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asterias-record-shop · 1 year

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𓆩[in our next life || III]𓆪

𓆩[masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[next part]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[join the taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Finnick Odair x Fem! District 4 Victor! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, slight angst

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 2.6K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Peeta and Katniss weren’t the first to fall in love after the games. That title went to you and Finnick, your mentor after you were Reaped at the age of fifteen two years after Finnick. After being dragged back into the Games with the Quarter Quell, you both are determined to stop it, no matter what- especially if one of you would gladly sacrifice themselves for the other.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing and other foul language || no smut this chapter || mentions of wanting children || Finnick gets a little frustrated, but it doesn't last very long || you and Katniss have a talk || mentions of forced prostitution || baby names inspired by water || pregnancy test || eating shared candies if that makes sense || you and Finnick cry together, this chapter is really more fluffy and you and Finnick are just loving each other || (All of the warnings I can think of, lemme know if you think i should add anything else! warnings for full fic in the masterlist)

When the interview with Caesar was over, you collapsed into Finnick’s arms, sobbing. You didn’t care who saw, it didn’t matter who saw. As much as you needed Finnick in one area of your relationship, you needed him even more emotionally.

“You did good, darling, so good,” he whispered into your hair, fixing himself to sit down on the floor as your fluffy dress pooled around your sitting form. “Look at me, darling, you did so good.”

You inhale, looking up at him as he grinned down at you. His thumb rubs your chin, a shaky exhale falling from his lips. “I love you, Y/N. Every part of you, forever and always.”

You exhaled, nodding. “I love you, Finnick. Every part of you, until the end of time.”

You hear footsteps as you lay against Finnick’s chest, his fingers drawing patterns against your bare upper back. You probably looked insane as you looked up, tears staining your perfect makeup, but when you saw Peeta and Katniss, you smiled. Your arms wrapped around Finnick’s shoulders as he pulled you closer, inhaling as Katniss paused.

“Smile, Katniss,” you say, exhaling. “It helps them believe you.”

You saw her fists relax as you nodded at her. She nods back, a slight smile developing on her lips before you giggled. “Wider, honey. If I can’t stop these games, maybe you can, Mockingjay.”

Her brow ruffled as Cinna ran over. “Y/N, darling, your makeup! Come on, we need to fix it.”

Finnick sighed. “Cinna-”

“Of course, Cinna,” you smiled as you stood, stepping off of Finnick. “Will you come with me?”

He nods as you grab onto the edge of his shirt, his other quickly taking both of your shaking hands into his own. You smiled at Peeta and Katniss, mouthing ‘smile’ at them as Cinna took you down to the salon to fix your makeup. “I like the blue, Cinna, put more of it please.”

He smiled, nodding as he does as you say. Finnick’s lips stay pressed to your skin, anywhere from your shoulder to the back of your hand. He watched the interviews of Peeta and Katniss, gasping when Peeta pulled the same trick he did. “Guess everyone has baby fever, don’t they?”

You hum. “I hope so. Maybe the more babies we make, the more they’ll want to shut down the games.”

“I wish that was how it worked, Y/N,” Cinna whispers, smiling sadly. “What names were you thinking?”

You purse your lips, pausing. “Finnick, of course,” you say, making him laugh as Finnick squeezed your hand before sighing. “I’ve always loved the name Nautilus. Or Atlantis.”

Finnick smiled. “I like those.”

You laughed before Cinna turned you back into the mirror. “You like?”

You smiled, nodding when you saw how beautiful the makeup looked. “I love Cinna.”

He grins. “Perfect. Now go, you’re going to be late!”

You quickly get out of the chair as Finnick grabs your hand, quickly leading you down to the stage so you both can raise your hands together. You grab the person’s hand next to you, grinning as you raise your arms before Caesar announces, “And we will see them at the wedding of Panem’s Prince and Princess, Finnick and Y/N!”

Your mind was hazy as you went back to the room, leaning on Finnick for support with his hand in yours as you both stood in the elevator. It was quiet on the way up, his hand softly stroking your hair as you squeezed the other. “Fin?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Can you go get me a pregnancy test?”

He pauses as the doors open, walking in with you. “Why?”

“You made me think,” you whispered, sitting on the couch. “I just want to take one.”

Finnick scoffed. “Why if you think we’re going to die?”

You pause, looking at his form; his arms crossed in a way that made his biceps bulge, jaw clenched and eyes glaring down at the floor. “Fin, come on,” you say, sitting next to him to pull him down to the couch. “It was for effect, Finnick.”

“No, no it wasn’t,” he says, looking over at you, gaze softening. “You don’t think I will protect you? I promise you, I swear to you, I will get you out of that arena alive.”

You smiled, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I know you will, Fin,” you whisper, sighing. You let your fingers curl into his golden hair, softly brushing your nose to his. “I will do the same for you, and you know it.”

“You don’t have to protect me,” he says immediately. “It’s been my job to protect you since you were born. I’ve always, always protected you. Remember when we were little and that fucking asshole kept untying your nets and I fucking pummeled his ass? And then-”

“I couldn’t protect you when you were Reaped, Fin,” you say, remembering when his name was drawn and you fought against Peacekeepers to get to him. You ran onto the stage, ignoring the scolding of your mother and jumped into his arms, sobbing until you were dragged away from him.

“Finnick! Finnick, don’t go!” You wailed. He had just turned fourteen, you still eleven and unable to understand the point of the Reapings and what you were feeling.

“Y/N, go, please,” he whispers into your ear, his hands still at his sides. “Go before someone kills you.”

“No! No, I'm not leaving you! Finnick, please, please don’t go. Don’t leave me, you promised,” you sobbed into his shoulder, arms around his torso. “You promised.”

His hands twitch as they slowly wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. “I’ll come back. I promise you.”

And he did. He did come back, but two years later, you went too when you were fifteen. And then, you came back.

Even then, nothing was the same as when you came back. After being sold by Snow, you and Finnick’s relationship was broken. You both blamed the suffering and traumas of the other on yourselves, and because of that, you stayed apart for about a month. It was even more torture than the literal torture of Snow, and when you both saw each other again, you never let the other go since then.

“Let me protect you now.”

He inhaled shakily as you pulled him closer, pressing a kiss to his lips. “We’ll protect each other, Y/N,” he says, kissing you again. “I swear on it.”

You smiled as he paused. “I’ll get you that test.”

You nodded, thankful as he opens the door, and when you don’t hear it close, you look over the couch. When you see Katniss standing there, Finnick’s arms crossed as he raised a brow. “Can I help you?”

“I want to speak with Y/N,” she says before Cinna comes into view.

“Finnick, darling, the rings are done.”

You jump over the couch, still in your long flowy dress. “Cinna! Let me see!”

“Ah!” Finnick says immediately, pushing you away. “No, you can’t see until tomorrow.”

You pouted, whining. “Fin, come on!”

He laughs, pushing you back slightly. “Go. Katniss, come in, Cinna, walk with me.”

You pout as he walks over, kissing your lips. “Get changed, darling. I’m sure it’s hard for you to walk around in that.”

You giggled, brushing your lips against his again. “I love you.”

He stroked your head. “I love you more.”

Finnick walks out, leaving the door open for Katniss to walk in. You hummed as she slowly closed the door. “Where’s Peeta?”

“Speaking with Effie and Haymitch.”

“Oh? So you’re here alone?” You giggled as you walked toward your room, looking back. “Can you untie my dress for me?”

Your words make her inhale, but she steps forward to let her nimble fingers tug at the satin string that tied up your dress. Easily, she gets it undone, and you let it fall from your form and step out of the dress and corset. She gasped as you walked toward the closet, basically completely nude besides your lacy panties that did little to nothing to cover you up. You pull on one of Finnick’s oversized shirts, opting to not wear bottoms as you come out and sit on your bed.

“Well? What can I do for you, Katniss?”

“What is up with you and Finnick?”

You raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“You’re the Prince and Princess!” She yelled, covering her mouth soon after. “You both just… you, especially, you’re like… like-”

“Undeniably attractive?” You say, outstretching your leg with a giggle before leaning back on your hands. “Sexy? The epitome of lust?”

Her face falls. “I’m leaving.”

You laughed. “I’m playing! What’s your question again, Kat? Kitty Kat? Can I call you that or-”

“Why are you so self absorbed? Princess like?”

You giggle. “I was in the public’s eye since Finnick’s games. I was his girlfriend, Katniss, and when I was reaped two years later, we suffered the same fate over again,” your smile disappears. “Finnick and I’s lives are not everything you see on TV, Katniss. Even if you didn’t watch our show.”

She grimaced. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“You’re lucky you survived with Peeta, Katniss. Lucky that Snow wants you dead.”

She glared. “How is that lucky?”

You don’t look away from her, slowly hiking up your shirt. “Because it’s better than him wanting you alive,” you said, showing her a mark on your upper thigh that Cinna always covered with makeup. “Do you know what this is, Katniss?”

She pauses, but shakes her head.

“This is the mark of the people sold by Snow,” you say, pressing on it. It disappears for a few seconds, but comes back. “Only some know what it is. It’s impossible to take off, I have scars to prove it,” you say, pressing on it again to see the faded scar before it comes back. “Your games weren��t even a year ago. If Snow loved you like he did me and Finnick instead of wanting you dead,” you stand, walking in front of her to force her back against the wall. “Then you would’ve gone through the same things as us and come out just as twisted. Maybe worse.”

She inhaled, choosing to stay quiet as your fingers slowly stroked her hair. “You’re beautiful, Katniss,” you say. “And I’m glad you didn’t suffer like us. We do what we have to to survive, Katniss, and if being a whore in both the light of a camera reluctantly and behind closed doors willingly, then so be it.”

You hear the door open, stepping back. “I’m sorry- I am.”

“I don’t need your apologies, Everdeen,” you say, sitting back on the bed as Finnick walks in. “I need you to do two things for me,” you raise a finger. “One, I need you to be my maid of honor. The girls who get pregnant together, stay together. It’s good for popularity.” You raise your second finger. “Two, I need you to end these fucking games. For all of our sakes.”

Finnick pops a candy into his mouth, tapping your chin making you look up at him. He holds your chin, pressing a kiss to your lips before letting the candy slide into your mouth. You smiled, cherry flavor popping into your senses before you pulled away. “My favorite.”

He smiles. “Good thing I have more then,” he says. “Can I have another kiss?”

You giggle, nodding as you pull him on top of you.

“I’m leaving,” Katniss says immediately, turning around before you hum against Finnick’s lips.

“Oh! Wait!” You say as Finnick quickly got off, moving the bag he got before collapsing onto the bed. You go to your dresser, pulling out the box that Cinna had given you after the interview with a gift for the person you chose to be your maid of honor. As much as you wanted it to be Mags, you didn’t want to bring her out to the Capitol to watch you go back into an arena you only wanted to escape.

You took it out, ignoring the two boxes that held your matching gold bracelets before closing the drawer. Turning, you hand her the box. “For you and Peeta. Matching. I want you to be my maid of honor and Peeta to be Finnick’s best man. It works out that way.”

She slowly takes it, gasping when she opens it. She slowly takes out the necklace, cascading pearls wrapped in gold rope chains to cover her entire chest like a throwing net. She grabs the other, a thick rope chain with pearls studding each intertwined link for Peeta. “This looks-”

“Expensive? It is. Do you know how hard it is to get pure gold these days? Everyone wants those new carbon things but no, I want the classics,” you smiled as you went to the bed, quickly crawling over Finnick’s legs to sit on his lap. You push the candy around your mouth, covering it in your spit before leaning down, watching his mouth lull open obediently and let the cherry flavored candy fall into his mouth. You giggled, lulling out your tongue to lick at his own before looking over at Katniss. “Get to the estate at around nine in the morning. Finnick and I will be there earlier, but you know it’s bad luck when a groom sees his bride. Cinna’s assistants will begin dressing you when you get there.”

Katniss nods. “Okay, I will uhm… we’ll be there, all of us.”

You smile. “Sounds good. Make sure Haymitch and Effie wear black! If I see one speck of color, she’s leaving.”

Katniss laughs slightly. “Okay. See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

You look up, smiling at her. “See you tomorrow, Katniss.”

With that, she leaves as a loud crack makes you look down at Finnick who chews on the candy. He grinned, his tongue stained pink as you kissed his lips. You groaned as he pulled your hips into his own, rutting them softly into yours before his hands squeezed your sides. “You gonna take that test?”

You almost forgot about it, but you nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” He whispers, hands stroking your side as you inhale shakily.

“Yes.”

He lifts you up, taking you to the restroom, slowly setting you down onto the ground. You go to the toilet, sighing as you slowly pull down your pants and opening up the test. Quickly, you do your business, clean yourself off and wash your hands before tapping on Finnick’s shoulder.

You whimper into his back, rubbing his arms. “Fin, I’m scared.”

He turns around, stroking your cheeks. “It’s okay to be scared, darling. Just remember I’m here and I’m here to help you, to protect you, to save you.”

You sobbed into his hands, gasping as the timer Finnick must have set and quickly grabbing the test. You inhaled shakily, the words Negative not registering in your mind.

“Y/N, honey?”

“I really wanted it to be true, Fin,” you whisper, your eyes burning almost as though there were no more tears left to cry. “I really wanted to be pregnant with your baby.”

A choked sob fell from Finnick’s mouth, his arms immediately pulling you into his chest as you both crumbled to the ground. You sobbed into his chest, his hands pulling you into his lap as you rubbed his shoulders and he rubbed your back. “We’re going to get out of there alive, my darling. I promise.”

This time, you believed him. Looking up, you pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you, Finnick Odair.”

“I love you, Y/N L/N. Forever and always.”

“And when we meet in our next life.”

Regular taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪

in our next life taglist: 𓆩[@poppet05]𓆪 𓆩[@ennycutie]𓆪 𓆩[@jewelrybean25]𓆪 𓆩[@arzua10]𓆪 𓆩[@savagemickey03]𓆪 𓆩[@ok-boke]𓆪 𓆩[@instabull]𓆪 𓆩[@maxinehufflepuffprincess]𓆪 𓆩[@starryeddie]𓆪 𓆩[@ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations]𓆪 𓆩[@taestrwbrry]𓆪

next part will be uploaded this Wednesday! (and linked in masterlist and the link for next part) (05.17.23)

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fascinatedscrawls · 1 month

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Heel to Face

"Alright, let's get one more picture and then you're good to go."

Tired after a long evening in the ring, Eddie pulls his persona on for the final time. Bloodied, defeated, but not at all deterred, The Freak gives the camera a smile that's a little too wide, eyes a little too wild as he shows off the bruises he earned tonight through his loose, torn shirt.

A couple of snaps later and Gareth gives him a thumbs up. Eddie drops back into his chair with a noisy sigh, wincing a little as he does. For all that the fights and the drama are designed to look real, his opponents do pull their punches just like he does. That doesn't mean the hits don't hurt though.

Reaching up he pulls on the not-quite mouth guard, tugging it out to make his teeth a little less vampiric. The bottom set joins the top in their container, but he doesn't quite have the energy to get up and clean them off just yet. Maybe in a few minutes. He doesn't need to catch his breath, not after years of going out and putting on shows like this, but after hours of playing the Heel, Eddie is happy to just be himself for a little while. And let's be honest, 'himself' is a little bit of a slob, so he doesn't even think twice before going to wipe his fingers off on his tattered shirt.

A hand towel hits him in the face before he can follow through with that.

"Come on, man," Steve 'The Hero' (or 'The Hair-o', as his enemies like to taunt) Harrington, on screen nemesis of The Freak and the source of most of tonight's bruises, tuts as he drops a bottle of water on Eddie's lap. "You've already got blood and sweat on that thing, do you really need to add anything else?"

