can tell you about your karma! Old karma/Karma you're creating etc. U can use it in in any chart u want2, natal charts, synastry charts, composite charts, Davidson Charts, solar return charts, lunar return charts, progressed charts, ANY CHART U WANT2 BABE!!🪐🤛💥🪐⛅☀🌊.

BLACK MOON LILITH SQUARE/QUINCUNX ASC in a WOMAN'S CHART can show problems with both genders. She can feel left out, not apart of "the group", when it comes to women. And with men = men always trying to run up on her/trying her boundaries, &they're provocative af. People can't handle her here. She will not conform to anyone. She can feel pretty fucking alone in the way she goes about her day to day life. feeling like nobody will ever understand the struggles she has/the pain she's going around with. The key here is acceptance of ones self. She cannot change herself for others sake, she will never be happy. She'll be happy when she chooses herself, & the right people will flock 2 her, right after. They'll See her light, &will not put who she is down, but CELEBRATE. It can also be the complete opposite. She can be a people pleaser, & has internal fights with herself, every day about this. Trying 2 fit in with groups, dating men who's crossing her boundaries, all the time. She either fights people, or she fights herself. SHE HAS 2 STAY TRUE2HERSELF! There will always be people hating on her, no matter how she moves. FUCK THEM. People who are meant 2 be in her life will CELEBRATE HER!! Not put who she is down/make her change. People who can't understand her = she needs2 get them the fuck out.

NEPTUNE CONJUNCT ASC can show a person living in their own "delulu world". They're not really "there" - can be seen as the "dumb blonde". Neptune can cloud their mind, every single day. They're "different"/they change all the time. They can't really be "real" with people. Trying 2 always be friends with everyone, not really having their own opinions, following the pack etc. They can 100% people please.

VALENTINE/AMOR/ 447) - 1221) CONJUNCT MC - They "look like love", &they also project it out. People think they're beautiful. But remember, even tho people know/c them like that = doesn't mean that they're really like that. That's just what they show off/how they're "known" in the eyes of the public/in their career/their surroundings💜.

SUN MAKING AN "EASY" ASPECT2 MOON does not mean that your parents like each other. I have this, and my parents literally can't stand each other. I've seen this more times than I can count. It's about your conscious ego&how you emotionally feel about the way u express yourself/with the way u "show your ego off" - "yin&Yang duality".

I HATE MOON SQUARE URANUS IN SYNASTRYYYYY. Uranus will pop in&out of the other person's life, as they desire2. The Moon person needs support&a feeling of being safe, &Uranus wants other things/aka not worried about the Moon person - Uranus is erratic. WHO GOT TIME4THAT?

MERCURY OPPOSITE NEPTUNE can show us a person being pretty good at lying/coming up with lies easily/Quickly. Having no problems with finding "excuses" 4 what they say/do, &can get other people in on it, 2 lie for them as well. It happens in periods tho, like on & off periods.

Asteroids I always look at first: Nemesis - 128) Amor - 1221), Valentine - 447), Alma - 390), Destiny - 6583), Moira - 638), Eros - 433), Karma - 3811), Kama - 1387), Close - 54902), Apollo - 1862), Child - 4580), Compassion - 8990), Angel - 11911), Yes - 7707), Boda - 1487), DNA - 55555), Fast - 27719), Prey - 6157), Not - 2857), Casanova - 7328), Fox - 16248), Savage - 29837), Pholus - 5145), Fanatica - 1589), Priapus - h22), Sado - 118230), Medea - 212), Nessus - 7066), Dejanira - 157), Hazard - 9305), Mentor - 3451), Lysistrata - 897), Bilk - 4425 - using the other person 4 own material gain).

THANKS4READING BEAUTIFUL❤️🍒 Appreciate u, always.

#hastro community #astro notes #birth chart #astro observations #astrology #astrology notes #asteroids #synastry #black moon lilith #venus

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fallingskiesandrisingseas · 1 year

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Susan Pevensie comes back from Narnia and tries to forget, not because she doesn't believe in Narnia anymore, but because it hurts too much thinking about what she lost.

In Narnia, she was revered, respected. People wrote songs about her, asked for her hand in marriage. She was with her siblings, and she was free, and she could finally stop worrying about her brothers dying in an air raid. She had a people she protected, a land she ruled, and family to look after. She was respected in courts and battefields alike.

Narnia brought other problems, of course. Not all her suitors were kind about her rejection, and Peter and Edmund were expected to lead armies, which meant they were always in the line of fire. More than once had they come home with grave injuries that took months to recover from, even with Lucy's secret potion.

It is this Narnia Susan vividly remembers just aftee she comes back, a wild and savage land where magic roams free, but evil roams free too. It is the Narnia of eternal winter, of giants and ogres, of Aslan dying on the Stone Table. The Narnia of Telmarines, of dead friends, of failed sieges.

England forces her back into obedience, into a mold. Tells her to behave in a way expected of a young lady. Lucy can stay wild a little longer, but Susan has an education to focus on, men to impress. England tells her she is below her brothers again, should get married and have kids.

So Susan tries to forget, convincing herself that the stiff upper lip, tight collars, kneelong skirts, ridicule from adults when she speaks her mind and forced silence is better than the freedom she had in Narnia.

For that freedom had to be paid for in blood. At least in England her family and friends don't risk dying, not after the war.

She alienates from her brothers and sister further. She tells them Narnia was a game, a fantasy. But the difference in faith is also due tk the way she has to hide how it changed her. Peter, Lucy and Edmund do not have to. The boys write long essays about justice and religion, join the fencing team. Lucy dances everywhere she goes and is known to never wear shoes if she can help it.

But the archery club at school will not accept Susan. Neither will the debate team. Her teachers are annoyed with the fact she never slips up, disgruntled at the fact a woman runs rings around them intelectually. Susan is a young woman after a time of war, and all of society would rather she shut up and do what she is told.

Soon, Susan has new friends, new things that matter. All these adult thoughts she can only discuss with her brothers and sister drive her crazy, and there is no one around that takes them seriously. And so she tries to grow up as fast as possible, get to an age where people listen to her again. She forgets so that she doesn't have to deal with the feeling she was meant for much more, to ease the mourning of all that she lost when she kissed Caspian goodbye.

All the Pevensies start forgetting Narnia slowly, the memories fading. Soon none of them remember the names of their generals at Beruna. They forget the smell of battle, the weight of an iron sword in their hands. But they all still walk as if their crowns are on their heads, and ride horses in a way none of their instructors understand. It takes a while before they are back to their Narnian levels, but it is clear to them someone has instructed them before. None of them can figure out what commands they use, however. Is it western style, perhaps? Or maybe rodeo? They cannot have been taught in England, not with the amount of control they can exert with and without saddles, the sense of balance. Some of their teachers are astonished by their academic growth, but others attribute it to the lax education standards after the war. Susan is sold short most often, but all the Pevensie children suffer from arguments with teachers and attitude problems. Teachers generally don't like it if you behave like you are older or more important than them. It's worse because they are almost never wrong, even though all of them feel the effects that having a teenage brain has on their speed of thought and the coherence of their arguments.

The Pevensies deal with these remnants of Narnia in different ways. Susan becomes an actress. She picks West End over Oxford because the stage is a place she is allowed to be free. And since Narnia, dry textbooks don't thrill her like they used to, while the fantasy concepts of spirits and courts and magic and other things thespians work with entince her all the more. Inside her is a longing to become someone else. She knows where it comes from, but she doesn't want to acknowledge it.

Susan plays a queen often, or a diplomat, or a model. Something about her performances have audiences hooked, convinced she was royalty in a different life.

Remembering Narnia hurts. She scolds someone for being reckless with the stage props while teaching them the correct way for a full minute before realizing the person in question is older than her, and doesn't listen to a young woman. He has the same name as her younger brother.

So Susan forgets. But as she carves her way into the elite of old Hollywood, years later, she begins to remember as well. What it's like to have a voice. How it feels like to have people listen.

When Lucy, Edmund and Peter die in the train accident, Susan weeps for days. She knows what she has lost in them. She is now the only person fluent in their interpersonal language, the only one that still remembers the mating call of the centaurs, what jokes a forest spirit makes. She is now truly alone in the world.

Narnia comes rushing back to her during this grieving period. Eventually, she remembers that she used to have a voice, a crown, lovers of whatever gender she wanted. And also how Narnia would have you pay for freedom in blood. They gave up on that freedom to protect her siblings. only to lose them anyways. Suddenly, Susan remembers how Narnia was fair, how a bargain struck was a bargain kept. She remembers the nymphs, the trees in spring. She remembers the beauty of it all.

Later, when Susan is a grown woman and an arrived actor in Hollywood, Aslan begins returning to her dreams. He never speaks to her, but the sight of him gives her strenght. She was once Susan the Gentle, who accompanied Aslan to his death. It is time she returns to being that person.

After the Stonewall riots and during the AIDS epidemic, Susan is the only actress willing to make a public stand. It costs her 2 box office hits and a 3 month ban from the tabloids. But she remembers justice, and the price of freedom. Others start looking to her for wisdom, just like they did all those years ago. Susan feels her quiet strenght returning, her faith slowly coming back.

She stops wishing she could forget Narnia. The magic that was responsible for the memory faded with time. Maybe it was just to protect her from mourning a world where she was so much more.

When Susan looks at the boys coming back from wars in Korea and Vietnam, she recognizes the look in their eyes. Reflected in their behaviour is a maturity that shouldn't be present in teenagers. The loss of innocence, the unrepairable damage to their childhood illusions. It is a look she spent her twenties avoiding mirrors for, because she knew what it meant. No matter what she told herself then, she believed in Narnia. She still does now.

She knows her siblings are in a different place now, and that she revoked her faith in that place, but slowly, as the years grey her hair and wrinkle her face, she begins to believe she may one day join them there. She remembers Aslan as a kind lion, even if he wasn't a tame one.

She grew old in Narnia once, after all. She hopes to die there.

Once a queen of Narnia, always a queen of Narnia

#my most famous post on here is about the Pevensies coming back to England #here are some more thoughts about it.#narnia meta #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #narnia #peter pevensie #lucy pevensie #susan pevensie #susan pevensie meta #idk this concept of forgetting the other world seems fucked up #prince caspian #character analysis #fanfic #edmund pevensie #susan pevensie fanfic #the problem of susan

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hollowed-theory-hall · 15 days

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Harry was never really Dumbledore's man

So, in HBP Harry says himself:

“Well, it is clear to me that he has done a very good job on you,” said Scrimgeour, his eyes cold and hard behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Dumbledore’s man through and through, aren’t you, Potter?” “Yeah, I am,” said Harry.

(HBP, 348)

But, I'm here to argue Harry actually has many many doubts and reservations about Dumbledore throughout all books (even HBP), and I find it interesting how Harry convinced the Wizarding world (and the readers) that he's Dumbledore's man when he isn't. Not really.

(Just makes me all the more annoyed at him calling his son Albus...)

I'm going to go through some examples of Harry showing his doubts about Dumbledore way before book 7. Because Harry is an abused, distrusting boy, and Dumbledore isn't actually an exception to that until very late into the books. And even when Harry chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions, he never fully trusts his judgment.

“D’you think he meant you to do it?” said Ron. “Sending you your father’s cloak and everything?” “Well, ” Hermione exploded, “if he did — I mean to say that’s terrible — you could have been killed.” “No, it isn’t,” said Harry thoughtfully. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It’s almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could….”

(PS, 217)

This quote above is from the ending of Philosopher's Stone and the outlook Harry, Ron, and Hermione have on Dumbledore and his behavior is the same as seen in the later books. So I wanted to talk about each of them and how they see Dumbledore because this quote really sets the tone for the rest of the series.

Ron is doubtful and distrustful. The situation is odd, and he's clever, he analyzed the situation and came to a frightening conclusion — the whole ordeal seemed planned by Dumbledore. And Ron isn't scared of voicing this question.

Hermione, while not always a rule-follower, respects Dumbledore and his authority. A lot. So, she doesn't believe Dumbledore could've planned it as it would reflect badly on his character and authority. Hermione is a very loyal person, and once she decides she respects someone she is willfully blind to their flaws (we see it with her later in the series).

Harry, while he's clever enough to notice the same things Ron did and come to the same conclusion — that Dumbledore planned for an 11-year-old to face Voldemort — he attributes good intentions to Dumbledore. Harry sees the situation and draws his conclusions, but chooses to hope/believe Dumbledore's intentions were good ones.

Harry’s brain seemed to have jammed. He stared numbly at Riddle, at the orphaned boy who had grown up to murder Harry’s own parents, and so many others. . . . At last he forced himself to speak. “You’re not,” he said, his quiet voice full of hatred. “Not what?” snapped Riddle. “Not the greatest sorcerer in the world,” said Harry, breathing fast. “Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn’t dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you’re hiding these days —” The smile had gone from Riddle’s face, to be replaced by a very ugly look. “Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” he hissed. “He’s not as gone as you might think!” Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true —

(CoS, 282)

This is one of the scenes people call to to show how much faith Harry has in Dumbledore (even Dumbledore himself), the thing is, Harry says (in his mind) he's just saying things to try and scare Tom. To try and buy time, or unbalance Tom so he may have a chance at escape.

The important note is that Harry doesn't actually believe what he's saying to Tom. He's just saying what he thinks would bother Tom the most.

Harry had never shared this piece of information with anybody. He was very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort’s wand was something it couldn’t help — rather as he couldn’t help being related to Aunt Petunia. However, he really hoped that Mr. Ollivander wasn’t about to tell the room about it. He had a funny feeling Rita Skeeter’s Quick-Quotes Quill might just explode with excitement if he did.

(GoF, 310)

This part about telling no one about his wand's connection to Voldemort is true. He never told anyone by that point in GoF. Not Ron, not Hermione, not Dumbledore, not even Sirius.

As I mentioned above, Harry is abused and distrustful. He's not at all Dumbledore's perfect soldier who trusts him with everything. In GoF, Harry decides against telling Dumbledore about his dreams and the pain in his scar:

“Your scar hurt? Harry, that’s really serious. . . . Write to Professor Dumbledore! And I’ll go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. . . . Maybe there’s something in there about curse scars. . . .” Yes, that would be Hermione’s advice: Go straight to the headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult a book. [...] As for informing the headmaster, Harry had no idea where Dumbledore went during the summer holidays. He amused himself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, fulllength wizard’s robes, and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion onto his long crooked nose. Wherever Dumbledore was, though, Harry was sure that Hedwig would be able to find him; Harry’s owl had never yet failed to deliver a letter to anyone, even without an address. But what would he write? Dear Professor Dumbledore, Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning. Yours sincerely, Harry Potter. Even inside his head the words sounded stupid.

(GoF, 21)

Harry doesn't wish to share secrets with Dumbledore, nor does he feel comfortable to go to him with his troubles (his go-to adult while Sirius was around was always Sirius). Again, Hermione is mentioned as the one who trusts Dumbledore's authority, in Harry's head, but he's right, he knows her well.

Harry actually spends a good portion of the series purposefully trying to hide information from Dumbledore. (I'm saying 'trying ' because Dumbledore always found out, but not because Harry told him).

“He seemed to think it was best,” said Hermione rather breathlessly. “Dumbledore, I mean.” “Right,” said Harry. He noticed that her hands too bore the marks of Hedwig’s beak and found that he was not at all sorry. “I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles —” Ron began. “Yeah?” said Harry, raising his eyebrows. “Have either of you been attacked by dementors this summer?” “Well, no — but that’s why he’s had people from the Order of the Phoenix tailing you all the time -” Harry felt a great jolt in his guts as though he had just missed a step going downstairs. So everyone had known he was being followed except him. “Didn’t work that well, though, did it?” said Harry, doing his utmost to keep his voice even. “Had to look after myself after all, didn’t I?” “He was so angry,” said Hermione in an almost awestruck voice. “Dumbledore. We saw him. When he found out Mundungus had left before his shift had ended. He was scary.” “Well, I’m glad he left,” Harry said coldly. “If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have done magic and Dumbledore would probably have left me at Privet Drive all summer.”

(OotP, 63)

Harry is angry here, true, but he doubts Dumbledore's idea of what's "safe" for him. He's actually glad for the dementors because he doubts Dumbledore would've brought him over if it wasn't an emergency.

And Harry is right to be doubtful and suspicious. He's right that he's less safe at the Dursleys than at Grimmauld Place. He's right to feel angry and betrayed at literally everyone knowing he's being followed except for him. He's right Dumbledore probably wouldn't have brought him if it wasn't for the dementor attack. Harry is correct in each and every one of his assessments of Dumbledore's character and decisions here.

“No,” said Harry, shaking his head. “It’s more like . . . his mood, I suppose. I’m just getting flashes of what mood he’s in. . . . Dumbledore said something like this was happening last year. . . . He said that when Voldemort was near me, or when he was feeling hatred, I could tell. Well, now I’m feeling it when he’s pleased too. . . .” There was a pause. The wind and rain lashed at the building. “You’ve got to tell someone,” said Ron. “I told Sirius last time.” “Well, tell him about this time!” “Can’t, can I?” said Harry grimly. “Umbridge is watching the owls and the fires, remember?” “Well then, Dumbledore —” “I’ve just told you, he already knows,” said Harry shortly, getting to his feet, taking his cloak off his peg, and swinging it around himself. “There’s no point telling him again.” Ron did up the fastening of his own cloak, watching Harry thoughtfully. “Dumbledore’d want to know,” he said. Harry shrugged. “C’mon . . . we’ve still got Silencing Charms to practice . . .”

(OotP, 382)

Remember I mentioned Harry hiding things from Dumbledore? This is one of such occasions. There are more in GoF that I didn't copy, but this is an example of Voldemort-related, dangerous information Harry is hiding from Dumbledore because he doesn't trust him and doesn't feel comfortable telling him things.

“It’s lessons with Snape that are making it worse,” said Harry flatly. “I’m getting sick of my scar hurting, and I’m getting bored walking down that corridor every night.” He rubbed his forehead angrily. “I just wish the door would open, I’m sick of standing staring at it —” “That’s not funny,” said Hermione sharply. “Dumbledore doesn’t want you to have dreams about that corridor at all, or he wouldn’t have asked Snape to teach you Occlumency. You’re just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons.” “I am working!” said Harry, nettled. “You try it sometime, Snape trying to get inside your head, it’s not a bundle of laughs, you know!” “Maybe . . .” said Ron slowly. “Maybe what?” said Hermione rather snappishly. “Maybe it’s not Harry’s fault he can’t close his mind,” said Ron darkly. “What do you mean?” said Hermione. “Well, maybe Snape isn’t really trying to help Harry. . . .” Harry and Hermione stared at him. Ron looked darkly and meaningfully from one to the other. “Maybe,” he said again in a lower voice, “he’s actually trying to open Harry’s mind a bit wider . . . make it easier for You-Know —” “Shut up, Ron,” said Hermione angrily. “How many times have you suspected Snape, and when have you ever been right? Dumbledore trusts him, he works for the Order, that ought to be enough.” “He used to be a Death Eater,” said Ron stubbornly. “And we’ve never seen proof that he really swapped sides. . . .” “Dumbledore trusts him,” Hermione repeated. “And if we can’t trust Dumbledore, we can’t trust anyone.”

(OotP, 554)

Again we see the same exact dynamic from first year. Hermione is loyal to Dumbledore, not even considering he might be wrong about something, or not have their best interests at heart. Ron and Harry on the other hand, are both open to the possibility that things aren't so simple. They don't think Dumbledore is intentionally harming Harry, but they think he's wrong about Snape. Something Hermione, Arthur and Molly would never consider.

(This is actually the most annoying thing in Hermione's character for me, her unshakable faith in Dumbledore, who doesn't deserve her trust)

“. . . so you see what this means?” Harry finished at a gallop. “Dumbledore won’t be here tonight, so Malfoy’s going to have another clear shot at whatever he’s up to. No, listen to me!” he hissed angrily, as both Ron and Hermione showed every sign of interrupting. “I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here —” He shoved the Marauder’s Map into Hermione’s hands. “You’ve got to watch him and you’ve got to watch Snape too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the D.A., Hermione, those contact Galleons will still work, right? Dumbledore says he’s put extra protection in the school, but if Snape’s involved, he’ll know what Dumbledore’s protection is, and how to avoid it — but he won’t be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?” “Harry —” began Hermione, her eyes huge with fear.

(HBP, 552)

Even in book 6, the book Harry grows the most comfortable and trusting towards Dumbledore, even then, he doesn't trust Dumbledore. He thinks (and somewhat rightly so because he doesn't know of Snape and Dumbledore's plan) that Dumbledore is wrong about Snape. that Dumbledore is wrong about Malfoy. Harry doesn't trust that whatever protections Dumbledore would leave would be enough (and they weren't).

Even at the end of HBP, the point in the series where Harry has the most faith in Dumbledore, Harry still doesn't trust Dumbledore's judgment or his ability to protect the school. Even after Dumbledore calls Harry out on it, telling him the safety of the students is important to him, Harry still tells Ron and Hermione to get the DA to protect the school without notifying Dumbledore.

And Dumbledore raised Harry to feel responsible for the school's safety, Harry is doing what he was "bred" to do. But he does it behind Dumbledore's back, because like every adult, Harry deep down expects to be let down. After all, he's used to saving the school himself.

So, no, Harry never really trusted Dumbledore fully. At least, not Dumbledore's judgment. Harry does believe Dumbledore's intentions are good for the most part, even if ineffective.

“He never told me his sister was a Squib,” said Harry, without thinking, still cold inside. “And why on earth would he tell you?” screeched Muriel, swaying a little in her seat as she attempted to focus upon Harry [...] Where was saintly Albus while Ariana was locked in the cellar? Off being brilliant at Hogwarts, and never mind what was going on in his own house!” “What d’you mean, locked in the cellar?” asked Harry. “What is this?” Doge looked wretched. Auntie Muriel cackled again and answered Harry. [...] Numbly Harry thought of how the Dursleys had once shut him up, locked him away, kept him out of sight, all for the crime of being a wizard. Had Dumbledore’s sister suffered the same fate in reverse: imprisoned for her lack of magic? Had Dumbledore truly left her to her fate while he went off to Hogwarts to prove himself brilliant and talented?

(DH, 135-137)

And in Deathley Hollows, Harry is very quick to start questioning and doubting Dumbledore. Especially when compared to Hermione:

“Harry—” But he shook his head. Some inner certainty had crashed down inside him; it was exactly as he had felt after Ron left. He had trusted Dumbledore, believed him the embodiment of goodness and wisdom. All was ashes: How much more could he lose? Ron, Dumbledore, the phoenix wand . . . “Harry.” She seemed to have heard his thoughts. “Listen to me. It—it doesn’t make very nice reading—” “Yeah, you could say that—” “—but don’t forget, Harry this is Rita Skeeter writing.” “You did read that letter to Grindelwald, didn’t you?” “Yes, I—I did.” She hesitated, looking upset, cradling her tea in her cold hands.

(DH, 311)

Harry is hurt, he feels betrayed, because while he never 100% trusted Dumbledore's judgment, he trusted his intentions. He trusted Dumbledore was good and cared for him. He feels cold and betrayed, showing trust in his intentions. But his readiness to accept Skeeter's and Muriel's accusations so quickly shows he always had his doubts about Dumbledore and they never really left, even if he wanted to trust him, he never did, not fully.

Hermione, on the other hand, who was always loyal and trusted Dumbledore (both his intentions and judgment) 100%, tries to rationalize Dumbledore's actions and convince herself everyone who says bad things about him is lying.

Harry doesn't. Because out of the Golden Trio, Hermione was always Dumbledore's woman, Ron and Harry... not really. Not as much.

“That old berk,” muttered Aberforth, taking another swig of mead. “Thought the sun shone out of my brother’s every office, he did. Well, so did plenty of people, you three included, by the looks of it.” Harry kept quiet. He did not want to express the doubts and uncertainties about Dumbledore that had riddled him for months now. He had made his choice while he dug Dobby’s grave, he had decided to continue along the winding, dangerous path indicated for him by Albus Dumbledore, to accept that he had not been told everything that he wanted to know, but simply to trust. He had no desire to doubt again; he did not want to hear anything that would deflect him from his purpose. He met Aberforth’s gaze, which was so strikingly like his brothers’: The bright blue eyes gave the same impression that they were X-raying the object of their scrutiny, and Harry thought that Aberforth knew what he was thinking and despised him for it. “Professor Dumbledore cared about Harry, very much,” said Hermione in a low voice. “Did he now?” said Aberforth. “Funny thing how many of the people my brother cared about very much ended up in a worse state than if he’d left ’em well alone.”

(DH, 478)

More of how Harry thinks about Dumbledore, showing, again, how he always had his doubts and reservations but he chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions because otherwise, he doesn't think he has any hope to defeat Voldemort. He chooses to keep following Dumbledore's path because he has no real choice but to trust what he sees as the only path that'll lead to Voldemort's destruction. But Harry has plenty of doubts about Dumbledore.

Hermione, on the other hand, has little to no doubts. She doesn't allow herself to doubt.

And this pattern, of Harry doubting Dumbledore again and again, never truly trusting him, just trusting his plan will kill Voldemort... like, how does that lead Harry to want to name his kid 'Albus'? I just don't get it...

TL;DR

Harry likes to say he's Dumbledore's man, but he always had his reservations, even when he choose to ignore them since trusting Dumbledore's plan felt like his only chance at survival. Hermione is much more trusting of Dumbledore than Harry is.

#harry potter #hp #harry potter thoughts #hp thoughts #harry potter meta #hp meta #hollowedtheory #hp theory #harry james potter #harry potter analysis #albus dumbledore

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nolongerapileofashprobably · 10 months

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Botw/Totk Zelda is so precious to me. She’s been through SO much.

From being the heir to the throne, her image tarnished by the fact that despite daily rigorous training, she is unable to access the sealing power that is her birthright. Her mother died before she could be taught and her father was not magical in any way, so all he could do was continue to order her to train. When she tries to expand her research in order to help in some other way, since her magic is stubbornly kept locked away, she is berated, constantly gossiped about, and is referred not as the Princess of Hyrule, but rather the ‘heir to a throne of nothing’. No one had faith in her. No one believed in her.

King Rhoam couldn’t understand and had to act as a King, causing Zelda to suffer even more. These are the reasons Zelda doesn’t like Link in the beginning. Not only can she not figure him out, because he won’t say anything, but she thinks he despises her. And she can’t stand to think about how Link accomplished his goal as a mere preteen by being chosen by the sword. Whereas she has struggled daily to access the sealing power.

And then she finally realizes Link’s own determination matches his own and his dedication is one she can relate to with her own life. So she apologizes. She gets to know Link. She asks why he doesn’t speak much and he trusts her enough to confide in her. They bond through the shared fate to seal away the darkness. And then get to know each other as just Zelda and Link.

It’s the first time either of them can truly relate to someone and they find comfort in each other.

So while she did have the support of the Champion’s and Link, all of whom see her commitment and how much she truly wants to help and despised herself for her inability to access her power, Zelda is still trying to handle the rest of the kingdom and her father’s scrutiny. And that’s an insane amount of pressure on someone who already has an entire kingdom worth of pressure already placed onto them from birth. Imagine knowing that your kingdom not only talks down on you but has no faith whatsoever in you. And it just bogs you down as you hate on yourself and continuously blame yourself for shortcomings not in your control.

That’s what Zelda was going through. And guess what? Link failed. The Divine Beasts failed. Zelda failed. Everyone. Failed.

And the reason was because Ganon had far more influence and power than they anticipated.

People go and paint Zelda as a privileged know it all who is completely stripped of any flaws in ToTK— which is completely ignorant of the canon events. It’s an opinion founded on the fact that Zelda’s development in this game is not focused on the flaws of a teenage girl with the weight of the entire kingdom on her twicefold. Instead, ToTK is focused on Zelda’s growth as a leader which is a concept some people cannot understand, as they are stuck on the flaws Zelda worked on as she matured and embraced her new life (aka she isn’t miserable and stuck in the past).

Zelda is a leader who has, in the span of half a decade, put in place new survey teams, a new military, an education system, and drew in more people to repopulate the desolate land of Hyrule. It’s implied that the Sheikah tech was completely cleared from the land for fear of it being manipulated again (if you go on top of Hateno Research Lab the Guardian is legitimately chained down rather than just placed atop the building with minimal support). Zelda traveled and visited the land of Hyrule, met with various people and began to relearn her kingdom through the sparse population that still existed.

Zelda went around Hyrule and did what she could to strengthen the culture of Hyrule and truly make it a kingdom rather than a loosely strung together ghost of a kingdom. She placed monuments with silent princesses. A flower now described as: “This lovely flower was said to have been a favorite of the princess of Hyrule. They were once feared to have gone extinct, but it's not uncommon to spot them growing in the wild.”

And to have a kingdom that actively adores Zelda, who has grown so much as a person and tries so so hard is finally having her effort seen and appreciated by all. Zelda is loved because the entire point of totk is to show us Zelda having everything this time. She was adored by the people. She was finally in a place with herself and her people that she never had before. She had Link, who never left her side and made themselves a home in Hateno (this isn’t even a shipper goggles moment, this is the basic interpretation of the original game and canonical evidence).

Zelda, even back in the past, was given a supportive father figure and a teacher who also represented a mother figure. She continued to be her nerdy self and research Zonai tech, finally gaining the answers of the Imprisoning War that she so adorably gushed about when they found the ruins beneath the castle in the beginning of the game. Her research wasn’t put down nor her theories dismissed. It’s everything Zelda was deprived of in botw. Everything.

*spoilers for totk ending below*

And that’s the reason her sacrifice is so devastating. Because she chose to give up her life, her mortality, everything she has fought to achieve, just to ensure Link, who she has complete faith in, had the Master Sword to finally rid their Hyrule of the darkness. Zelda made that choice thinking there was no possibility of her coming back.

So to completely dismiss Zelda because she is saved by the two parental parents is absurd? Zelda made a choice that would end life as she knew it just to save the home she built back.