Leaning forward, Eddie lets the towel fall onto the water bottle so he can give Steve a teasing leer. "Oh, sweetheart, we can add so much more if you're offering."

"Gross." Steve returns flatly without actually looking in any way disgusted. "Let's try a shower first."

Eddie's heart rate jumps up again, blood pumping as he lets his smile turn a bit predatory. Just like in the ring, Steve meets it with a steely smile of his own.

It's so clear even now why they were picked to face off time and time again. It's not just how Eddie's darker style contrast against Steve's more classically handsome looks or even the way his sharp, speedy moves and tricks play against Steve's strength and reversals. It's the way they both rise to meet the challenge. It's how both Heel and Face meet in the ring over and over, neither one coming out the true victor, neither losing enough to truly throw in the towel.

God, Eddie wants to kiss Steve when he gets like this.

"Keep it PG," Nancy, Steve's PR manager chimes in from where she's finalizing the social media posting schedule with Gareth, clearly done with them as usual.

Steve rolls his eyes, but relents as Eddie slouches into a pout. Sure they're just behind the scenes at an event where fans are still exiting the venue, but Eddie just got thrown around a ring by his long-term, 'secret' (to the fans) boyfriend and it's made him all hot and bothered! No, he doesn't care if that happens more often than not, he should be allowed to indulge every once in a while!

Lips brush his cheek for a breath, there and gone before Eddie can try to turn to meet them. Steve straightens and wipes the sweat and makeup off his lips. "Drink your water."

"Yes, dear." Eddie flashes him a smile, tongue in teeth, before doing as instructed. He's got to re-hydrate if they're going to have any fun later.

─────────────────────────

Thanks to everyone who voted in the prompt poll!

I don't know enough about wrestling to do as much as this AU deserves, but I do love the idea of them being professional rivals while still being like super good boyfriends outside the ring.

Next poll will likely go up in the next day or two! Work's hectic, but these ficlets are super fun!

#ficlet prompt poll result #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #prompt: Face Facts #stranger things #wrestling au #cw: blood mention

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mrsnancywheeler · 7 months

Note

i have returned with another idea

so in my head, i think that District 4 has a cute lil celebration every summer in that goes from 8pm to midnight. basically, in order to kinda boost moral for all 12-18 year olds in the District, an event is held every year at the plaza and it’s orchestrated by lots of the adults. the whole plaza gets decorated with sea shells and handmade decorations in a variety of blue colours. it’s all very ocean themed and they call it ‘The Ocean Festival’. It’s basically a huge party which includes, music, dancing, food and even some cute lil games like trying to hook those little plastic ducks.

But there is a main event. The day of the festival, the adults put the name of every single 12-18 year old on seashells (separately) and then all of the kids scatter them across the ocean. There is a singular crabbing pot that will pick up a random shell. it’s somewhere in the ocean that only one adult knows the location of.

Nearing to the end of the festival, that adult swims out and collects the crab pot, and whoever’s shell is inside is crowned as ‘The Oceans Chosen One’. It’s such a cute tradition because whoever is crowned literally gets this cool crown made of shells. Idk why but i always think of Voulez-Vous by ABBA when thinking about District 4- so i can just imagine that song playing while everyone is dancing around the ‘Ocean’s chosen one’. (like the dance in Mama Mia with Voulez-Vous)

But i think you can tell where im finally going with this. So when reader is 16, she is crowned as the ‘chosen one’ and of course everyone is happy because everyone loves her. so everyone is dancing around her and i can just imagine Finnick watching from a distance, just admiring her. Sadly, this was some time after he broke up with her, so he couldn’t be the one dancing with her in the middle of the circle. So instead, Conway was.

Finnick would literally be seething with anger as he watches Conway dance with his sweet girl in the middle of the circle. he’s spinning her, lifting her up and what not. Finnick just glares at Conway’s hands on readers waist as he picks her up and lifts her into the air. All he can think about is how he wishes he could be the one lifting his sweet girl up, and how beautiful she looks with the seashell crown on her head.

sorry for rambling but i’ve been thinking of this all day after listening to Voulez-Vous in the morning and i actually couldn’t stop😭😭

I love this so so much 💋💋💋💋

reader would totally be helping decorate with conway's siblings, just having the time of their life. swimming around to find what they all feel the best places are. and finnick is left to participate with his fair weather friends, he probably 'forgets' to put his in, he doesn't need to win anything else. but he's definitely got an eye on his sweet girl all night.

nobody's really dressed fancy, but it's their non-working, nicer clothing in blues and whites on top of their swimsuits. victors usually buy the food from the markets so the food is better then usual for most of the district. people play music, dance, eat, while waiting for 11:00 when the oceans chosen one is finally announced. reader is fluttering around in her flowy blue sundress, talking to nearly everyone, and even though he's surrounded by people finnick feels so lonely to know you'll never make your rounds over to him. the finally the time has come and it's your name, and finnick's ecstatic to see his sweet girl getting the attention she deserves, the sweet, loving kind from the children and people there.

you look so ethereal in the moonlight shining off the seashell crown, then it's time to dance and the chosen one always gets to pick someone to be their partner for it. and for a split second your eyes catch finnick's before you're moving on to grab conway's hand. and finnick wishes nothing more then to be up there with you, with his pretty girl. but it's you and conway, he just has to sit on the sidelines now.

(kind of a sick parallel for a year later her to be picked at the reaping with conway, while finnick is once again on the sidelines. the ocean chose her, but so did the Capitol)

and you're growing up, so is conway, and finnick can tell that's only made him love you more. with the way conway is looking at you, touching you, holding you, acting like he's the one who's meant to be there. even if finnick's view is obscured by the circles of people he can't bear it without thinking about how badly he wants to be holding his sweet girl's hand right now. so he makes up an excuse to go home to his so-called friends. and leaves, not before nicking your shell, the only part of you he can hold close now.

and when you notice he's gone it's almost enough to ruin your mood because having his eyes on you is the only way you've been able to have his presence in so long. but this is what your life is going to be, so you'll have to get used to it. even if it hurts that he can't celebrate with you.

I think district 4 is so abba coded overall, like idk how to explain it, they just are 💋💋💋💋

#wanda 💋#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #the lakes #finnick odair #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #the river #anon

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ellisgirl · 11 months

Text

Ellis Twilight — Villain’s Night Story Event

Chapter 2

I do not own any contents of Ikemen Villains. This story being uploaded in this blog belongs solely to CYBIRD. Please support them by downloading their games and buying their stories. Both English and Japanese are not my mother tongue languages, please keep in mind that there will be mistakes and added words for my own preferences. I translate for my personal entertainment and for my own practice only.

The sun has just started to tilt, and it seems that there will still be time before the moon appears.

Ellis: “Miss Kate, are you leaving now? Or do you want to go to the tavern with me?”

Kate: "It's not fair to ask like that, Ellis...”

Ellis: “Fufu, sorry. ......Well then, let's just drop in for a bit and get home before the full moon comes out.”

Kate: "Yes! I agree."

Once seated, the owners serve us a succession of dishes and drinks to entertain us.

All of them were exquisite—we didn't realise that it started to get dark outside.

Bar customer: "Happy Halloween! *Hiccup* Another round please, Master."

(Somehow more people are getting drunk. .......Ah!)

When I looked out the window, it was completely dark outside.

— Flash back begins —

Victor: “You never know what's going to happen. You have to be back before the moon rises in the sky.”

— Flash back ends —

(...Ah, What should I do!)

Kate: "Ellis. The full moon is.......”

Ellis: “.......Yeah?”

Ellis sitting next to me doesn't seem to have changed anything from usual.

(......Still, it's better not to stay too long)

Kate: “It's time to go home. Victor said so, and...”

When I was about to stand up, Ellis slipped his arm and hugged around my waist.

Kate: “Ellis?”

Ellis: "......I don't want to go home yet."

Kate: “B-But”

Ellis: “Aaah. .....Maybe I didn't say it right."

Ellis: "Miss Kate. ...I don't want you to go home yet."