There’s also people blaming Zelda for not putting Ganon and Ganondorf together but the thing is that she did have a theory? And she did speak out about her uneasiness of Rauru reaching out to Ganondorf? Which, btw, is an echo of OoT Zelda warning her father of Ganondorf’s evil intent, only for it to be ignored by the king (who dies for his mistake). That sounds familiar, right? Because it should. The Zelda universe is pretty much founded upon reoccurring factors each age that ultimately lead up to a catastrophic event or other tragedy.

Yes, this is rather dull when you look at it from a broad perspective— but that’s the case with a ton of media. It’s in the details and the differences that draw us into the fictional universe of Zelda. People don’t need to love it— nor do they have to abide by these reoccurring factors. In fandoms and such, you can explore different possibilities, swapped roles, darker circumstances, softer fluffier moments, and so on. That’s the beauty of fandoms.

But warping stories and character actions to fulfill a narrative completely opposite of what the canon implications (and actual facts in some cases)… it usually serves the purpose of hating a character. Now, everyone has the freedom to do this. That’s 100% true. But the insane amount of takes I have seen, particularly regarding Zelda in ToTK, led me to write this post that explores her actions and developments from a pretty strict canonical perspective. Obviously, I am biased and not everyone will agree with me. That’s okay.

I simply find comfort that my interpretation of Zelda in ToTK is supported by the narrative, development, and all the characters (including Link). Because everyone adores Zelda. They all see how much she cares and it’s even said by Manny in Botw that everyone is thankful and grateful for the Princess, because she’s the reason everyone (atp) is still around. Zelda is adored by the survivors not only because she kept the Calamity at bay for a century, but also because she spent time and got to know them.

Which is why it’s so hard for everyone to believe that the puppet Zelda causing mayhem was intentionally being malicious. It’s completely out of character. And because of Zelda and Link’s travels between games, they all know who she is at heart. And that is a healing, compassionate Princess who just wants to know the people of Hyrule once again. This isn’t to erase Zelda’s flaws. It deliberately shows us the stark difference between Hyrule before the Calamity and after it. One looked down on her and made her feel incompetent.

This one now cherishes her and sees her for the hard-working girl she is.

It’s all about giving a character everything they were deprived of and then ripping it away from them. It’s a new sort of growth for Zelda’s character. And yet, she has not lost who she is: a nerd who must ramble about her findings. (To link specifically, but like we all know that)

And that is why I absolutely adore her. She’s phenomenal.

#I have more thoughts on her but I’m currently on holiday so I am a bit busier than normal #this is all things I’ve said before but oh boy does it make me scratch my head when I see takes that are just so outrageously wrong in canon #zelink #totk spoilers #tears of the kindom spoilers #loz totk spoilers #totk Zelda #botw Zelda #totk zelink #botw zelink

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yanmaresu · 1 year

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I have a request please? How would the yandere twst girls react if male darling tries to reject her, but in a way that builds her up? Like telling her that she has so much going for her! “You have a your family, and friends. You’re attending one of Twisted Wonderland’s most prestigious colleges! You don’t need me to complete you, because you complete yourself. If anything I’m the one holding you back!” How would the ladies react? Who would take this rejection well? Please and thank you!

Being honest this is a very unusual yandere scenario I was unsure how to approach it, but it was fun trying to think up how they would react jsjs thanks for requesting <3

━━━━━━━ ∙ʚ♡ɞ∙ ━━━━━━━

Characters: Riddle, Ace, Deuce, Ruggie, Jack, Azul, Floyd, Kalim, Idia, Malleus, Neige.

━━━━━━━ ∙ʚ♡ɞ∙ ━━━━━━━

Riddle will probably throw the ball back in a "You're not going to fix me, I'm going to fix you :)" kinda way. If her darling says he doesn't feel worthy of her then she will make him worthy, everything can be done with hard work and discipline. Just let her take care of it and everything will be fine, her father taught her how to take control. In other words, she trains her darling. However, it sometimes looks like she's molding him more into a househusband rather than helping him.

Ace won't take it that well. She doesn't need that kinda talk ya know? She actually has self-esteem. But if the prefect really thinks that way then there's nothing she can do. Ace will act like everything's ok, but will slowly start manipulating her darling into isolating himself. It's not easy, but if she can mess him up enough so that he depends on her, things would be merrier.

With Deuce it's kind of a bittersweet reaction. The prefect has so much faith in her! She appreciates it, but she was sure she was the one holding him back. What about holding each other down then?

You think Ruggie hadn't considered that? She knows she's lucky to be there, and life isn't going to be all that pretty even if she got a nice education, but she still wants him. It's the hyena's instincts but the fact that she's probably going to be more successful than her darling is attractive to her. She will try to convince the prefect, but if he rejects her, then she will hunt him down.

Jack understands where the prefect might be coming from and tries to talk it out with him, to please don't let himself down like that and that she isn't like that.

Azul has mixed feelings about the rejection. She will try to convince her darling that she doesn't have such dependency issues and that he really is enough. but if he really isn't convinced, then what about making the relationship something mutually beneficial? She really is successful and will continue to grow beautifully in all of her ordeals, but she's left with no time to cultivate relationships, and sometimes having a partner can do wonders when trying to build an image of certain people. Let her darling become her arm candy, she will treat him right, and all he has to do is to be there for her and only her.

Floyd doesn't care, and that lame rejection won't deter her. If he likes her back then what's the problem? They should date, it's not that complicated. Floyd will manhandle her darling around after that.

Kalim will assure her darling that nothing like that will happen! She reminds him of the tale of the princess and her lover who pretended to be royalty. He also thought he wasn't enough, but loving each other solved everything. Really, all her darling has to do is love her :)

Idia was expecting to get rejected, but not like this. What the prefect says doesn't make sense. She can't be completed, nor fixed, she was already messed up from the moment she was born a Shroud, but her darling makes things so much better... He really doesn't need to do much, she already planned to seclude herself anyway, she just needs him with her. So even if he doesn't want to be there, he will.

Malleus will be clear, she does feel like the prefect completes her. He takes up so much space on her mind and her heart feels like it will overflow with how much she loves him, everything feels so much brighter when he's around. She will let him know exactly how she feels, and assure him that with her taking the throne in the future nothing will drag her back, except maybe having her heart broken. If Malleus gets rejected once again, she will abduct her darling. He wasn't meant to rule, so keeping him like a trophy among her possesions works for her.

I like to think the Disney princess thing is strong with Neige. She really is such a positive force, and won't let her darling talk about himself like that. He's wonderful 👏 He's beautiful 👏 He's the love of her life 👏 and he really is completing her, because everyone needs love in their life! and maybe he feels nervous... Neige knows her acting career may intimidate people, with how often cameras glance into her personal life, and how intense some people online may be, but she's sure that once her darling takes his first step into the spotlight, everything will be a trip downhill. Her fans are always so sweet, they will surely hope for her happiness. Just let her take a picture and let everyone know. The scary part will only last a moment.

#yandere #yandere gb twst #yandere female riddle #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere female ace #yandere female idia #yandere female deuce #yandere female azul #yandere female ruggie #yandere female malleus #yandere female neige #yandere female floyd

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creedslove · 9 months

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Still the slick back anon

I have my faith and trust in you and anything that has wet Joel

Maybe sharing that shower in Lincoln with him? Just taking care of him but he has to stay quiet cuz Ellie is downstairs

Post outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: You two besties made me cry and crave Joel 😭😭😭😭 also, the two ideas were so cute I had to get the two of them together

The first time you touched Joel's hair, you were working at the hair salon in Jackson, he hadn't been in the city for a long time, and you weren't a highly qualified hairdresser, but like most of the abilities and professions in Jackson, they were taught and passed on from person to person so the city wouldn't be unattended in some activity in case someone passed away or got unable to work for whatever reason

You found out giving people haircuts weren't as difficult as you thought, all you needed was a steady hand and some practice and soon enough you were able to help out even your boss wasn't around

You still preferred doing men's hair as you considered them easier than women's, but in reality, you were just scared you would screw up someone's haircut and you knew that could mess up someone's self-esteem, it was already a harsh world the way it was, you didn't need to make someone's life a little worse by doing some shit to their hair

But once you got confident, you were able to do it without much worry and you started enjoying it for real, just doing people's hair and seeing how happy they usually got at a very trivial activity

Your boss usually took a lunch break and left you handling the salon on your own when things were slow, which you didn't mind, it meant you often got to go home earlier

And that's how you met Joel Miller: it was right after lunch and he'd taken Ellie for a haircut, as her hair was very long and in need of care

She was very excited about everything, from sitting on the big chair to rinse her hair to the actual haircut, she seemed mesmerized, being the first time she was actually at a salon

You thought it was sweet and you could swear you saw a flick of a smile crossing Joel's face once he saw how happy Ellie was

He was quiet and didn't say much, only giving you his name - which you already knew, after all he was Tommy's brother - and that he thought his brother definitely needed a haircut too, which made you chuckle

However, Joel wouldn't stop looking at you, the way you showed Ellie the things and explained to her exactly what you were doing, being patient at how she absorbed new information

He never really cared about haircuts at all, before the outbreak he would only get one when someone told him to, and after the outbreak when Tess offered to do it with a rusty pair of scissors

She tried her best, but she very often pulled his hair by accident, or the fact she didn't actually have a comb or because Joel's hair was all the time so goddamn dirty

When you finished with Ellie's hair, she was very excited about it, and you helped her make another ponytail, though this time her hair was neat and shiny, and smelling very good

Joel thanked you politely after she flew out of the door to explore the city and you smiled

"If you'd like, I can give you a haircut too, Joel… your curls are very wide and they'll soon be falling over your eyes…."

You offered him and you could swear a hint of blush crossed his cheek, as he cleared his throat and shook his head, saying he couldn't pay, but you shrugged it off

"It will be on the house, don't worry Joel…"

You assured him and asked him to sit down on the chair, taking a quick look at his hair and feeling a hint of sadness to see how his beautiful curls were tangled

You explained him you would need him to sit on the other chair, so you could give him a full wash and untangle as much as you could without hurting him

He scoffed a little, finding amusing you were worried about hurting him with the tangles, after everything that happened in his life, it wouldn't be a hair pull that would cause him distress

You wetted his hair before applying some shampoo on it, massaging his scalp and seeing he closed his eyes in relaxation and let out a low groan

Your fingers were so gentle massaging his scalp and cleaning up his hair real good; you felt a large scar on the right side of his temple, going all the way under his hairline

He widened his eyes the moment he felt your finger on his scar, but you immediately pulled away from it

"I'm sorry"

You said in a low voice and began rinsing his hair washing down all the bubbles and combing it softly; slowly the knots dissolved

So you asked him to sit facing the mirror again and you proceeded with the cut, being careful not to cut off his curls, they were very precious and you wouldn't want him to get rid of them

His hair was silver-fox like but so soft and now it smelled really good

"Do you want me to dry it for you?"

"No, it's fine that way… thank you"

He said a little shy and ran his one fingers through his hair, feeling how clean it was and slick it back, looking at himself in the mirror

"You look really good like that, Joel"

You blurted out feeling embarrassed but also warm on the inside at how he smiled at his own reflection

And after that first interaction, Joel couldn't stay away from you, so he very often came up with excuses to stop by at the salon because having a haircut once a month to see you wasn't enough

So Joel had to gather courage and ask you out and you accepted in a heartbeat

And it didn't take long for you two start dating and in a matter of time, you moved in together

You and Joel couldn't keep your hands off each other most of the time and you couldn't even explain how you felt whenever you saw his hair slicked back

It just stirred something inside of you and you couldn't resist him

But unfortunately, Joel couldn't stay in bed with you all day long, sometimes he needed to go on patrol and you missed him dearly

So you decided to shower and wait for your man, knowing once he got home, you'd be clean up and smelling so good for him, when Joel ended up coming home early from patrol

Ellie was lying on the couch pretending to do the homework when she informed him you were upstairs, so he ran upstairs as fast as he could, wanting to find you in the shower and have his moment with you

He could hear the water running and got rid of his clothes immediately, wanting to join you and spending time with you

You were distracted as you finished rinsing your hair the moment Joel stepped inside pulling you by the waist and getting under the shower

You chuckled as you watched the way he looked like a street puppy caught in the rain, but as if he read your thoughts, he slicked his hair back and you just felt horny for that man

"Ellie's downstairs?"

He just hummed a response, pulling you closer and kissing your lips, your soft naked body against his, in a way he wasn't sure he deserved it but he was selfish to argue otherwise

You broke the kiss and immediately got on your knees

"So you'd better keep it low then"

You winked and took his cock in your hands, pumping it gently as he grew harder for you

You blew Joel in the shower, the pleasure face he had just made you prouder and prouder of yourself, loving his body, his taste and his touch

You loved Joel entirely, but when he had his hair slicked back, maybe you loved him even more, because he was just perfect for you ❤️

____

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal headcanons #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller headcanon #joel miller headcanons #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou show

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libbee · 1 year

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✍️ ASTRO NOTES: loyalty edition ✍️

Preface: Sexual matters have more than just sex in it. Humans are not like animals that mate simply because it is mating season and they are in heat. Humans have greater consciousness and ego attitude. Humans have mental life that can form thoughts, judgments, ideas. Humans have emotional life that can feel happiness, bittnerness, shame. Humans have spiritual life where they see fantasies, archetypal images, do magical thinking (like astro, tarot, divination are magical/irrational thinking). Therefore, we should look at a combination of things when it comes to people.

I have had mixed experience with fire placements. Two people I know both had sun and mercury in 1st house. One native was a self-proclaimed ubermensch, selfish, promiscuous uncomitting, had double standards (i can do whatever i want). The other one is assertive, forceful, faithful to their partner and had double standards (I can do whatever I want). They don't even consider the wants of other people. They are like "Okay, I am done doing what I wanted, party over everyone. Now bye".

Aries and Scorpio are both ruled by Mars, both can be aggressive and bad tempered but the Aries anger is like candle flame (1) quickly lit and quickly blown out but the Scorpio anger is like charcoal (2) takes time to lit - stays hot for longer periods of time - hard to cool down. You can find a Scorpio still angry over something that happened years ago or even happened in their imagination.

Aries v/s Scorpio anger

If you want a faithful partner, their sun or moon should be in a water sign. This is especially for male partners because faithfulness is a personal value. I remember reading how people were shocked that Jay Z could cheat on Beyonce because she is so beautiful, rich, talented!! I think that most people don't understand what it means to be in a relationship. It is about personal value which comes from feelings. Personal value is not taught in school or it is not something you can memorize. Feelings and emotions are two different things. Feeling is how you relate to others. For example, if you feel empathetic for someone going through a tough time, you are using your feeling function. It is the difference between men who say "men are hunters, we are primitives, we want to spread our seeds for better survival of our offspring, we need many women, we are built like that, we think with our dicks" and then there are men who say "My wife is enough for me because I have a deep attachment to her, I cannot betray my feelings for her, I cannot separate my feelings from sex and I only want sex with someone whom I feel love and attachment for".

I would recommend doing tarot pull for each zodiac sign to understand the archetypes better. Zodiac sign = personality; tarot card = subpersonalities within each zodiac sign. It makes reading personalities so much rich experience because each sign has many sub-dimensions and tarot can tell what dimension you are experiencing at a given time.

Fire placements can stay faithful but it is out of convention not feelings for their partner. For example, in their society it is frowned upon to cheat so they resist cheating to keep social image. Sometimes I think that fire placements do a lot of behaviour for social image/performance even if there are no feelings involved. For example, sending 100 roses to their partner as a gift, not because they actually value their partner that much but because it is textbook definition of love and socially admired, it will make them look like a great lover in public.

Look at the relationship with mom, moon sign and house to figure out how a man perceives women, if he is capable of being in relationship and if he is willing to work on marriage or just wants a wedding for formality, household work, children etc.

I like to divide people in different lives, it helps understanding people better. A person has physical life, emotional life, spiritual life, material life, mental life, sexual life, for instance, a man can be sitting on date with you but emotionally he is connected to some other woman. He is physically there but emotionally not. A man can have a great job and bank balance but he is addicted to alcohol. This man is materially fulfilled but spiritually unfulfilled. A man regularly has good sex and that too with many women (or regularly has good sex with wife) and yet gives them all cold shoulder and does not respect/prioritize them. This man has an active sexual life but he is emotionally hollow. Two lives can or cannot align together.

In addition to above, people have a social and private life too. Socially what appears to be such a loving and friendly couple can be totally cold and detached in private life. How shocking! A lot of people do live a perfect enviable life socially, they can recite quotes and wisdom like no ones else but if you get closer to their private life you see how they are opposite of their social image. And if we are not careful, we ourselves can be in delusion and think that we have great life when actually we do not. For example, girls stay in abusive relationship for years because emotionally they think that there is great love and passion even if physically the partner is abusive to them. Then they move on and say 'I always had a gut feeling that something was wrong' it was their spiritual life warning them of what they were not mentally aware. So, it is sometimes recommended to do some serious self reflection if our physical, emotional, mental lives are aligned or we are only living in fantasies.

There are no rule books for life. This is why earlier when I was not much into astro, I used to watch motivational videos/how to content/generic advice for everyone and felt like it would not work for me. But with astro, it helps me be specific to figure out what things will work for me and what will not, based on my personality traits, strengths and weaknesses.

In order to figure out a person's sexuality, we look at their venus and mars planets. We also look at their mother and father complex because the relation with the parent is (taboo trigger) quite incestual on emotional level. When we are born, we are emotionally enmeshed with our parents especially mom. When we grow up, it is now time to break up the enmeshment, this is why in psychology we say that to individuate means to take responsibility for your life and have minimal emotional connection with parents. This sounds like cruelty but it is not.

What I am yet to understand is that if father is sun and mother is moon then why do we only look at mars and venus for sexuality? Sun and moon are just as important factors to determine sexuality. I am not sure if this will offend someone but it is often studied how people who are asexual/LGBTQ or even transgender have some kind of negative mother/father complex (even if it doesn't appear in physical life, it can be emotionally, mentally, spiritually).

Thanks for reading and to be continued.

#aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #pisces #leo #aquarius #sagittarius #scorpio #astro tumblr #astro notes #astrology #astrology blog #astro community #astro observations #astro placements #astroblr #astrology observations

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intertexts-moving · 11 months

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ok ive still been rotating warbreaker in my mind recently & i still gotta say it is SO unserious 2 look at brandon sanderson whose bibliography includes

>warbreaker (extremely religious girl from a small insular community goes to the Big Evil City, goes on a journey of realizing that being extremely dogmatic and self-righteous in your faith is almost always hypocritical, recognizes that the Big Evil City and People are not, in fact, inherently evil, and the alleged sins they commit are actually beautiful and fascinating and morally neutral things, eventually wields and grows to love the very power she was taught to be terrified of and hate by her religion,)

>mistborn (god is dead & i killed him & that is a cause for celebration, god is awful and cruel and must be stopped, god is tired and faded and not very good at helping, god is a teenage girl, the only truly kind god in the entire cosmos is a kind and gentle archivist who has gone to hell and back and is capable of resolving problems and differences into harmony,)

>mistborn era two (dogmatic insular religion CAN be good for some people but it will only be a cage for others & can be frustrating and wrong and harmful and still have good in it too & will haunt them the rest of their life, sometimes you will go your entire life feeling the disappointed gaze of your religious elders on your back and still know the choice you made was the only right one for you)

>stormlight archive (that which you believed was god is dead and possibly was never god in the first place and you have GOT to stop worshipping him it is USELESS it does NOTHING he is DEAD you are calcified in your dogmatic ways and will do incredibly stupid shit in the name of religious tradition, arrogance and pride and bigotry and oppression in the name of tradition and religion will always come crashing down upon their perpetrators, you framed yourself as the innocent victims of evil but you were the evil itself all along)

& go oh my god... sanderson... isnt he like.. mormon... i bet he writes vile shit because he's religious...

#txt #like. TBH.#cosmere #stormlight archive #mistborn

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cherrsnut · 3 months

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Hostage - Chapter 6

Finnick Odair x Healer!Reader

Summary: Up until now, your life has been a solitary one. Being the sole owner of an herbal shop, and apothecary to many fishermen who have been injured. Just when your life seemed to follow the routine you were so used to, your life turns a 360 when you’re suddenly taken away for the 67th Annual Hunger Games. This turn of events forces you to accept the idea the Grim Reaper is stalking close behind you, faster than you had hoped for.

Tags: Extremely Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Typical THG Violence, Forced Prostitution, Forced Lab Rat, Injury, Mental Health Deterioration, Psychological/Physical Torture, Death, Alcohol/Drug Consumption, Medical Malpractice, Fluff (bc they deserve it).

Word Count: 11.7k

Previous // Next

Chapter 6

It was day nine on the training facility. Which only meant it was three days to go until your feet stood on the harsh grounds of the Arena. Every passing day was another needle piercing your lungs, as you noticed the countdown coming closer to its end, you realized it was made harder for you to breathe. It wasn’t the muscle memory your brain was taught, it was as if suddenly you had forgotten the simple act of breathing, and all you could think about was controlling the air currents that sucked in and out of your mouth.

It was like your lungs were holding hostage the innocent air particles that were only out there to help you, and you felt like you coudn’t breathe now that the timer was close to its set.

This past few days you’d started to lose faith in God. It’s not like you blindly believed in him to begin with, but with the pained breaths you were expulsing, you slowly felt any sort of belief from a greater force be spilled out along with it.

Whether it was God, destiny or whatever, you soon struggled to be able to believe in any of that, because right now your position was different. You weren’t in that privileged stance; then, you had a home, work, food and water, you had whatever you needed to live, and it was easier to believe in that then, because you didn’t think about your own survival.

But it was different now, all of that was over. And after the Reaping it was a hard reality check that, the world indeed didn’t owe you a cent. And so, your Deist idea slowly faded into nothing, you simply lost faith in any entity, and at this point even yourself.

You didn’t know what you believed in, and it wasn’t like it mattered anyway. Whatever religion or personal truth was soon going to be vanished along your scattered body on the grounds of the Arena, and it felt very much like you were being executed for a crime you hadn’t committed. Punished for the wrongdoings of another person, and the wrong deeds of their fault had your life shorten, while the true perpetrator was out there enjoying their prolonged one, and they better understood their guilty freedom was in exchange of yours.

Yeah, you didn’t know what to believe in anymore, and it didn’t matter anyway. That’s why you abstained yourself from believing in anything, and if that meant you stopped looking at God’s metaphors in life, then so be it. Or to make it or poetic, you followed what Nietzsche once said “God is dead”.

By day nine it was obvious the Career group was formed. From District 1, we had Ezra and Ava, both loving siblings to each other, but definitely with lethal intentions to the rest of the Tributes, possibly even to their team members when the chance arose.

For District 2 we had the memorable Birch, and Nyla. You had found her curious for her preferred weapon choice to be a fishing spear, since it seemed it was expressly placed for the participants of District 4. But you wouldn’t judge her skills on her weapon, especially when you saw her expertise on handling that piece of weaponry, earning her the fitting title of hunter and it only seemed natural she was welcomed by the Careers.

Then came District 4, with none other than Vito and his double blades. It seemed Birch along Ezra had been interested in him not only through the way he handled the blades. Finnick’s games were still influential, since it only had been two years ago since he came out victorious, and they found his rapid net making to be the deciding factor for their admiration for him.

And lastly, were both Tributes of District 7, known for their lumberjack industry. It only took a quick look to realize as to why they were picked. Carter and Steph both had a muscular build, and they definitely exhuded strength and a feared determination of not backing down without a real fight.

You sighed looking at the formed group. It was disheartening the very knowledge that the strongest were in a group to fight off the weaker ones, and it felt bitterly unfair and personally against against you. Even more when Vito was along them and not you, meaning they saw you just as weak and useless as the rest, deserving to be killed right off the bat. Because for them, you had no use, comparing you with dead weed of the Arena, and they still found more ways to exploit the dry grass than yourself.

Your eyes met the grey tones of the slightly pigmented green of his irises, maintaining contact and understanding of each other’s presence. Carter’s eyebrow ticked up in acknowledgement. The ghost of your eyes haunted his, as he could feel the hoplessness that you body emanated, even when being many feet apart from each other.

You saw his lips curl up into a small smile. He hoped your grasped his gesture, to let it embrace you in a warm hug, all so he wouldn't have to see your present frown and to envelop yourself into his reassurance.

It wasn’t hard to comprehend the meaning behind his expression, he was just trying to make you feel better. But it seemed rather complicated to feel at ease when he already belonged to a deadly group, one of which had a participant that was a psycho and determined on pointing at you with the red dot of his invisible assault rifle.

But you still understood he wanted express his sympathetic side to you. You could imagine, and hoped, his secret hobby or lingering daydream didn’t involve the exciting thought of killing other people, unlike the Tributes of District 1 and 2. But rather, he was like you and Vito, here against their will, and obligated you all to be in the survival game by the choice of an mere outsider. And tho whomever created the Hunger Games to begin with, you didn’t have the prettiest words or thoughts about that person. And of course, you would never say them outloud. By the way Scarlett had reacted each time you cursed, it was like an unforgiving blasphemy to even proclaim your deepest negative thoughts about the Games.

You returned him the smile, unknown to him that your teeth greeted through your anxiety, to calm your scraping words of wanting to hide yourself to the world so no one could find you and, somehow be able to sneak your way out of having to be in the battling grounds. But that scenario was close to impossible, so you stopped yourself from thinking too much about it before you’d consider it.

”I get it, I’d smash. Although Finnick is more of my type though. But let’s get back to training, shall we?” The whispering words brushed past the side of your face, tickling lightly the crown of your ear with his warm breath.

And you stopped, before looking up at him. Your mind blank as it tried to grab onto any reason that was slowly flying away out from your ears. But your brain seemed to be damaged from the from broken wires by Vito’s words, and the sparking of the electricity was dancing around your mind, a sign of the overworked brain from a rush of confusing curiosity over what he meant by those words, which you quickly understood un thus the short time span electrocution that jumbled your brain around.

You mind run miles, and yet you weren’t unable to utter the words.

“With what I’ve seen so far, believe me, girlie. You’ll need it” he snickered at you. Your lips kept on closing and opening slightly, his extra piece of information meant to confuse you further, you knew that, and you still gave into his mind games.

Vito coudn’t help but hung a playful smirk up his mouth, amused by the rush of thoughts flashing behind your eyes. He felt victorious of course, he had his desired outcome so you would come out of that concerned trance he noticed you were having on a regular basis at training. But he didn’t expect you to have come out in such a funnily manner, that he coudn’t help the light giggles. Even more so at the creased brows you formed as you tried to compute further his words.

You managed to say something. “I didn’t know?” you said clumsily with a joking smile. You huffed a smile out at the situation. He lifted his hand up to his lips and chuckled further at your comment. Your expression was priceless in his eyes, and he coudn’t help himself from leaving you stunned like that. Oh, how much he loved doing that to you.

Caesar Flickerman had just called your name, his infamous smile, known to the whole of Panem sat across his well-known face. The many cheers that rang through the stage, from clapping sounds to the impatient voices of the citizens of the Capitol, were awaiting your shining entrance.

A few hours ago, the examination went… not so great. Vito had done his best in teaching you the refined arts of the knives, and you could grasp the basic concept of attcak, slice, and stab… that was it. Two weeks to learn everything about hunting down an vicioius animal one on one seemed like a challenging feat, not say practically impossible. So when you were standing below your future sponsors, it felt very much silly of you to try and use that weapon to show off your non-existent high levels skills, especially considering Vito was next in line. You cringed at that thought for the thousandth time today. It was embarrassing, you could say that much. So much so you didn’t even try to look up at them unless necessary. So when you did, you were met with the bored looks of the experienced viewers that had seen decades worth of fighters, and you wouldn’t be catalonged as one no matter how much you tried to disguise yourself as one.

But it’s not like you could do anything else. If they had even bothered bringing in some herbs or chemicals, you could’ve shown your more scientific knowledge. You knew a hundred ways to elaborate toxic poisons, and a millions ways to create antidotes for each and every one of them, that would’ve definitely earned you a more prideful look on your end. But then again, you were sure the Sponsors weren’t quite interested for you to elaborate remedies for basically anything. Afterall, they only wanted to see people killing each other; they just wanted to see violent and gruesome deaths, they wanted to hear their screams of horror as a familiar face was draining the life away from them, like a vampire sucking every ounce of blood to ensure your dried death. And being a doctor kind of went directly against what they preached. You weren’t like a hidden gem to them, more like a pain in the ass if you were able to heal someone back to life. And in the circle of betting games, the randomized traps scattered across the Arena, had the same element of uncernaty as the Sponsors had now that your card was placed on the table. Because now it meant you could take care of the Tributes. Your extensive knowledge was like a direct threat aganst the chosen Tributes they laid their money on. It wasn't just who would be more likely to come out victorious from a logical perspective, because you were brought into the mix. It wasn’t just strength, ability, and speed what they had to analyze, but also an element of luck. And unfortunately for them, that was something that coudn’t be measured in a logical way.

You sighed. The interview was your last chance to make people like you. If your skills wouldn't make them on your side, you hoped that maybe they would try to connect with you more personally. Perhaps if they felt bad about your death, you could win over their hearts. You needed to convince them you dying would only affect them negtively in the end.

You let another shaky breath, and stepped forward. The cling clang the heel needle resonated on the smooth and shining surface you were standing on, only to become completely soundless as you walked over, to none other than the famous blue haired waiting for you. You made sure your thighs turned to hard muscle, careful as to not be clumsy and fall infront of what seemed about five hundred people. Their eyes scanned you whole, so you coudn’t risk doing a mistake in front of all of them. You returned your gaze, shy and nervous as you wondered around the gigantic audience ahead of you.

It looked like a painting from the Impressionist era. Your first description of what was reflecting back your eyes was “A lot of colour”. Many dots of vibrant shapes and colors, raging from the warm tones of yellow and orange, to cooler ones like purple and tale blue; all painted above a black canvas.