Ellis: “…..Don’t go home, okay?”

(......The usual Ellis and the atmosphere are....different?)

(Uh, no, maybe he's just drunk.)

I stare at Ellis seriously, but he doesn't look like he's drunk at all.

(…..By any chance)

(So, sins really are worsened due to the power of the full moon?)

Ellis: "....Miss Kate, the 'Night of the Moonbeams' really did happen."

Muttering as if to answer my question, Ellis rested his head on my shoulder as he sat next to me.

Ellis: “My mind has been buzzing since a while ago... It's like my rational mind is melting away.”

Kate: “Rational…..?”

Ellis: “......Yeah. So, can you stay with me a bit longer?"

His head is rubbed against the nape of my neck, and my heart jumps.

Ellis: "...You don't want to?"

Kate: "T-That's... But I have to go home—“

I had to tell him that I don’t want to and we’re going home, I thought so.

(Really? Do I really hate it?)

(.....It’s different. It's not that I don't like it. Rather..... I'm kind of happy about it.)

(Ellis, who doesn't always say he's selfish, is now able to say how selfish he is.)

Ellis: “Miss Kate, you're so easy to understand and so cute.”

Ellis: “That face. .....You don't hate me, do you?"

Kate: "Eh, ah........"

Ellis: "If that's the case......"

He hugs me around the waist even more and creaks into my face.

Ellis: “...Just look at me, Miss Kate.”

Kate: “…………..Ellis”

Ellis: “It is forbidden to think about anyone else but me.”

Kate: “Uh, if you're this close, all I can think about is you..... I can't think of anything else."

Ellis: "......Yeah, did that on purpose."

It's not uncommon for Ellis to make me nervous.

(Tsk, he’s now even worse for my heart than he usually is!)

But I was still happy to be told to be selfish by Ellis.

(My body doesn't seem to be in pain... It's okay if it's just a little bit more, right?)

…

After we leave the bar, Ellis remains snugly attached to me.

(...Our hands are tied together all the time.)

His hand was entwined around my fingers like thorns.

It's as if he won't allow you to go anywhere.

Ellis: ".....It's more lively than during the day."

Kate: “Ah, yes. This area of the city is a nightlife area every year—“

As if to interrupt the words I was about to say, the sound of cutting through the sky echos—

A large flower bloomed in the night sky.

Ellis: ".....Wow"

Kate: “Every year, there's a fireworks display.”

Ellis: "......That's right. .....I wonder why, I forgot."

We are speechless and are fascinated by the fireworks that colour our eyes.

When I look up, I feel as if I'm bathed in a grain of light with my whole body.

(......I don't think I've ever looked up at fireworks this slowly before.)

The fantastic scenery seems to gently make me forget about the tiredness and anxiety that accumulates every day.

Kate: "...........It's beautiful."

Ellis: “…………” :)

Kate: "When I see beautiful things, I wish time would stop like this."

Ellis: "Stop time........?”

Kate: “...Yes. I wish it could be forever.”

Kate: “But maybe it's beautiful because it's not eternal.”

Ellis: “……..Hm”

In an instant, I was pulled closer to our connected hands.

It was so forceful that I cannot believe that it was from Ellis until now.

Ellis: ".....Miss Kate, over here."

Kate: “…..Ellis?”

When we got into a carriage parked nearby, Ellis slammed the door shut.

The coarse gestures were different from those of usual Ellis, who was always gentle.

Kate: “What’s wrong, all of a sudden?”

Ellis sat down next to me and put his hand on the side of my face to stop me going anywhere.

Ellis: "I wish time would stop."

Ellis: "When I was looking at you laughing saying that..... My heart is buzzing again."

Ellis: “I need to make you mine and mine alone as soon as possible."

Kate: “.....Your own......as your thing?"

Ellis: “…..Yeah" :D

Ellis: “Miss Kate, I've been wanting to make you…..my own."

Kate: “…..Um”

Ellis smiles as if there is a gaping black hole in his face.

When I couldn't respond with any words to his unusual smile, Ellis blinked at me.

Ellis: “……….Uh” :0

Ellis: “That's wrong... What am I even doing….?” :(

Ellis: “I’m sorry, Miss Kate... I didn't mean to do this."

In order to regain his reason, Ellis shakes his head to the side many times.

Ellis: “I took the liberty of not listening to your feelings.... My apologies."

(...As expected, ‘Night of the Moonbeams’ is driving him crazy.)

(I'm sure that even now you're in pain, but you're doing your best not to scare me…)

Kate: “Don't apologise. Besides, it's not for you to worry about, Ellis."

Kate: "Because this is because of ‘Moonbeams Night’, isn't it?"

Ellis: "......That's true. ...But."

His gaze turns to the moon that floats in the distance outside the window.

Ellis: ".....I wonder if everyone in the crown is also suffering now?"

Ellis: "This kind of thing... No one is happy, right?"

The edge of my heart aches at his words of concern for everyone.

(.....I'm so sorry I thought you'd be happy to be selfish.)

"Night of the Moonbeams" is not just something that happened this time, but something that could happen in the future.

(In that case—)

Kate: “Ellis, would you like to find out if there is any way to control this phenomenon?”

Kate: “Then maybe it would be easier for everyone in the Crown.”

Ellis: “…..Miss Kate”

Ellis: "......Yeah, thank you." :D

(That’s a relief. He finally smiles.)

(…..But)

Kate: "Where and how should I look it up…?”

Ellis: “I've heard that moon flowers grow wild on the castle grounds.”

Ellis: 'If you go there...... You might learn something.”

Kate: “On the castle grounds. Let's go."

Going there may not solve anything.

Still, neither I nor Ellis could just wait for the dawn.

…

Ellis: ".....I'm sure it's this way. Miss Kate, be careful of your feet."

Kate: "Yes, you too, be careful."

Going around the back of the castle and going deeper—

…

Kate: "Wow........”

Moon flowers were growing wild, entwined around arched trellis.

(..........They're so beautiful it's horrifying.)

The flowers that bloom in the light of the full moon are so beautiful that I even feel scared.

I thought it was because of the moon that the power of the curse was getting stronger.

(I wonder if this flower has something to do with it…..)

At that moment, the body of Ellis, who was standing next to me, tilted unsteadily—

Ellis: “…..Uh”

Kate: “Ellis?”

Masterlist

Chapter 1 >> Chapter 2 >> Premium End >> Epilogue

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikemen series #ellis twilight #ikevil ellis #ikemen games #ikemen villains story event #ikevil translations

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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year

Text

Just to kiss me (Part 2)

pairing: Finnick Odair x reader

(AO3 mirror)

Part One, Part Three, My Hunger Games Masterlist

summary: You try to move on. This proves harder than expected.

warnings: none for this chapter. Small mention of blood.

required reading: The song "We'll never have sex" by Leith Ross <3

a/n: I take a lot of creative liberties because I do not know what the capitol or its government fucking look like! I haven't read the books in a while, and I try to build on the wiki and the movies, so sorry in advance.

wc: 4k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh, dilute me, gentle angel

Water down what I call being grateful ,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn't even tell him your name.

That's the thought you sit with for the next few days, then weeks. You try your hardest to leave it at that; a simple conversation between strangers, an interaction to twist the lock on and take to your grave. A secret thing, a moment, just for you.

The truth is, you're distracted. You've spent a defiant few years trying not to be swept up by the buzz around Finnick Odair, and in these couple of weeks you find yourself watching old interviews and articles about him. A lot of them, at first, but none of the portrayals match the man you met on the balcony. Too sanitised, too clean. Who was Finnick? Under the makeup, the lifestyle, the glamour; who was he really?

Vonnie called you, the morning after, raving about how she had actually met Finnick Odair.

"And God, I think he's even prettier up close! He was so funny, and he said he loved my dress… wait. Shit. D'you think he was flirting with me? We're about the same age, and we'd make such a power couple! The way he looked at me, you'd think-"

You loved Vonnie, you really did. And you were happy for her. But the way she talks about him makes your stomach churn for some reason. You cut her off gently, with promises to continue later in the day.