The shining lights were flashing your eyes, needing a moment to readjust them to make better off the people of the Capitol. They were wearing odd and eccentric hats, an that was what you had previously confused to be expert brush strokes of an creative artist, was simply just the fashion designs of the Capitol.

Their eyes roamed over your every inch, awaiting what sort of good time you would give them. Whereas for you, they were on a dark canvas, they in turn they saw you against a white one, where your background scenery was filled with many sparkling glitter surrounded your promotional poster, with your face hanging there confidently.

Mr. Flickerman led you to sit opposite him, sitting on a home-like modernized version of an armchair. With the same colour as your dress, the designer was right to add the pillow below you. It was big, for anyone to regain themselves in whichever position they wanted and still be comfortable at the cute armchair. It reminded you of the warm and cozy cafeteria down the street of the Herbal Shop. And if you werte to recommend it to someone, you’d sincerely tell them it was best served under the winter weather with a hot chocolate protecting you from viruses that threatened to infect everyone.

“So Ms. Doctor from Distrcit 4, I’ve heard of something peculiar the other day” he started looking at you intensely. The pause, of course, for dramatic effect. Now you understood where Scarlett was coming from with the way she expressed her emotions. “I heard-”

Another pause. This was starting to feel gut wrenching. The large amount of people weren’t helping either, and you’ve been stuck in a cycle of insecurity of wanting to come across as likeable to them, and you weren’t sure how you could accomplish that. The first impression was was the deciding factor for the initial building blocks of a friendship, and that level of anxiety of the what ifs had your insides flip five times.

“You healed, none other than the Victor of the 65th Hunger Games, our Finnick Odair” his voice all of a sudden strengthened in volume, coming out in thrilled particles that drugged everyone replicating his mood, one of jovial enthisiasm. There were slight gasps in surprise, but definitely a lot of murmuring between themselves. Your eyes opened in shock, you had completely forgotten all about that.

Still astounded, you scanned over the room perfectly, the singular emotion that traveled in the air everyone breathed between each other, was that of simple curiosity. They wanted to hear your next words, they wanted to know what you brought to the table, they wanted to who you were.

This was the great start you needed. Even if it hurt your soul admitting it, you had to appreciate Scarlett's input for spreading this piece of information, so diligently it even reached the ears of the biggest TV host of the Capitol. Not only for your own sake, but as well for hers, you had to make the fullest of this little advantage.

Scarlett understood the public perception and opinion like no other; and when it came to Finnick’s name being brought up, it was your best bet to grow interest for yourself by using him.

You smiled brightly at what he had said. Making sure the shining of the lights reflected on your teeth just the same as the way your eyes sparkled in hopeful optimism. If you needed to sway public opinion to be on your side, this was your best bet to touch their hearts, and who knows? Maybe tickle them a bit to make their insides flutter happily.

You let a giggle escape through the microphone. “Yes” the tone of your voice thrilled with the taste on candied apple, to feed them the explosion of sweet delight down their throats.

“At the time, his fishing team came rushing in my Herbal Shop one day. You know, after they had injured themselves like they usually did” you started widening your grin at what you just came up with. It felt like throwing Finnick overboard, which was only more unfair on his end, now that he wasn’t with you to defend himself from the words that came out of your mouth.

But with these people, it was better the more you spoke, rather than staying idly still and quiet, in hopes the ordeal would pass by to detense the anxiety building up a tight knot from inside your throat. Even better? When your words sounded like a caramelized drink to their ears.

“You know, Finnick can be a little clumsy at times” you admitted. The microphone caught the way your tone dropped a few octaves as if mimicking you were in a vulnerable crowded place, giving away uncommunicated information that would make any Finnick fans squeal from joy. You placed a finger up your lips.

“But shhh, ‘kay? Don’t tell anyone I said that” you opened your mouth, showing your baring teeth to the audience. They laughed at your playful and cheeky personality that you gleefully showed them.

It worked, somehow it worked. But this wasn’t the time to get comfortable, the show was still going, and you’d give them the best version of yourself. You needed to leave your astounded expression for later, when you weren’t in front of televised cameras that were ready to pick apart the little of what you had shown them. Later, you would try to come up with reasons as to why it was so easy to captivate them, with whatever you had said to them.

Your very words that spoke enchantingly brushed the thin line between the truth and the uncertain lie, and to be honest with yourself, you didn’t know if they were either truthful or not. Because that wasn’t what was important right now, you just needed their attention to you.

A sudden realization hit you. They didn’t care about the Tributes, at least not nearly enough as the sponsors did, and that was only because they had a stack of money they were risking losing, a large amount that would make a significant difference in their wallets.

The public just wanted to see a show, and so you’d give them a show. They loved the gossip between the people they cataloged as untouchable, and that was evident with what you had told them about Finnick. If that’s what they wanted, you’d show them your secret facade that seems openly visible for them, as tasty as the sweetest honey they had never been able to come across before. One no matter the riches of the Capitol, they could never recreate that something that felt so pure, yet came from the inner depth of deception. You’d make them feel that a reincarnation of a Tribute like you will never happen again in near the history.

The blue haired chuckled at your words. You’d show them a different kind of spark, to make them feel you were the only one that could cure them from their embarrassing problems of the high society, an escape from their hard reality.

They had the nerve to complain about societal standards when the rest of the Dictricts were dirtying their backs with sweat and earth, whilst they washed themselves in the cash at the expense of your hard unpaid overwork.

Even with those staining feelings in your soul about them, you'd give them what they wanted. In the end you were still a slave of the Capitol, no matter how much you hated it. You shone under the lights of the stage, an eight-pointed golden star in replacement of your dull pupils.

If the wanted this, the show must go on then.

“You are a lovely girl” he started. “But unfortunately I wouldn't place my bet you” he lamented, caressing his eyebrows jokingly. Your heart dropped, and somehow you felt like he could see through your intentions. No, they’re not that smart to realize that. All they wanted was a big fun fest, and desired a good time, that’s why they had come here to begin with.

You gasped, learning from the best, none other than the unbeatable Scareltt. She was probably looking at you right now, Vito, Finnick and Mags beside her, expectant as to what actions you would carry out. You could sense her eyes, a look of determination, and hopeful you wouldn't miss this chance to change your game.

“Mr. Flickerman, you hurt me with those words” you placed a hand directly at your heart, theatrically trying to protect his confession from piercing your heart lika a dagger. You pouted very much staged, and of course in a joking manner.

“I’ll let you know, if you were a Tribute, I would not hesitate in rooting for you” you winked at him cheekily, a sly playful smirk coming up to your face. He only chuckled further at your words, earning you the clapping audience followed with warm laughter.

You could feel it, the way the citizens wanted to have a closer relationship with you. And to accomplish that you would need to captivate them further. Make them feel like there was a close friendship with them, make them feel important by sharing your masking secrets with them, make them believe they were present in your life.

Your lashes opened further at the realization. You just decoded how to make them like you, and you practically could hear your mind sing sang the little tunes of confidence that exhaled your body. This was a different kind of game, one the most cunning with the trickiest mind games would surely win over their hearts. And you had to be the best, so much so none of the other Tributes would beat you in this little game of yours, and you just needed to ace this. Especially when you were the creator of the rules to begin with.

“Tell us a little about yourself” Mr. Flickerman said between chuckles.

“Well, you know I’m a Doctor…” you thought further. “But do you know I’m that of a poison maniac” you admitted out loud. Everyone turned silent, and you could read the question as to what you meant by those yours. Your smile widened at the stunned look of the Host. They weren’t expecting that.

Bingo!

“Do tell us more about it” desired the important Host. “I’m sure everyone here wants to know as well” he directed his attention to his audience, earning the high tones of approval he was seeking. He tilted his face to his side, concentrating his look on your moving lips, impatient to know what you were about to reveal.

You let a dry snicker escape your mouth, one that ringed at the back of your tongue. You eyed him, with another convincing smile. “Being an medic, it’s only natural I give but the best quality medicine out there. And for that, I would poison myself to find the best remedies” you informed. You bit your lip down expectant as to what the reaction of the public would be.

“Wow. What an unexpected turn of events” he finally roared, his voice echoing in every corner of the set. The audience though, stayed quiet, and you could feel them staring in awe at what you had let out.

“Yup. From strange looking fruits, to snake bites. I have tried them all. An of course, that means I’m tolerant to most poisons” you turned to the audience, giving them a cheeky look. You just thought of the best response for this.

“I believe there's a saying that goes by ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’. Next time don’t underestimate me, I have a few cards up my sleeve, Mr.” you giggled through the microphone. Mr. Flickerman simply smiled in amusement. The audience ruptured in an applause, with some people whistling which cut though the noise, at the revelation that you had kept hidden. You only chuckled more in flattery of their recognition of your talent. Your eyes readied on the blue haired, him giving you that of a laughing smile. Maybe it was a bit adventurous of you, but you winked at him jovially, earning him another round of chuckles.

When the noisy ambience died down, the blue haired Host turned serious again. And of course returned his unbearable pause. He knew what he was doing, creating intrigue among everyone that saw his show tonight, making everyone more focused with what he wanted to say. He opened his mouth to finally speak.

“We would love to keep talking to you,” he informed regretful at the sounds of disappointed guests among the public. “but I’m afraid time’s up”

“Aww, Mr Flickerman, you’re totally breaking my heart” you pouted in with a pitiful voice, all part of a playing joke.

“Don’t try to gulttrip me like that” he added, along with the laughs of the public.

You stood up, but before you left, there was something you needed to do to make sure you were the spotlight of the likeability between the Capitol.

“Love you all, and thank you for tonight” your hand placed on your lips, only to swiftly fly off to your captivating audience, blowing out loving kisses to them. And with that, you left the stage. And that you blissful mask was thrown away into the trash once you heard the roaring cheers for the next person behind you.

You never realized just how empty this kind of lively show would give you once the lights turned their focus on someone else. Your heart had turned like an empty void, and you came across something you hadn’t thought about during the show. The joy and elation you were showing was was never there to begin with, and it honestly left you exhausted having to overwork you body to achieve to emotions you wanted to convey.

“Love you all” the words you spoke earlier bouncing around your mind like a broken record, like it was trying to tell you something that you coudn’t quite grasp the concept of. Loving someone, you didn’t know what that even meant. Although you had never been loved by anyone, nor you have loved anyone before; unless motherly kind of love you supposed. But even with Edna, you weren’t quite sure if that was the case. And for the next five minutes you wondered around with that topic of interest, “What’s it like to love someone?” you muttered as you walked down the hallway to meet the rest of your team, already noticing they’re exciting movement towards you.

That question though, would quickly fade into the abyss of amnesia inside your mind, throwing away pieces of information that your brain deemed unnecessary worth remembering. Scarlett practically ran to you to give to the biggest, most suffocating hug you’ve the pleasure to experience, and for a moment you thought she was about to kill you right then and there from the sheer force, before the Hunger Games even commenced. She had really toned muscles, you thought.

You found yourself again at the balcony. It had been your comforting place in a way. When everything felt too real and suffocating, you simply came out to feel the seasonal wind against your face. No matter how high quality aircons are in the Capitol, nothing could beat the fresh air of the still night. Even the incoming noises of the busy city, coudn’t reach the high tower you were standing on. So high up you bet you could brush the texture of the soft clouds, only to find the disappointing reality, and to contrary to what you had hoped for. In return, your offering hand was covered in tiny cold droplets neatly placed on the surface of your skin from the forming rain that was happening inside the spongy clouds.

The cold humidity that exhuded a crashing reality to your silly thought. So it was evident you also felt the freezing particles of the night over your body, and with that, the winds that hide themselves during daytime, travelled further away into their destination under the beautiful moon shine.

You almost expected it to be Finnick, having met him last time in the exact same place, at the very same hour. But what gave away that it was indeed not your mentor’s presence was funnily the smell, it was warm and refreshing. It reminded you of what Athena had said to you days go, the smell of the sea never seemed to leave the sea shells when they touched each other , it was daring and in a beautifully wrapped up overpowered odor.

Vito smelled similar to Finnick, but your Tribute Partner’s was more capturing. It was a nice smell that anyone would willingly drown themselves into a sea of flower petals, and no one opposed to turn themselves under his very submission.

Finnick on the other hand, reminded you of the wild dandelions that grew a top of the mountains. Back home, when you needed provisions for medicine, you liked trekking up to the crown of a mountain about an hour away from your town. It was a wonderland of medicinal herbs, like God himself had planted them all for you. And without fail, you blew air out of those loving blooming dandelions, speaking away your impossible wishes and secrets. Fragile and soft to the touch, as light as the wind blew them through the air into the hidden places over the ocean, that’s how Finnick smelled like.

You looked up Vito. His brown skin glowed with the neon colors of the Capitol, but the real party was the reflection of said colors on his sclera, even more so the void of his black eyes showing that similar of an underground night club where everyone was welcomed, no matter how different they were labeled as by the unfair standards of society.

“Hey” he spoke quietly so as to not interrupt the peaceful stillness of the night. He wasn’t looking at you, and yet you still understood the serious undertone of his voice, already knowing the reasoning he wanted to talk to you. You didn’t need to be a genious to figure that one out. “Hey”

There was a moment of silence. The heaviness placed around both of your shoulders, the grief swirling your very essence into replicating those sorrowful eyes of yours. You huffed out air. It was exactly the same situation like having to see one of your family member's succumb to a lethal disease, fully knowing they weren’t going to make it, and you were left with the slow acceptance that you would never see them again. Never touch them, never feel them, like you somehow had to ignore the footprint they marked on your core memory, and having to live your days as the circle of life took away their presence, and you still too burdened by their ghostly unreal fingers walking along your skin.

It was unfair, because neither you or Vito deserved this, and you both knew this very fact. Why did you have to be punished by the crimes people you never met had atoned for? You have been even able to distract away your anger before, but now it was impossible for your unresolved gut feeling. Your throat squeezed at the feeling of that unfiltered emotion. But there was nothing you could do, because you were merely an ant in the way of a human shoe, the riched and powerful men couldn’t form an ounce of sympathy for you. And why would they? Your merely an insect living in their hunting society; you were invisible to them, so why would they care about what you had to say?

The crashing of your teeth were pressing against each other rather strong, and aggressively. A tight pain from your gums was a reflection that if you kept going, with what felt like an unlimited force, you’d end up breaking each tooth into merely tiny pieces, so small it could could fly away as powder.

A burning tear screamed its way down to you jaw, like a hurt soldier in the name of scalding revenge for taking his loved one away from him..

Vito let a breath out from the agony of the situation he got himself in. He looked at you, finding himself reflected in the same emotion of that female rage that was circling around in a rushed manner through the ducts of your veins.

“Tomorrow’s the day” he just said. And you hated the way he sounded so indifferent about it, like he gave up in that instant, like he had finally come to terms to the situation. But you hated yourself more, because you knew you should feel that way as well, you needed to accept tomorrow would be your grave. But it was one of those hard things in life you coudn’t quite grasp the concept of, it was one of those hard lessons were it only left you more confused every passing second. Because your death would be for absolutely nothing worth sacrificing yourself over for.

Another tear rolled down, this time taking the path to follow down the silhouette of your nose, only to sink down your lips like a damaged ship from a recent pirate fight, leaving you with the saltiness of the sourness you felt at the tip of your tongue.

“I’ll come back to get you. Don’t linger around the Cornucopia unless you want to die from the get go” he murmured the warning. But you were glad he still wanted to follow through the plan, a plan that only happened after the obvious acknowledgement that you were surely going to die if you didn’t have a willing participant to protect you. You were more than glad Vito was by your side.

Yet, you had another thought in mind. One very much different to the words he was speaking, and if he hadn’t felt the very same rage circling around his soul, Vito would have had trouble in trying to understanding what you were referring to.

”I hate them, Vito” you told him. “I hate them so much I could kill every single one of them”

He knew who you were referencing to, the stuck up people of the rich society of the Capitol. Even more so the sponsors whose empathy are as empty as a vacant lot, and he couldn't forgive President Snow for celebrating the Hunger Games for another year straight. To make a whole show about the death of another twenty three children and adolescents, to be nothing but a promotional cultural activity, like a national sport competition that needed to happen for the sake of Panem political affairs.

He tensed the corners of his lips into a frown. The built up tears that he promised himself he wouldn't let spill was threatening just behind his lashes to pour down his cheek. He bit his tongue unable to say anything, complicit of the confessing words that could lead you to your punishment. One that involved scissors, your tongue, no anesthesia and a lot of pain you weren’t ready to face.

Vito blamed you for making him tear up like that. He was trying to hold it, because it didn’t come from a place of sadness but rather the feeling of unfairness anger, that turned in an eternal resentment to seek out justice for the Capitol’s wrongdoings. Your words had hit straight to his chest, the cruel and cold words he welcomed in with open arms, because he had the same sentiment. Unlike you, it seemed easier to hide away that feeling into an old rusty box under a key he threw away into the ocean, so how did you open his chest to reveal his innermost gruesome desires?

The pure of your emotion was shared with him, and both of you cried through the fiery rage of the obligation you two had to complete. Both of you wished for the other to survive, while also drowning in self pity and a silent wish it was them who would come out victorious.

He clasped a hand behind your head and buried your face in his chest, letting you make an emotional mess all over his shirt. So after his invitation to ruining yourself on his clothes, you grabbed a hold of the rich textile behind his back, making sharp and hard wrinkles around were your fingers that were creating a fist, a burning sensation on your fingers from the slight rash at the stong grip.

And there the both of you stayed, venting away the crucial and clouding desires to take down this Roman Empire to build another one, based directly by your conjoined ideals. Ones you were sure the people from the future would look down upon your current systematic one, to preach your imaginary one.

A whimper escaped your lips, your cries becoming louder in that pit of uncontrollable fire. You were coming back from the wings of fantasy, and crashing down your unprotected landing to earth’s reality. A dry sob from the realization he would be separated from you so painfully soon.

“But the hardest part is leaving you” was what you wanted to say to him. He’d become your only friend, a bond built upon the same unfortunate situation, but still a friend nonetheless. You didn’t want to separate yourself from him. You didn’t want to die, you didn’t want him to die, you just wanted to be with him like this until the end of times, until Earth had become nothing but crust. For someone to find your fossilized rock, and coming across that of an emotive stone of two hugging skeletons, in each other embrace to face the chaotic disaster together.

But you didn’t want to die, you wanted to spend more time with him. You wanted the both of you to lose yourselves on the dry mountains of District 4; to swim and perhaps and eat fish he had gathered from the endless sea, and tell old pirate tell tales.

You didn’t want to die, and you didn’t want him to die. But that wish was simply unrealistic, in which fate didn’t have that wishful plan for the two of you. And fate had already spoken, and that meant you two wouldn't come out of this alive together.

“Fifteen” the countdown was halfway through. Your feet were stoned to the platform, as your veins run cold coursing through your body. You sucked in air, trying to stop the scraping thoughts of death from cutting around your soul.

“Thirteen” you gulped down hard, as a way to stop the gurgling feeling from your stomach to rise to your eyes, and start crying right there and then. The anticipated Hunger Games was close to commence, and for the first time a voice whispered in approval to something you had said earlier, you weren’t ready for this.

“Ten” by then you sucked in many more breaths, the anxiety overgrowing through your every artery, infecting your lungs into a garden of poisonous wild vegetation. Your chest heaved rapidly, trying to stabilize your tumultuous mind. Everything was hazy, and your eyes roamed every corner it could, trying to desperately find and hold onto anything that would put you into the guarding hands of safety. But this was the Hunger Games, you knew better than to blindly trust something or someone. And when it came to the Gamemakers, when you turned your back, their betrayal was exactly like a Judas kiss.

“Where’s Vito?” your voice got lost in the immense silence that surrounded you. He wasn’t next to you, and in his stead came the features of the terrified girl from District 5. Her brunette hair braided into twined low tails, giving her the absolute most innocent look on her.

Ice touched your wrists, hurting the passing blood that was blocking your veins at the sight, already grimly visualizing her end.

Your eyes started to water, “Where is he?” your chest was rising and lowering in uncontrollable rhythmic fast paces. Your eyes moved fast trying to reach the boy you could trust most in this secluded place. Your jaw trembled a chill, it seemed from the very moment you entered the tube, every shiver that run made incomprehensible shapes on your back like it was foretelling you about something, and it felt exactly like a warning by the way your hairs straightened in electric agony. It didin’t matter how much your body screamed at you to turn around, to not enter the place that was surely going to end up being the graveyard of all the participants. The alert were justified. You were going to die soon, and that what scared you into the shaking fear that echoed in your bones, cliterring against each other.

“Nine” you found him. Vito was looking back at you, the irises of his eyes like the sea before a storm, calm and peaceful, and slowly getting more disturbed by the cruel ripples drawing hungry circles on the water. They were dark, like the clouds that started to cover the sky of the ocean, and soon the electrical particles would float around in the air, welcoming the thunders and lightnings that had been anticipating to come out, to free their violence through the sea.

He gestured his head behind him, away from the Cornucopia that stayed in the centre of the circled Tributes. He was calm and collected, he was ready to face this, something your weren’t. He wanted you to run away and hide somewhere, just like he said the day before, “I’ll come back to get you”.

You followed his lead, and found yourself overlooking the structure of this place, of the Arena that the Gamemakers had expressly done for the twenty four of you.

Walls, that’s all you could see, worn out walls with wild vegetation escaping the stony cracks of it, that hinted this place had been abandoned for many years. They were as tall as twenty versions of you lined up vertically, and you supposed it was to make any possibility for a Tribute’s escape to be as the thin line of impossibility.

Your fingers curled weirdly at your side, from the tension of your joints. You huffed another air out, your eyes zigzaged around you, scanning the place whole under your heavy gaze. There were a total of six gaps on the walls that surrounded you, so much so it looked like tall hallways, it’s seductive sight whispering to you to cross over them and find out about what forbidden fruit laid at the end of the passageway. It was calling for you.

“Five” ten seconds had already passed. And with that thought, the beat of your heart was drilling in your ears. So much noise, yet everything remained quiet. The wind brushed the cold stones and caressed past your boots. With that you felt the faint finger touches of the breeze, cold and disheartening as it cried out nature’s remorse from having been involuntarily used as massacre artilletry for yet another year.

“Three” your heart beat drums were confusing your already hazy mind, feeling it heavier than what you were used to, and you detested it. You opened your eyes, leaving you with half lidded eyeballs, that were already suffering from blurred nausea. You needed to get out of your hopeless trance, that was whispering and placing bets on another, just how you would die. It was difficult ignoring those voices that screamed louder than messageman through the loud speaker, you needed to cool down your head before the countdown set to zero.

You wished you could've done that. But among the scraping noises from your inner depths, the low murmuring sound of “One” signaled you of something crucial had just started. The monotone voice annuciated the beginning of the Hunger Games. With that, a tear rolled down your stuffed face, its high speed symbolizing the heavy burden that carried the weight of its yearly resolution. The cries and screams of false whisfullness, one that not only happened inside the Arena, but it carried away with the very same distressing message to infect Panem with heartbreak.

And just like that. Bang! Everything started, the televised deaths from countless victims. Most of you were vulnerable sheep, waiting another day to pass and hope the big hungry wolves wouldn't choose you for their next meal, all stuck inside a unfair corral that gave them the advantage, and that meant you wouldn't be able to escape unharmed.

You stepped back, one foot out the pedestal. And before you could run away, another hit of nausea smashed you senses.

Everything was going too fast.

Next thing you saw was Ezra with a machete in hand, on top of a girl from District 12, blood covering whatever was left from her face. A splatter of crimson red across his dilated face, a sly small smile tensing his right corner into a sadistic smirk.

Nyla just got herself a long weapon, something similar of a spear, and was already looking at every individual that laid at her sight, including your petrified form suffering from the fogginess that numbed your brain into submission.

You shouted yourself to run, but you legs could only do that in forms of tiny steps back. You remembered the words that Finnick had told you at dinner, “it’s a bloodbath”. Sufficient to cover everydrop up to the fullest limit. All before the next victim, a fourteen year old boy from District 9’s head, almost split into two when Ava smashed an axe on him. It was like the faucet had been stuck and turned on, the bloody water overspilling to the white tiled floors, and staining everything. An innocent red that by the context behind was suddenly turned into an unforgiving shade of anguish.

You witnessed him tripping over a rooted plant, stubborn on staying strongly still, and cruelly be the deciding factor of his deadly prophecy. He tried to get up, and Ava’s much taller body caged him to the ground. With one swing move she stuck the sharp of the axe between his head, so hard when she tried to pull it out she struggled to do so, with traces of raw meat and the inner designs of his brain flying out, and making themselves present in the swirling thoughts around your memory for your further misery. It naturally splattered across her face from the sheer brutality and gruesomeness of the sin she had just committed. But its not like she cared anyway.

And with that blow, that boy was gone. His vitality thick liquid rowing down his head, and making itself noticed with lines drawing a disturbing picture in his face. The red of the blood had lost its colour, and you destested just how it had become a duller shade of crimson, like it was already in its process to rot away, starting off with the blood under the sunlight.

Ava didn’t need to keep going, but she did. She was an unstoppable force that was ready to take down anyone that she considered inferior to her that walked passed her vision, like a vicious lion with blood running down her chin.

That was it, he was gone from this planet, and away from his homeland, away from his comfort place to battle without choice even when he didn’t want to. He was to never come back to his family’s reassuring embrace. He was gone. Forever gone and to never come back again.

Another two steps back. His lifeless head turned unhumanly to you, his eyes were red as if he had cried many hours before coming to his deathbed. The drops of blood drawing lines from the ears down his cheek and nose. His eyes abnormally placed on yours, void of any terror and pain, just nothing. No happiness not sadness, no anger and not an ounce of fright. Nothing was there, just an empty shell, void of any shining pearl. Just nothing. He was gone.

His limp body was turned to you when you finally woke up from your trance, hyperventilating from the confusing and rapid forms and shapes that curled up and fused with each other, to be mixed and shaken up into colourful fragments that screamed threatening lines into your ears. Nothing made sense.

You trembled your jaw, and another tear followed down to your dry mouth. You opened your mouth, almost instinctively to scream away the distress you had built up over the days. Edna always told you there was no use in keeping yourself troubled by your emotions, and if you needed to release them, to scream away so much you could feel your soul screaming along with your body, let it vibrate in waves through your skin to alleviate it as well. Except this was not the timing to be doing that.

Your hand smacked to your mouth, blocking any sound that would give away your terrified presence. Another swarm of tears threatened to run down your face, this time in pouring rain. You gulped down, and with that you managed to drown back your scream.

Then you came across the picture of another girl. A beautiful redhead. Unreal with lightbrown eyes and pointy features. A beautiful red goddess, ruler of all the invading flames, tamer all any fire dragon she quickly claimed. She was like a blooming poppy when you had seen her in training, even more so in the breathtaking dress she had worn in the interview. A slender and shy girl, that what she portrayed herself as, as an innocent and vulnerable flower.

So why was she looking at you like that?

She was coming closer, a weird deranged expression across her lit charcoal features. She looked beautiful then, because now her animalistic eyes had turned yellow and her irises red in the purest form of insaned rage.

She was coming to you, a long knife in her hand pointed downwards, giving you the full view and the future glimpse of your deadly fate that was going to occur in the next minute or two, giving you an advantage of two seconds to understand the situation you were in. Your survival incticts quicked in, and you were glad your breathing corpse was as terrified as your mind at the oidea of the shapr item in you, in her hand to tear away the protective layers and pierce through your loved organs, circling around into a muchy smelly mess, or on the other hand, the greatest meal for those big and hungry vultures had encountered.

She twitched, and that was enough indication for you to run away, to hopefully be able to see the next twelve hours play out, still alive and well, no matter how lucky or ambitious that may be.

She screamed, more like she roared in pleasured challenge. Everything she ppotrayed herself as; from her shyness, her kindred soul, her peaceful nature, she had none of those adoring qualities anymore. On the contrary, she embraced a new side of her that eat away all the remaining good left of her. It was like she forgot the sympathetic teachings that grown ups had instilled in her. She wasn’t human anymore.

You were running for your life. Being someone with great knowledge about corpses taught just how fragile it was to begin with, more prominent injured become somewhat life altering. From broken tendons that hurt after long working hours, to crystal fragments stuck ti your knee could also be form geometrical pain from the scarring after being sat for a few hours.

And you were sure as Hell you didn’t want to find out, even in the small chance you lived long enough to find out.

You looked behind, wanting to see just how far she was. And to your regret the wild girl was just tailing behind you, a hand pushin forward against the air resistance to grab your forearm. You ducked away and turned to your right abruptly, hoping that would be enough for her to lose sight of you. A destructive shriek was all you heard, you were only frustrating her further, and a loud battling yell came out as a ball of fire that burned away her delicate features

You recognized her to be Linette from Dsitrict 8. You were surprised to say the least, you always had thought of that District to be more tame and peaceful, being in civilised cities and not knowing much about the outside world. They were in many instances at a great disadvantage because of this very fact. They dealed with the beloved Capitol’s textiles, and you cursed at yourself from letting that stereotypical thought question her eagerness and ability to come crashing down on you to kill you.

This girl had gone completely rouge, like another one of the traps that the Gammakers had created to kill you all. She didn’t feel human anymore, but rather another one of the puppets for the Hunger Games its exclusive usage to create as much chaos as it could through the Arena, and you wouldn't wait to find out the lengths she was willing to go as her first victim.

There was yet another sound, and even though your were hyperventilating, it oddly sounded like something good had happened, like you weren’t being chased anymore. You noticed your only pair of legs running, and that stalking demon presence gone you stopped. The air came in an out in ragged and heavy breathes, your stomach churned in pain, and you wanted to puke then. You gulped down that disgusting taste away in hoipes it wound’t later come up.