On the 4th week, you think you have snapped out of your month long haze; made peace with the facts of the matter. He didn't ask for your name. He doesn't remember you. He didn't look back. It was stupid, really, to expect anything else. You're at a fitting with your mother when you decide you're well and truly over it. Cinna tightens the corset of a gown, before peering over your shoulder to look at you in the mirror. You both tilt your heads; as if you would transform at a mere 45 degrees.

"Sleeves or no sleeves?" he asks.

"Sleeves." you say.

"No sleeves." your mother says at the exact same time. "Honestly, Cinna can we make it a little more…. more? It doesn't exactly say 'Councillor's daughter' "

You dare to roll your eyes at her dramatics. "And what does it say, currently?"

"It says 'District 4 tribute tour', my love. Too many nets for your own good. No offence."

You bristle, knowing Cinna made the dress to her exact requirements.

"That's vile, mother. The dress is beautiful, as usual, Cinna."

His smile is well practised. He knows you mean it. "No sleeves it is, then."

'Masquerade' was the theme. A grand affair in the run up to the 72nd Games; everybody who's anybody would be there. Admittedly, this was last minute; with only your mother's money and status affording you these appointments. But the dress Cinna had managed to make was truly beautiful; draped silver netting with crystal beading, dripping down the dress like the froth of a waterfall. The mask was a similar affair; crystal droplets cascading down its side.

There’s the tell-tale chime of Caesar's show on the antenna; and you hear him announce the mentors for the next games. All past victors; of which Finnick's name is not mentioned.

~~~

Without the sleeves, you’re cold and bare. Even the spotlights of the hall do nothing for warmth, so you are forced away from the draughty sides of the room, near the windows. Avoiding all events, for your own peace of mind, was rearing its ugly head. Never a conversationalist; you were even more out of practice and out of your depth. God, you didn't have the energy for this. Living in the capitol for a lifetime had desensitised you to the excess of your surroundings. Gaudy dresses, tawdry suits, body mods every which way; all to fit the theme of unmasking - lest they were named and shamed for a fashion faux pas in the papers.

You had separated from your mother a while ago, not bearing to be picked apart for the whole night. So you floated, a half empty champagne flute in hand, desperately trying to blend in with the crowd. The masks helped, you suppose; you had never been good at remembering faces, so you compartmentalised and talked to 'the fox' or 'the doll' as opposed to the editor of Panem weekly, or the new candidate for the council.

The lively uptick of music signals the ballroom is open. For a while, you are entranced by the dancing, the sway of bodies and ball gowns in time to the music. A sea of people in the flashing lights. And when that wave breaks, at its crest, is Finnick.

You know it's him, despite the mask. You can feel it; as you watch him laugh something inaudible at his dance partner. She's beautiful, her suit in a complementary shade of blue to his signature gold. There's a shiver down your spine when you watch him lean close to her ear, and whisper something that has her holding back laughter.

You have no right, you know. It tastes bitter to know you've joined the swathes of onlookers; analysing every move. Frustrated, you down your drink and shake it out of your system. You don't know him. Like everyone else, you don't know him.

You make for the door and are swept up by the tide of people. Someone grabs you by the waist and spins you into the arms of another; waltzing with the current. A crescendo, and you've swapped partners, stumbling almost head first into another.

The fabric you clutch at is taut, expensive brocade. Gilded and… golden. You look up. Fuck. Vonnie was right: he is prettier up close.

In your stupor, you hear a snort. He's laughing. You're frozen and he's laughing, the little shit.

"It is customary for one to dance at these things, you know." He looks at you, dead on, and you wait for the flash of recognition. It doesn't come, and you don't know whether to cry with relief or sadness.

"I'm c-concentrating," You almost glare at him. Forward, right. Backwards, left. Rinse, repeat. You need something else to think about. You catch his foot with your shoe and he winces slightly.

"And how's that working for you?" The rest of the sentence was silent. It's not. You splutter with shock at his bluntness, and ignore him. Forward, right. Backwards -

"I know you." It's soft, under his breath. "From the balcony…. I-I remember you."

That's when you look at him, deep green eyes pulling you in despite the mask. There's a smile threatening to break the surface of his face; hands on your waist like you were going to disintegrate. There's the crescendo of music again, and you're whisked away.

"Meet….meet me by the south stairwell!" He shouts after you, before being swallowed up by the crowd.

~~~

The "south stairwell" was deceptively specific, you realise too late. You're wandering the adjourning hallways after slipping out, more than a little lost. Every room looks the same; empty marble flooring and ornate crown carving. It's pristine, a little too evenly aged - a scene of birds and willows in the moulded furrows with a chip here and there. You'd heard once that Councillor Hadrian had ordered for the pieces made in District 2 to be specially aged - people working for months with chisels and hammers to imitate something ancient. A bygone era inside this hulking pile of glass and metal. Hollow. An old wives’ tale, perhaps.

You click-click down the halls in search of a stairwell, let alone one in the south wing. Thankfully, it gives you time to think. You're excited, even though you'd rather perish than admit it. A feeling bubbling up in your gut, ever since you spotted him in the crowd. Now, it threatens to boil over because you've been vindicated. Desperately, you're trying not to overthink; to be a normal fucking human being about this, for once. It doesn't mean the same thing to him, you're sure of it, but it feels nice to pretend.

After a maze of corridors that all look the same, you spot him. In the warm lights you can see him better: dressed in a brocade suit, and underneath, corseted at the waist of a flowing silk shirt. Even the mask suits him, a triple faced affair; deconstructed so his jaw and cheekbones are visible. He's leaning on the bannister, and as you round the corner, you spot someone else with him. She's got her mask atop her striking ginger hair, and tucked her hands into the pockets of a tailored jumpsuit; a complementary blue and silver to Finnick's gold and cream. Guarded when she spots you, Finnick speaks first.

"Hi." He takes off his mask, as if he's seeing you for the first time. There's warmth in his eyes and that smile again.

"Hi." You smile back.

"This is-" He turns to the woman next to you. She can't be much older than you, maybe even your age. Despite her blank stare, she seems somewhat familiar, like you've seen her somewhere before. "This is Annie."

Rather curtly, she nods.

"And Annie… this is who I talked about, before. This is.." you fill in the gap with your name. As if to test how it feels on his tongue, he repeats it after you. He turns back to Annie, a glint in his eye. "She's real, and I'm not crazy, she's-"

"She's real." Annie looks at you once over, visibly unimpressed.

"I didn't think this was your thing, to be honest." He says as he takes a seat on the steps next to you.

"Stay home? And miss out on the vultures? You don't know me well enough, clearly." You stretch out, a little stiff in the dress.

"You weren't at the banquet, or the Staffy twins' party, or Caesar's press junket… I was starting to think I'd never see you again."

You think that means he looked for you; and your heart goes pitter-patter at the implication.

Annie clears her throat. She stands, and when Finnick rushes upwards she sighs." I'm going back in. You can… stay here for a bit. If you need."

When she pads down the corridor, out of sight, Finnick's scratching his head. "She's nice. I promise."

You hum. "I don't blame her. I fucking hate these things." He doesn't look at you.

"You never get tired of it? The peacocking, the preening, the pleases and pardon-mes. I've been to two, I think. And I feel like my eyes are gonna roll back into my head. Permanently." You say that last bit a little dramatically, looking for a laugh.

It doesn't come. "You play the game." Diplomarically, he shrugs. And too quickly, he turns to you. "You want to do something? Something a little stupid?"