You looked back and scanned where the threat laid ahead of you, only to find yourhopes to become reality, even if they had made you guilty to have think that way about someone. Tears were swelling your eyes red, the pure of the salt irritating and hurting your scelera like your first attempt at diving underwater and trying to enoucter all sorts of beautiful sea creatures, but instead now, it was due to having a racing mtch with a monster that seeked blood and death.

A sob escaped your lips. Your eyes looked back at the returned concentrated stare of the black eyes you longed to see. His irises that were just below a a black tone, and more so a o dark greyish shade looked over your body in making sure you were in one piece, away from danger and hurt.

You were finally near the person you whole heartedly yearned among the chaotic violence. It dawned on you of the smart move you had done on the tran ride to the Capitol, he could protect you. He’d protect you, so you could later look after him.It ist wasn’t for that, you would most likely be dead in this very instant.

You slumped your shoulders down. And you cried, you cried out so much you felt everything else disappear. You breathed in sharp breaths earning the infamous hissing sounds coming from your throat. You moaned as well, because you were scared of everything at this point, and Vito was your only salvation at this moment.

You just wanted to be back in District 4 and be in Edna’s arms. To squeeze yourself in her body no matter how she retorted back many comments, coming at you in defense for her own personal space, that you were stubbornly invading, not caring that she didn’t want you so close to her.

But you coudn’t that, noy one or the other. This started to feel like a personal vendetta against you.

You should’ve have noticed it then, the way his irises clouded reason. He was away, far away from what was surrounding him; the corpse of the girl he was holding, the screams of pained anguish not so far away from the two of you, the cold stale air brushing his skin. He was simply out and switched off. That should have been a warning, because even though you hadn’t spent that much time together, Vito wasn’t the Vito you had grown accustomed to.

His expression was blank, a single drop of blood coming down his cheek, and yet he didn’t seem to care at all. His hand was queezing the girl’s arm, so much the beginning of the purple of a choking bruise was appearing in her forearm. The red head, though, didn’t try to wriggle her way out of him, instead her fingers wrapped themselves on her throat. Vito had given her life threatening injures, and you knew she was breaths away from death. Linnette gurgled as she looked you, the striking eyes of shock directed at you. She, as well as you and Vito knew she was going to die, and that only turned her bloody mess in a tortural refusal she was going to die so soon after the horn rang.

It seemed she wanted to say something, and you and Vito let the silence preserve for her, but she coudn’t say anything. Her last breath was taken away from her, and now she could only fall to the ground in that. She sat on a fetal position, blood scurring off her fingers that still lay squeezing her throat, trying to somehow stop the bleeding of her punctured vocal chords.

Every word she wanted to say would never be heard, being choked down by the meaty blood. She remained there, her body trembling and you hoped her light twitches weren’t from body spasms in trying to wake her from her slumber.

Another choke. Her veiny red eyes founds yours. Linnette opened her mouth to say the words she so desperately wanted to say. Her teeth were covered in brown red, and as she choke again she spit the red liquid that was accumulating in her mouth, overspilling in to the earthy ground. And along with her cut throat, the large quantity of lost blood made a river down the path you had just taken, going back to the Cornucopia to announce her death to the rest of the Careers.

The iron taste in her mouth was overpowering her senses, and soon, that was all she could think off. Her veins were cold as if someone or something had sucked her dry, and she for the first time appreciated the warmth that blood had provided her in the freezing winter season.

She breathed for air. Tiny gasps but still despairing nonetheless. Of course, the red haird had grown tired, and she lamented that all the air she sucked was to be escaped by the gap that Vito had done to her. There was no use in fighting anymore, she had lost. Tears formed in her eyes only to never be shown to the world. They simply got stuck in her lashes as she felt herself dream to another realm.

But you managed to understand one word she said in all the gurgling and choking mess. Her pink lips were pigmented with that of crimson, and as she spat another line of sticky and thick blood, she revealed the thought she had before she had gone completely limp. “Theo” she said in her final hiss.

Sprawled over the grassy ground and accommodated by a bed of her own blood. Her eyes were wide awake looking away from the two of you, wanting her final moments to be from her own introspective, thinking back to her homeland and family. And as the cold she had never felt filled her to her senses, she wanted her last thought to be of Theodore, her boyfriend from back home.

She had hoped you could relay her final words to him, which only filled her death with so much more unforgiving tragedy. Linette hated herself for not being able to say how much she loved him, she wanted to let him know she would never forget him. Even when they would be separated, she would remember him under the sunlight, while she could only fantasize about him from the moon afar.

Her trembling fingers were the last body partsc for her to completely cease from reality, and she hoped you and Vito could hear her unheard unspoken words. “I’m sorry” and she regretted that plead for forgiveness was turned into her final gurgle.

Linnette was sorry for her survival outrage. She wished for you to understand her reasoning behind why she did it to begin with. It was like a theatrical loving tragedy, making the main character of the novel kill in order to be back for the confort of her partner.

But something you didn’t know was that this story was just like that, a love story filled with the elements of melancholy and despair, all in the name to be close to your partners loving heart.

Before she left for the Capitol and into the death game, Theodore had come to her to lament with her. Theo proposed an idea, something that was on the back of him mind for a while, and he needed to expulse that though to her. He pleaded her to come back to him, that he was nothing but a heavy rock without her. He said “Come back, and let’s get married” that’s all he said, and that was sufficient for Linette to risk everything for him, and for a future life withing the warm embrace of each other.

She apologized to you, but if you looked close enough in the rampage of her mind, behind her heavy circumstances laid the final words for not being able to keep her promise to a loved one. She was sorry becasyue she coudn’t do the task that was placed on her, to come back alive in the security of his sweet kiss. She already missed him, and Theodore could only take on the idea of dying to be near his Darling. He was more than convinced to got through Death’s realm to find her, and come back with her and fullfill their lives together away from anyone, just the two of them.

Vito looked at you, somber caressed his expression by having to see her death, but it was especially haunting the knowledge he was the perpertrator of her murder. His finger dropped the stained weapon, that was swam droplets into the dry leaves of the trees towering you two.

His ragged breathings hinted you he was close behind when the chase occurred, a hunter hunting down a carnivore animal that was close behind your form, as it decided your were the her next meal. You hated thinking that, but you had to accept it. In this secluded place where no one would come to help you, you were at the very bottom of the food chain.

The dilation of his pupils spiraling around at the sudden adrenaline charge that sparked every sense in one singular thought, you. He was worried, and that fear was another loud and harder step to protect you, and with that primal surge of energy he completely ignored the voices of his principles and came running behind until he reached to get Linette.

And he had reached you on time.

You looked back at him, calling out his name in a weak and broken down tone, as a fragile as a ceramic vase being hit to the harsh cold floor. His face said something you coudn’t read, he was completely paralyzed and stoic. His eyes were faded into the high of the clouds. The storm you saw before, merely minutes ago was completely gone now, only left with the smoky clouds after the rain, calm but with a clear hint that a devastating disaster had just occurred.

“Vito?” Another cry left your lips. He looked as dead as the girl by his feet. Cold, unmoving, and hollow behind his eyes. But he was fine, he had to be. Vito was standing in front of you, you were seeing his breaths quickening through the movement of his chest. He was alive and well, only he felt dead inside as all the dead corpses lying around the Cornucopia when he had left it behind.

His irises were nothing you had seen before, none of his lively playfulness, nor the broken pieces of crystals that were crying out in pain. He was away from reality, and definitely far away from the life he learned with his family, a journey with not return ticket from his usual life.

It like his soul had left him.

His hands trembled by his side, the blade just beside his feet not only was stained with Linnette’s blood, but also his concious guilt of self disgust. The very faded eyes were stationed on yours, irises still and yet his pupil shaking like a chemical reaction was happening behind his brain. He was so eerily still it out you on edge, and a clear whisper told your to run away from him, readying your legs for another round of running.

But, why were you scared of Vito?

And yet in that emotional turmoil you wanted to answer, his gaze was still directed at you, with nothing. Your Tribute Partner was looking at a picture of his own guilt, one were an invisible pencil drew him with Linnette’s dead body beside him. But it didn’t stop there, no, the pencil was growing bold and recreated the many more murdered corpses it was predicting Vito would commit.

The blurred drawing of red lines, like that of a a spiderweb of blood decorated in the insides of his brain, showing his admission of a guilty killer. There was no coming back now, he stepped away from the stable line of human morality, and into the the abyss of murderous insanity. He was a murderer, and no matter your denying words he knew you would say to reassure him, it could not erase that simple, yet cutting fact.

“Vito?” you called out to him again, a tint of shakiness painted the wall of your throat, making the cried tone of yours break his heart even more. You huffed air expectantly, he was finally looking at you, the real you and not what his imagination tried to trick him with. He turned his fingers into a fist, obligating himself to feel the prickling pain from the stabbing fingernail on his palm, in a way he was trying to indulge himself in some sort of self punishment, especially after seeing your terrified form and dilated pupils.

And as cruel as it maybe, Vito didn’t mind the signing tunes of gratitude your heart whole heartedly sang to him. Deep in his soul, he knew you weren’t happy to have Linnette killed, but rather for saving you on your assured death scene. His eyes softened after seeing yours, scanning your colourful tones from your broken eyes, at least at ease him you were still alive, even against all odds you were still here. And that’s all he needed to know to feel like he could lift the deadly weight off of him.

Vito called your name. His eyes were still void, and the charcoal irises only made him look like empty black holes, powerful enough to suck you in and grab a hold on you, not matter how much your tried to scurry away from him.

“Run” he said. The new facade of Vito was showing up on the Arena. You half expected it was going to occur sooner or later, but you didn’t want to believe that would come in the form of that stoic expression he was doing. But the words he spoke, those were the hard hitting truth of the fantasy you tried to convince yourself was just that, and unreal expectation that only lived in your optimistic fantasy. The voice that you had gotten used to, was stranger to your ears. It was the sound of a thin thread of frost, creating little drawing of asphyxiating ice by your ear drums.

He didn’t repeat himself, looking down at you with nothing but that disturbed face of his. Following your every move as you cried some more, pleading him to stay with you. But it didn’t work, he was still and convinced of the meaning behind those cold words. And after some low sobs you gathered yourself to leave your friend behind, your only friend, the one you would give your life up in order for him to come back to his family.

His voice was echoing the singular words he said, leaving traces of tears down your cheeks and dampening your whole gear from the neck down. You wanted to scream at him, for ignoring your contractual agreement the two of you promised each other to carry, yet you still obeyed him. Even when his very actions were exactly like sending you to your horrible death.

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TagList -> @mushy-mushroom04 @marvelescvpe @meri-soni-meri-tamanna @thegr8estpuff

#finnick odair x reader #finnick x you #finnick #finnick odair #finnick odair x you #finnick x reader #the hunger games #thg finnick #thg x reader #thg

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sneakyboymerlin · 11 months

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I have said it before, but Kilgharrah has a parallel-opposite arc to Morgana. His character is redeemed in the same streak of episodes where Morgana goes from an ally to a major villain. While Kilgharrah was often self-serving and manipulative in the first 2 seasons, this changes by the end of season 2 because Merlin chooses to show him mercy after incapacitating him. It’s the first real kindness that Kilgharrah has experienced in well over 20 years. Whereas, when Merlin shows Morgana mercy by making the deal with Morgause to save her after she’s been incapacitated, Morgana returns more vengeful than ever. Back to Kilgharrah, though…

Not only does he indebt himself to Merlin, he comes to see Merlin in an entirely new way. Before, when he would call Merlin kin, it was in the most literal sense—both are creatures of magic, cut from the same cloth, and should be allies. But now, they’ve formed a bond from that kinship (and in a literal soul connection sense, too, no less). Kilgharrah’s plea strikes Merlin with so much force because they’re both now the last of their kind, and Merlin cannot help but consider and understand what Kilgharrah has been through, despite the destruction he’s caused, because it’s happened to Merlin, too. When they see each other next, this is what they have to say:

Merlin: I didn't think you'd answer my call.

Kilgharrah: Merlin, I could not resist a dragonlord, even if I wanted to.

Merlin: I’m grateful, thank you.

Let’s focus on that: “…even if I wanted to.” Kilgharrah did not want to resist Merlin’s call for help because he’s come to care about Merlin in his own way. This development is easily traced back to Merlin’s show of mercy. It cannot be stressed enough: this was the first kindness Kilgharrah had been shown in over 20 years, after rotting away in a dungeon when he was betrayed in every way possible, suffering from the grief of his entire species going extinct on Uther’s orders. And with this one show of mercy, Merlin changed the heart of a creature that everyone had already dismissed as a monster (the same way Merlin sees himself), one who sought his revenge by razing an entire city to the ground. From the start, Merlin treats him as a person: “Why are you doing this? You’re killing innocent people!” No one who saw him as a mere beast acting on its true nature would ask a moral quandary of him. And in the end, this path leads to Kilgharrah being spared, and Camelot repeatedly being saved as a result.

Kilgharrah’s sincerity in his care for Merlin is consistent in later seasons, and is seen in more than just his rescues. In 4x02, he plainly urges Merlin not to sacrifice himself, despite the fact that Arthur’s life (and thus, Kilgharrah’s ultimate freedom) hangs in the balance.

Merlin: Arthur intends to sacrifice himself to heal the Veil. It is my destiny to protect him; you taught me that.

Kilgharrah: Merlin, you must not do this.

He shortly follows this with something we’ve known since Merlin mended the rift between them in 2x13:

Kilgharrah: From the moment I met you, I saw something that was invisible. Now, it is there for all to see […] It will be an empty world without you, young warlock.

Having failed to convince Merlin to let someone else be the sacrifice, Kilgharrah commends him. Not only that, Kilgharrah mourns him.

This is all to say that Kilgharrah’s actions in seasons 1 & 2 should not be the sole focal point for our judgment of him, when he undergoes such an extreme change of character. Furthermore, there is no reason to believe that Kilgharrah’s faith in the prophecies is anything but genuine. Alongside his newfound care for Merlin, his ultimate goal is his own freedom, and he believes that Arthur is the key to that.

Kilgharrah: We need Arthur to live […] Your destiny is to protect the young Pendragon until he claims his crown, and when he does, magic can be returned to the realm. Only then will I be free.

This logic is in line with what occurred in 5x13. Kilgharrah wouldn’t have said or done any of what he does in 1x13 if he did not believe that Arthur’s ascension to king would lead to his own freedom (even if it didn’t take immediate effect). Arthur’s place on the throne made room for an end to the wars, namely the one on magic. Kilgharrah did not make these prophecies up, nor is he the only one to believe in them. Alator and Finna possessed knowledge of the same prophecies, and both believed in Emrys’ vision/mission.

Kilgharrah had great knowledge himself, and tried to share that with Merlin to pave the best path, but he was not all-knowing, and he tells Merlin as much himself. Kilgharrah is merely a messenger, believer, and interpreter. So, he still believes the prophecy has come to pass, even if Arthur did end up dying anyways. The five kingdoms could now be united and magic restored to the land once the war was ended upon Morgana’s death. The prophecy was fulfilled within Arthur’s lifetime, despite the success of Arthur’s Bane. It did not go as Merlin expected, nor how Kilgharrah expected, but it still… went. This is what he means when he says, “No young man, no matter how great, can know his destiny.”