"Depends how stupid, s'pose…" There's a hand, rough palms upwards, stretching towards you. You take it and Finnick smiles.

~~~

You're outside Councilor Hadrian's soiree, at the juncture between glassy buildings and the adjourning streets. It's tucked away from the Capitol’s centre, hidden behind manicured hedges and stony pavement. Finnick strays a little further out, furtive as he watches for anyone walking past. At this time of night, however, it is unlikely to meet a soul this far from the entertainment district. Only when you find the streets eerily quiet do you realise how stupid this really is: a midnight walk with a man you don't know, taking you to an unknown place, without anyone aware of your whereabouts. Currently, your only comfort was that this risk taking might send your mother to an early grave.

In the hum of streetlights, you realise just how tall Finnick is. Broad shoulders, corded forearms exposed at his rolled up sleeves. His mask is long gone, discarded on some side table back at the party. You give yourself the time to appreciate the cut of his cheekbones and dimples threatening to expose themselves as he chews on the inside of his cheek. Despite himself, he seems on edge. Nervous.

You haven't been walking long when he stops. A spot secluded by trees. He brings out something jangly in his pockets and points at the half-dark. That's when you see it. A car.

An honest-to-god, 4-wheeled, shiny chassis, little blue car. You gasp. You haven't seen anything with wheels since you were a kid - so a car in this condition was a sight to behold.

"This is- she's gorgeous…! I can't imagine where you got this from-" He can hear you beam as you circle the thing, pawing at its glossy frame.

"His name is Lucas, and he was a gift." He says with a small smile. "Fixed him up myself, and he runs pretty smoothly-"

"You can drive it? Does that mean…are we going to….?" He brings a hand up to pause you. With a little flair, he gently nudges you aside to open the door to the passenger's seat.

~~~

You're having a little too much fun. You must look mad the way you squeal at every bump in the road that makes the car rock; or the way the lights dance in the side mirrors. The streets weren't made for wheels but you enjoyed it nevertheless. You'd been in pods, ships, the occasional hover bike; but none could compare to the feeling of riding down the streets of the Capitol with Finnick in tow.

He took the sideroads; a route you didn't recognise but one he was clearly well versed with.

"Where are we going?“

“A surprise."

He keeps driving, his eyes flitting to look at you in the passenger's seat. You stray further from the Capitol; bleeding into its borders, where concrete gives way to grass and streetlights are swallowed by moonlight. He can't help but to get drunk on small glances of you. Your lazy chatter dies down as he pulls up to a clearing of trees offroad.

He steps out to open your door. You grab his hand and your heels sink a little in the mud. The walk isn't far, and barely a few hundred metres from where he's parked. In the brush, you see the gentle shine of… water.

A lake, crystalline in the low light. Willows sweeping its edge, and the gentle chirrup of cicadas in the rushes. A wooden jetty; solid but mossy with age. Frankly, you've never seen such untouched beauty this close to the Capitol. There's something in the air; crisp and clean, free from blood.

You herd Finnick towards its banks, taking a seat, and he plants himself next to you; open-toed heels barely touching the water. You shiver. Always a gentleman, he gives you the suit jacket off his back.

"I've never seen anything like this…" You look around in awe. "Never… not this close to the capitol. Untouched."

"Bureaucracy, I think. Saved it from a tomb of glass and limestone." He explains. "Once constructruction started, they realised it ran into an underground reservoir. So they abandoned it."

"They?"

"A nebulous, overarching, always-watching they. You know how it goes."

"S'pose I do." You gesture towards your dress. "That's why I'm dressed like this. Is that why you look like you sneezed into a vat of glitter?"

He rolls his eyes. "Very funny. This is my signature look, apparently. I have a brand to maintain."

"A brand…? That's…. unsettling."

"What is?"

You distract yourself by fiddling with the beads on the skirt of your dress.

"I see you on the network. In interviews, on the radio; your face is plastered on half a dozen billboards in the capitol. I go past one on the way to work. The one where you-" You turn, curling your face into a smile, and attempt to wink. "-smiling, like this, I think. Half the nation thinks they know you. And you're good at it."

He doesn't look away.

"Being a brand, I mean. You're good at it."

A pause. The wind causes the grass and willows to chatter in the silence. Fuck.

"You have a job?"

"...could you at least pretend to be surprised?"

"No- it's just, I thought you stop existing when I'm not here." He deadpans, and you laugh at his half-sincerity.

"Like I'm a figment of your imagination? Because you're wracked with the guilt of all the rich fucks in the capitol you've pretended to like…"

"...something like that." He huffs, a little cryptic, but you continue.

"Well, I'm real. And I have a job. A secretary. Data entry, organising meetings, taking minutes, all for Councillor Hadrian. That's how I got into the party." A small lie you barely notice, rolling off your tongue. You don't want him to know about your mother, not yet.

"For Hadrian? You must see a lot, then. Tell me something I don't know."

You could tell him about the secret meetings with his "friends" at the boardwalk - the ones his wife doesn't know about. Or the tin of powder by his desk he scrapes into lines and snorts unceremoniously on stressful days. But Finnick runs in those circles, and was no doubt familiar with Hadrian and his vices.

So you lean in, edging closer towards the man with a hand on his shoulder.

"He's got an inclination for the mutts they use in the games…"

Finnick looks at you bewildered, at first, but catches the glint in your eye. Then, he laughs, a chuckle that turns into a roar until there are tears in his eyes. You laugh with him, glad to see him smile.

"God- I almost believed you…!"

It's your turn to snort, loud in the billowy outdoors. "He's got blood on his hands, same as everyone else." He hums noncommittally. "But Hadrian's a greedy idiot - doesn't look at the bigger picture. It's worse when they're smart. Like….like Councillor Arachne-"

"-the closest thing to Snow's opposition?"

You wave him off. "Opposition is a strong word. All of her positions are inflammatory at best," Nothing too strong, or radical. The shiny veil of choice; two paths leading to the same cavernous pit. You explain:

"She's visible; appeals to both sides without alienating either. The one good thing she did; suspending the 57th games; was reversed, almost immediately. And the fact Snow hasn't offed her yet makes him look….” You search for the right word. ”...benevolent. But the moment she pivots to something that matters - and I mean something other than wine shortages and stretching curfews-"

" -she dies. A tragic accident. A deeply troubled woman pushed to her brink. She dies."

"Wouldn't be the first time." The air is heavy with what's left between the lines. Nothing changes. Not really.

"She's the favourite for overseer in District 4, isn't she?"

"Something like that. She's got her fingers in a lot of pies." Of course, you’d know. Half of the Capitol’s inner circle in and out of your home in an attempt to expand her connections. Hastily, you add, "I guess they all do."

"Is that what you want to do, then? Go into politics?"

"Oh, no. I want people to actually like me." And under your breath, you say. "I don't even care if it's fake. I just want them to like me."

"It's simple things, really." Your head almost snaps towards him. He stretches, and stands up; to lead you towards the pier. You watch as he takes centre stage on the wooden planks and you sit on the grass besides it.

"You make them read between the lines. For example," His gestures are exaggerated, and he echoes across the lake. As a backdrop it's breathtaking, Finnick in gold against the silver gloom of mist and lapping water. "Mirror their body language. Laugh at their stupid jokes. You're personable and good-natured and approachable - you're the first person you need to convince. People already like you. Believe it."

Finnick helps you up onto his stage, and taps the small of your back.

"Posture. Stand up straight. Ask about the little things. Remember the details." Words he recites like a checklist. He's closer now: manic, possessed.

"When Caesar asks if you caught the show the other day, you say you had a late night. That means nightmares, again, but everyone else thinks it means someone seduced, not waking up in your own bed. You don't correct them. Instead, you turn to the camera - the one on your left, your good side - and you wink. Always the golden boy, but not too golden."

There's something there as he talks. Like the night on the balcony, something trying to break free. In a moment, it's gone, whatever you're searching for.

"Eye contact, it's important," He's soft, lifting your jaw up so you're at eye level. Gently, he rests his hands on your waist like they were made for its slope. "And smiling, with your eyes, not your teeth. A little flirty; like you know something they don't…" For a flash second, he looks at your lips. "Little glances, barely noticeable. Make 'em go crazy. Get a little closer than you should."

You're holding your breath. Chest thudding in your dress, he's close, the tip of his nose barely brushing yours, Unwavering, pupils blown; the hot gaze of his sea green eyes burning your skin.

Your mouth moves before you can think. "But it's not… real."

Knee deep in his own performance, the glass shatters. He scrunches his mouth, a flash of dimple, and moves back.

"No. It's not."

Silence, for a bit. You've gotten too comfortable, you think, said something you shouldn't have. He gives you a weak grin.

"Thank you." He says warmly. You're confused.

"For what?"

He shrugs. "For staying, I guess. For listening."

You nod slightly, still clutching at his silky sleeve. A groan comes from your stomach and you realise you've been out for a couple of hours, at least. You separate, gently, embarrassed.

Finnick practically coos. "I've got some food and a blanket in my car. We'll eat, and then I'll take you home, if you want." He hands you the keys, and you pad off towards the car, grateful for the time to clear your head.

Your back hurts from sitting on the ground, and you're cold even in Finnick's jacket - but your face aches from smiling so much. You ruined the moment, you know, but it was unlike anything you've ever felt before. He's disarming; able to get you to cut and spill your insides out onto the wooden planks, with only a smile and a touch of your shoulder. Dangerous.

There's a blanket and water in the boot of the car, the fabric decorated with a pattern you haven't seen before. It's big, handmade probably, and loosely woven; reminiscent of a thick net. You sling it over your shoulder, and grab the water, looking for food. After rummaging around the car's front, you happen across the glovebox. Inside, packaged saltines; that look like the food packs peacekeepers carry; and a little box rattling around its bottom. Curious, you pop it open. Empty, save for a single pill. Many things could be said about you; but you weren’t stupid. You put the box back in its place.

With a click, you lock the car and begin the short walk back to the lake. A rough beaten path you trudge along, your heels long gone. You're not too far, when you hear something. A dull thud. And then, there's a crash, like a boulder thrown into the water. The weeping leaves of the trees block your view, so you hurry towards the noise.

You round the corner. Something's wrong.

"....Finnick?" You can't see him. Calling his name as you drop your things, you clamber onto the jetty. "F-Finnick?"

You're shouting now, nearing the end of the wooden slats. Below you, even in the low light, the water churns. Your voice goes hoarse screaming his name, as you kneel down to get a better look. The planks are wet, warm; but not with water. Blood. You look down. A glinting mass pooling below the surface.

There's a person in the water. Unmoving. Bloody. Golden.

#finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick x capitol!reader #finnick x y/n #the hunger games #the hunger games fic #angst #slow burn #Spotify #thg #thg x reader #kat_writes😼

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a-libra-writes · 1 year

Note

Can you do a romantic headcanon for Victor please from Lackadaisy

Yeeeesssss. This is sort of paired with my earlier married life HCs? This is mostly the non-married stuff (as in yall meeting way later), so sorry for the long preamble! Reader is intended to be femme.

So, the relationship is quite different depending if you were with him when he was younger, or you two got involved during the later Lackadaisy years. If it's the latter, there's ... a lot more guilt and troubled thoughts involved.

For the former - when he was much younger, Viktor was shy, but he made his intentions clear. It would've been more old-fashioned courting, especially if you both met in the old country. He smiled a lot more back then, moreso if you were around.

Attempting to start something when he's years into working for Atlas is .... tricky. Even when it's clear you two have a mutual attraction, and a steady friendship, there's a barrier between you. You don't learn until much later what that barrier is, and why there's so much guilt and sadness in his interactions toward you.

It's the kneecapping that gets you both closer, not that either of you realize it at first. You were always at the Lackadaisy, and even after the ... mess, you didn't intend to leave. Neither did he, and though you wished Viktor would get out of this life, for a long time you'd assumed he had nowhere else to go. It's around this time that you finally learn about the estranged wife, and the daughter whose letters weren't opened. It makes the shame and guilt in his interactions with you make far, far more sense.

So even if nothing may come of it, you stay at his side and with the Lackadaisy, like you always have. You give him quiet company without any strings, sometimes bringing meals (okay, often, because he doesn't cook for himself enough), help him fetch things when his knees make it impossible. Your company is a great, great comfort - even if he never says that, you can tell. Some more observant folks might be able to, as well - the big grumpy man is clearly calmer and more at ease when you're in the room. Yes, this is why Rocky consults you before asking anything of Viktor. Hell, even Mitzi brings things up concerning him with you first.

Ivy is arguably the biggest and loudest supporter of you both, though she doesn't always notice how uncomfortable it makes Viktor, so you have to try to dial down her enthusiasm. She refers to you both as a package deal to others, furthering the assumption to others that you're a couple. And unbeknownst to you, Viktor has brought you up to Elsa, even before Atlas' death and when everything went to hell ... She listened to him without judgement, as she always does, silently hoping he'd stop torturing himself over it and that you were a good person. She wants very much for you to be a good person for her friend.

Well, all the hang-ups aside... once it does eventually happen, and that line has crossed, there's really no going back on it.

Viktor's gone a long time feelings he's undeserving of both receiving and giving affection. He's so used to violence, and accepting the consequences of choosing that life. So, it'll be small-going at first. You'll sit next to him and take his big arm in your's, rest your head against him - and he may lean into it, or stay still. He'll accept quick kisses on the forehead and cheek, especially if you hold his face, but sometimes too much makes him bristle. You will have to be very, very patient.

Eventually he'll put an arm around you when you sit next to time, especially when you're both in the privacy of a warm home. He's extra comfortable and warm to snuggle against! Viktor may grumble a little when you curl up, but he never pushes you away. If anything he'll grab a blanket, since you seem so cold. Many times you two have dozed off like this.

When you're wanting a hug, it's hard for Viktor to deny you, though he feels he's no good at providing comfort. He's better than he thinks, though! You're engulfed in warmth and you feel very protected. You can feel his heart skipping when you rest your cheek against his chest. Viktor isn't sure how long to stay, so he keeps still until you get your fill. If you're actually tall enough, he'll rest his chin on top of your head and try to allow himself to enjoy your embrace.

(On the note of PDA - he isn't inclined to it at all, being a more private man, but if you're already sitting beside him and have your arm in his, he won't pull away. He'll just growl at anyone who dares comment on it.)

It's probably only you, Elsa and Ivy who see Viktor's gentler side, and you're seeing the most of it. He'll hand you his big coat when it's rainy and cold outside (and be nothing short of shocked when you return it washed and smelling floral), he holds you carefully, he speaks much less roughly. Arguably the softest thing you two do is late in the evening, when you're cuddled up on his lap instead of on his side, and playing with his hand while you chat with him. He talks so low you can hear his voice rumbling in his chest, his accent somehow thicker yet easier to understand.

Literally no one else will ever see that side of him so enjoy it and soak it up!!

This is also the time you can finally get him to teach you some Slovak, whereas he's usually brushing you off and saying there's no point. Your accent isn't perfect but that's okay, he finds it endearing. He might actually mess with you and teach wrong words or phases, just so you can figure it out later.

Oh, and in addition to the decent food you make him eat - more than once you've made or bought some good clothes for him, because you know Viktor won't spend anything on himself. Whether it be a scarf or a pair of gloves or a jacket, he wears it often. He'll wear it until it's in tatters, actually. He isn't much for household decorations (any plants will probably end up dead...) but small touches you add around his home will give him some little feelings of sentiment when he looks at them.

(Co-habitation is pretty much out of the picture if you two aren't married, even spending the night at the other's house is .... another one of those lines.)

Doing "normal" couple things with you gives him both a sense of ease and normalcy, though there's always the guilt that will be nagging in the back. In the daytime he might accompany you on some errands, leading to the sight of a huge scary cat looming over a smaller and more easy-going one. ("Excuse me, he asked for no pickles.")

He might grumble about having to carry things, but he really doesn't mind these errands. If anything, it's good for him to get out of the bar and his apartment. He's still just as protective, though... god forbid someone looks at you too long, or someone tries to talk down to you. They'd have to be stupid to try anything when he's glowering with his one eye.