The idea that Kilgharrah simply played Merlin, when he was depending on Arthur as much as any creature of magic, and when he genuinely cared for Merlin as kin, is bad faith conjecture. How they got to the end point still mattered to him (i.e. Merlin must protect Arthur so that he has a chance to fulfill the prophecy), because that potential only existed through Arthur, and they all continued to suffer until that time came. Regardless of the age at which Arthur died, though, he was destined to fulfill these prophecies and return at Albion’s time of need. This, Kilgharrah knew. So is it any wonder that he maintained faith in it even after Arthur died? Especially after Arthur died, proving the prophecies true once again?

Kilgharrah: Merlin. There is nothing you can do.

Merlin: I've failed?

Kilgharrah: No, young warlock, for all that you have dreamt of building, has come to pass.

Merlin: I can't lose him! He's my friend!

Kilgharrah: Though no man, no matter how great, can know his destiny, some lives have been foretold. Merlin... Arthur is not just a King— he is the Once and Future King. Take heart, for when Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again.

No, Kilgharrah did not predict the exact ending, but he did his best to help Merlin bring about the best possible outcome, and he said what he could to comfort Merlin when he was grieving Arthur. Kilgharrah was genuine, and his motives were in alignment with Merlin’s by the start of season 3.

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fastcardotmp3 · 1 year

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Jonathan & El cw: implied past child abuse

The first time he hears her call herself bad it strikes him so hard in his sternum that he can't buck up and do something about it.

Jonathan looks at this girl, his sister, who has saved the world time and again, who had saved his brother from a slow death in a terrible place, and she lays claim to a badness that makes him feel kind of sick, actually.

It's the same feeling he got when Will started calling himself a freak, the same feeling he got when Jonathan himself first started learning to play music loud enough he couldn't hear his parents fighting in the other room, even years before he taught that trick to Will.

It's a feeling, ultimately, that swallows stability whole and leaves you to stumble across uneven ground until you find your footing again.

Jonathan just has to-- find his footing again. And that means someone needs to talk to El.

"Because I am," she says when he asks why she calls herself that, sitting at the kitchen table with two mugs of her latest culinary obsession between them-- hot chocolate.

"But what makes you think you're bad?" Jonathan asks, genuinely curious, genuinely getting thrown to the ground by the shake in the earth. "I don't think you're bad."

El presses her lips together, eyebrows low over her downturned gaze as she looks intensely at the little marshmallows sitting on top of her drink like she's trying to solve the puzzle of the world.

Jonathan supposes she kind of is, in a way, contemplating human nature after spending so many years being told what to be, how to fit within a certain set of parameters, how to behave the way Papa wanted her to.

That's another thing that gives him big feelings. Those feelings could probably be solved by caving Brenner's face in, though.

"I have hurt people," is what she lands on, still not looking up but the scowl line between her brows deepening.

And there's no denying it, she has hurt people; she's killed people, as a matter of fact, and she's watched them die, so there's no point in dodging the reality of that here, in trying to say you didn't mean to when he knows she did.

Jonathan opens his mouth and then shuts it again, though, catches himself in the act of trying to tell her that the good she's done outweighs the bad because, for one, he doesn't know if that's true, and for two, maybe it doesn't matter.

"You know," he clears his throat, elbows digging into the table and shoulders hunching up around his ears, "stories-- like Will's books and Hop's TV?-- have really obvious villains most of the time. Bad guys, right?"

El looks up at him, thinks about it, nods.

"Right."

"Okay," Jonathan keeps going, "well, that's because people have always been trying to find-- easy answers for hard things. Things like good and bad. So they created monsters who only ever hurt and heroes who only ever help.

"But, just because it helps us understand why people do bad things, it doesn't mean that-- none of it is really that-- black and white?"

"Black and white?" El questions, but she's not pushing back against him so Jonathan has hope that this is working in some way or another.

"Like, clear and obvious. Like everything has just one answer, but that's not really the case, is it?"

"No," she says with zero hesitation. "Some things are-- confusing."

"Yeah, they are. People are," he pulls his mug closer to himself and taps his fingers along the ceramic.

"So there aren't... bad people?" she looks confused, like she doesn't believe it, like she's actively losing faith in his judgement, so Jonathan shakes his head quickly.

"It's-- It's more like there are just people," he flounders. "And I really-- I don't think I've ever met a person that's only ever been good or only ever been bad."

El looks down at her hot chocolate. Grabs the can of whipped cream and sprays more on top of her cooling drink.

Doesn't take a sip.

"You've only ever been good," she says it slowly, obvious confusion still touching her tone in ways that don't even overpower the rush of emotion Jonathan gets and knowing she really feels that way about him of all people.

He breathes sharply through his nose, opens his mouth and shuts it twice before he manages to say, "I've hurt people too, El."

It's not going to be an easy thing, Jonathan thinks, making sure she understands that people are largely just the choices they make and that people are allowed to choose to change, to get better, and that the people who hurt her, the people she hurt in return, won't be missed by anyone who loves El but might be missed by someone and that no matter how complicated it is and no matter how messy and no matter how surface level wrong it may be she is still not bad.

It's not going to be an easy thing, made clear by the way she looks at him now and visibly tries to make sense of the fact that someone she had deemed as good could possibly have ever done wrong, because those people in that fucking lab drilled absolutism into her head from birth, but fuck. Fuck.

"You're just a person, is all I'm saying," he implores, because it's going to take longer than one conversation over hot chocolate to make any of it make a modicum of sense, even to him. "You're a person and we love you."

Something shakes loose in her gaze at that, a tension releasing from her shoulders, because if there's one thing Hopper and Joyce and those damn kids have done right it's making this make sense to her.

"I love you too," she tells him, and Jonathan has the self control of a saint to not start crying.

When she adds more whipped cream to her drink, he just follows her lead.

#dot post #dot fic #jonathan byers #el hopper #the byers hoppers #jonathan & el #stranger things #was going through my drafts bc I have the worst case of brain fog I'm trying to shake loose and found this half written #so have this attempt at jostling words out of my body!!#because jonathan and el deserve a sibling moment

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thewickedkat · 6 months

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no one is a hero here. neither is anyone a villain.

yes, Ashton fucked up. they did a Thing--a big Thing! a Dangerous Thing!--and consulted precisely one (1) person about it. that person enabled and facilitated said Thing without really stopping to pause and think about it. Fearne fucked up by not doing those things. Ashton almost died because of their combined short-sightedness.

these things happened. tell me that no one else in the history of ever has done a Dumb and Dangerous Thing. tell me you never have. fuck knows i have. and?

more than anything, Bells' Hells strikes me as a party of Firsts: it's Chetney's first time really doing anything with something that resembles a pack (i say this without knowing a thing about werewolf dynamics in Exandria and at this point i can't be arsed to learn more). it's FCG's first time in a group knowing more of their own provenance, knowing what they are capable of (good and bad), their first experience with faith. it's Laudna's first time around people who aren't actively trying to either burn her home down or run her out of town on a rail, her first experience with something resembling love (despite Delilah's poison trickling into her ear). Fearne is still learning how to people, given that the only other people she really hung with were the Crown Keepers, and that wasn't for a very long time. Imogen is quite literally learning how to human without hearing the inner voices of folk around her, since she got the circlet, and is learning how to define people not by the worst intrusive thoughts skirling across their brainmeats. Ashton has never been around people who weren't ready to immediately take advantage of any kind of weakness perceived on their part, or ready to abandon him at a moment's notice. he is learning that not everything is defined by a quid pro quo. Orym is really the only cat in the group who has been around stable individuals throughout his life, and most of those people have been there since jump for him. that, and he has a calling, a duty, something that he views as greater than himself that he is willing to submit to. he finds comfort in that, where Letters is just now starting to have an inkling. but even he is learning how to mesh into a unit that isn't a squad, or a platoon, or a guarding body. with the Hells, he isn't just defined by that calling--he is a friend, a brother, without the mutual cultural understanding of the Ashari to back it up.

my point is, all of these people are still discovering new things about themselves. they are still young from a maturity standpoint--even Chetney is, because he is being confronted with emotional entanglements that he (assumedly) hasn't had to deal with before.

there are going to be fuckups. there are going to be scares and hurt feelings and things shouted at each other that are difficult to take back and apologise for. this doesn't mean that one should scorch the earth and piss on the ashes when there is a fuckup.

furthermore, understanding why the characters do what they do is not the same as excusing it. reasons are not the same as justifications are not the same as excuses, etc etc etc. i can easily follow the reasoning behind Ashton taking the shard into themself, because who doesn't want to feel special and badass? it went to his head! i can also understand why Fearne wanted to help--it's what you do for friends, yeah? you help them? and if you're kinda crushing on that friend, the urge to go along with what they want is doubly strong. also? no one ever taught her emotional regulation, i don't think. i fully think that's why she got so viscerally angry with what happened, all that fear and adrenalin and terror at what have i done had to go somewhere, and so she kicked Ashton in the head and tried to break their hammer, and it was Chet who recognised that urge to break and destroy and he allowed her to channel it away from harming anyone else.

people do dumb things, sometimes. they do dumb things and say dumb things because all they want to do in that moment is make something else hurt the way they do. and then they regret it, and internalise it, hopefully learn from it, make amends and move the fuck on. both Ashton and Fearne are having their 'oh if it isn't the consequences of my actions' moment, and they're allowed to have their shitty, messy, all-over-the-place feelings about it. there has been quiet screeching in the fandom about character growth and conflict and the 'necessity for all of them to sit down and talk,' and now that such a moment is here, it seems that many people are saying 'wait, not like that.'

Ashton and Fearne are both traumatised individuals, yes. i think Ashton understands a little more clearly than Fearne what that means, with regard to themself, because (and i don't mean to minimise here at all) his trauma is more evident and obvious and 'conventional,' for lack of a better term. Fearne's trauma is more...nebulous and isolating, because she has normally had Nana Morri to prevent giant fuckups like this, or worst-case, fix those fuckups. as a result, it's entirely possible that Fearne doesn't really grok just how real and bad not thinking things through can be. this doesn't make her naive or a babe in the woods at all, but there is a vast difference between being aware of the potential for something to break bad, and then seeing a good friend explode in front of your face. i dunno, i'm spitballing here.

there are no heroes, nor are there villains. just folk--messy, self-centred, short-sighted folk. let them have their fuckups without putting any of them on crosses or pedestals.

#critical role #cr spoilers #cr meta #cr disc #i guess?#except Delilah. that bitch is a villain and i am Tired of her.

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coraniaid · 7 months

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I really think Season 7 would have worked so much better if Kennedy was a Slayer from the start, not a Potential.

The show is already very clear that Kennedy is, narratively, the most important of the Potentials. She gets almost as much speaking time in Season 7 as all the other Potentials combined (as well as having far more speaking time and appearing in more episodes than Kendra ever did in Season 2). She's the only one who has any meaningful connection to any other character in the show (except for, maybe, Amanda and Dawn). The writing already positions her as the main voice of opposition to Buffy within the group -- she's already the one most likely to question what Buffy's doing and suggest she could do better -- so why not formalize that? Put her on a more equal footing with Buffy to start with. Make it credible that Kennedy really could take charge and ignore Buffy entirely. Make Kennedy the Slayer who was called when Buffy died at the end of "The Gift".

Yes, I know that the official canon is that no Slayer was called when Buffy died for a second time because Faith was the "active" Slayer at this point, but I think it's important to note that that was only something the writers came up with between Season 5 and 6. It didn't have to be that way: there's nothing at all in the show's lore to suggest it's canon before then, and in fact people in the show openly talk about Buffy's death possibly activating a new Slayer even after her first death in "Prophecy Girl". And even in Season 6, I don't think we're told definitively that a new Slayer wasn't called (and wouldn't a new Slayer explain why the Watcher's Council aren't around this season?). If you look online, the writers were even being vague about Kendra's death calling a new Slayer during the Season 2/Season 3 gap: none of how this works was ever planned out in detail in advance. More importantly, it's pretty central to the show's mythology that Buffy is "the" Slayer and "the" Chosen One, and it's honestly a pretty silly bit of worldbuilding to accidentally retcon that she was actually only the "real" Slayer for 12 episodes (or even for 56, if you further retcon that Willow's resurrection spell somehow made Buffy the unique active Slayer again).

The idea of Buffy's second death not calling a new Slayer was a mistake, in my opinion. Yes, I get that they didn't want another Slayer showing up in Sunnydale in Season 6. That wasn't part of the story that season was trying to tell. But why would she have to? The world's a big place, and until the last few episodes there's nothing particularly apocalyptic happening in Sunnydale that season. Why couldn't you just have the new Slayer off somewhere else, minding her own business? (In fact, if Faith is the only "active" Slayer, then not resurrecting Buffy means condemning the world to no new Slayer at all until Faith dies, which -- given where she is -- probably wouldn't happen for years if not decades. It's much better, I think, for Buffy's friends to bring her back because they miss her than because the world objectively needs her to continue the Slayer line and the only other Slayer is serving time in prison for murder.)

And imagine how Season 7 plays out with Kennedy as a Slayer from the start. The focus of a lot of the second half of the season is on Buffy teaching the Potentials how to fight, which is perfectly fine as a bit of symbolism and helps set up the events of “Chosen” but doesn't really make much sense in-universe. Potentials just aren't meant to fight vampires. There's never been any indication in the show before this that that was a good idea. "She alone can stand against the demons" and so on, not "she and a bunch of other people who don't have superpowers yet". But make Kennedy a young Slayer -- one who's been prepared 'properly' by the Watchers' Council, taught to follow their rules and procedures, the way Kendra was, but who still lacks much practical experience -- and make the focus of the second half of the season be Buffy (and Faith) trying to teach her what that means ... doesn't that work a lot better?

(And sure, I'd bring the rest of Potentials in a few episodes before “Chosen”, I'd still end the season the same way -- but we really didn't need to see quite as much of them, did we? Let Robin and Kennedy be the big two new characters this season -- let them represent our links to the past and future of the Slayer line -- and don't let the show get overwhelmed by so many other new faces.)

Also, this would let my inner world-building-obsessed pedant stop asking how old Kennedy is meant to be, given that Season 3's “Helpless” establishes that every Slayer undergoes the Cruciamentum on their eighteenth birthday (something that can logically only happen if every Slayer is called at seventeen or younger). Which is not at all a good reason in itself, but ... look, it does irritate me, I'd be lying if I said it didn't. Why does this season include “Help”, an episode highlighting how weird it would be for any of the now adult cast to have a romantic relationship with a high school student, only to then pair WIllow off with a girl who -- by the established rules of the show's own world-building -- has to be younger than eighteen? I mean, the answer is that the show largely pretends Kennedy is older than that, or doesn't address her age at all, but this does contradict what we're told in “Helpless”.

And it doesn't have to. There's an easy fix. I'm not saying that the show shouldn't have had Willow and Kennedy get together. I like Kennedy as a character. I just think she'd make a lot more sense -- both as a character in her own right, and in terms of her place in the broader narrative -- if she was a Slayer from the moment we met her.

#btvs

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