You thought his overprotectiveness was just the result of rowdy customers and drunk men during Lackadaisy's heyday, but no, it still persists. It's nice to have someone who will literally throw someone that's harassing you, buuut sometimes Viktor gets too ... enthusiastic, or makes hasty decisions. There's a few stores you aren't allowed back in because he decided to threaten and/or bodily harm a man who was getting too chummy.

Overall, it can be ... a slow and trying relationship, but if you're patient and someone who also wants a steady comfort, and you already value your friendship with him - well, Viktor is a much better man than he thinks he is.

#hope this is alright i had a lot of thoughts and i dunno if they were all together coherent!#viktor vasko x reader #lackadaisy x reader

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tokiro07 · 3 days

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Undead Unluck ch.222 thoughts

[Master Quests Done Quick]

(Contents: narrative analysis - Andy's return/Master Quests, character analysis - Julia, speculation - Unjustice)

Andy

Finally, after 4 billion years, Andy's back home where he belongs, and...! No one recognizes him. There's no fanfare, no cheering, barely even any smiles, really. Without Remember to give anyone context, Andy's just a guy in a suit at best and that streaker they met one time at worst

That said, I think that lack of celebration is oddly refreshing. It gives this chapter a much more chill vibe in the first 90% of it, which, while it makes me feel like I have less to talk about, does help make this chapter feel like a brief respite before everything we're about to see

A more solemn and subtle welcoming with Gina politely stepping aside to give Andy his rightful spot as Fuuko's no.2 and Yusai silently tossing him his iconic sword feels like the sort of calm normalcy that Andy has been missing. Sure, Andy puts his own weird little spin on it by impaling himself in front of everyone, but that's par for the course for him

The main point here is that this time, unlike when he first met the Union in L100 and descended upon them guns blazing, this time he's walking in calmly and looking up at the expanded crew. He's no longer an outsider looking down on a bunch of chumps, he's family coming home to see what's changed and what's stayed the same

Of course, Apocalypse is the one who gives him the most familiar welcome, as he's the only one here aside from Fuuko and Nico who truly remembers Andy rather than just being aware of him. With the exact same composition as from ch.9, Apocalypse calls Andy "Rookie," really hammering home Andy's assertion from last week that this is "the beginning"

While from our perspective it definitely doesn't feel like anything we'd call a beginning, being 200+ chapters and 4 billion years in, there is at least one character who this all still feels pretty new to...

Julia

This is Julia's first time meeting Apocalypse and experiencing the routine of clearing and accepting Quests, and to her she's coming in practically at the end. Just like how Fuuko initially joined when the 99th penalty was on the line, Julia is joining when the final set of antagonists has been introduced, and she's somehow less equipped for it than even Fuuko was back then

She's also in a similar position in that just as Juiz chose to place her hopes in Fuuko's Unluck, Fuuko's initial plan was to place her hopes in Julia's Unjustice. However, where Juiz aimed to train up Fuuko and Unluck to be their trump card, Fuuko would rather avoid making Julia become a Negator and join the fray, instead focusing on training up everyone else so that Unjustice won't be necessary

But of course, just like Juiz's approach was criticized by both Billy and Anno Un for being too restrained, Fuuko is being criticized by Andy for treating the rest of the team as a replacement for Unjustice. It isn't "if we had Unjustice we wouldn't need everyone else" or even "because we have everyone else we don't need Unjustice." It's "we have everyone, so we can win," and whether Fuuko, Victor or even Apocalypse wants it or not, Julia is here, and she wants to help

The Master Rules are clearly afraid of Unjustice, so whether or not it's technically "necessary," it's a bad move to simply eschew it because it would force Julia to fight. To insist that Julia will never be happy if she has to take up Juiz's sword completely ignores both her autonomy and her capabilities, and puts everyone at risk through yet another "self-imposed challenge" as Andy refers to Fuuko's refusal to use Remember

Julia's idea of happiness is clearly tied to her sense of justice, as evidenced by how strongly she idolizes Juiz, and there's no way she'd ever be able to be happy knowing that she could help but isn't. To ask her to stand aside, to find her own happiness, even at the expense of others, is to condemn her to unhappiness. This was where Juiz and Victor diverged, and it is where Fuuko cannot afford to diverge from Julia

Unjustice

It's still debatable whether or not Julia will actually get Unjustice, but I think that Fuuko's supposition that Remember wouldn't help is only half true. She believes that Unjustice needs to be triggered by Victor and therefore can't be triggered, as Julia has no connection to him

However, we know that Julia is aware of Victor through Juiz. Just like Victor's memories leak through Undead's unique interaction with Remember, Juiz's memories still leak through Julia's subconscious, likely through her soul, and she definitely knows how much Victor means to Juiz

In other words, the only thing that Julia really needs to awaken Unjustice is to understand how unjust fate has been to Victor and Juiz. Remember may not necessarily do that, as it will likely only give Juiz context, but that context is important for reaching the conclusion she needs: Victor and Juiz are gone

While Andy and Julia have inherited their wills, they've also superseded their bodies and souls. They are their own people, even if they do gain their total memories from Remember. Andy and Julia will never have the relationship that Victor and Juiz did, even if they will come to love and care for each other

And that's not fair

Victor and Juiz are the only members of the Union who won't have the happy ending that everyone else is going to get, but they're the ones who gave up the most to get everyone else to that point. That's cruel, and in my opinion flies in the face of everything this series is trying to say

Even if Julia and Juiz truly unify, reviving Juiz's soul while allowing both of them to continue to pursue Julia's idea of happiness, they won't have Victor, and that's cruel. Yes, she'll accept it because she always wanted Victor to be able to die, but Fuuko wanted to help Andy die too at first. Now, they want to enjoy life together, because his desire to die was misguided. Victor was the same way, so isn't it only right that he get to learn that truth too?

When Julia realizes the extent of how much has been taken from her and the people she loves, that feeling of injustice will surely inspire strong enough emotion to awaken Unjustice

And if I'm wrong, then it isn't hard to imagine that she'll be able to awaken it through finding someone else she cares about just as much as Juiz cared about Victor. This will likely be Fuuko, but maybe I'm also wrong about her relationship with Andy and she'll see in him what Juiz saw in Victor and they really will rekindle their relationship through their successors. There's a ton of ways it can go, but with how often this cast is just straight-up wrong about things, I'm not banking on Fuuko being right about this

Either way, it's looking like we're going to find out pretty soon, since the Union just lost three months of prep time

Boss Rush

I don't know about you guys, but god damn, the dread I felt when Fuuko's phone started bugging out. It was like I could hear the soundtrack screeching to a halt, and turning the page to see that Apocalypse entered his equivalent of Phase 3 was like getting hit with a scare chord

While for me this was a pretty exciting way to transition into the next arc, unfortunately I'm aware that some folks felt a different kind of dread from this moment. We all want to see some downtime and get an opportunity to develop the cast a bit more, and a lot of us were worrying last week about the series speeding up towards the endgame, so seeing something like this happen is definitely concerning

It doesn't help that Andy called it a "speedrun," which definitely implies "we're trying to get to the end as quickly as possible," but I think the original Japanese, "Time Attack," may have been meant more to evoke a Boss Rush mode rather than an Any% run, but David Evelyn definitely knows more about the linguistic nuances than me, so take that with a grain of salt. That said, I do think it's fun that there are eight enemies to fight like a Megaman game. I guess this would make Sun the Yellow Devil and Luna Wily, huh? Cus Luna's definitely going to be the real final boss, I know it

...Robot Master Rules...if any of you draw that, credit me, please

Anyway, while I would have appreciated the downtime, I do think contextually it makes perfect sense that the Master Rules are deliberately interfering and minimizing the Union's opportunities to train. They're playing to win, and if they have the ability to increase their odds, they're going to take it

It reminds me of the Minus Arc in Medaka Box, when some of the cast went to train and got intercepted by the bad guys and knocked out of the battle entirely. "Why would we just sit around and wait for you to get stronger?" This isn't a competition, this is a bet, one that will decide the fate of the world and everyone in it. There is zero reason to take unnecessary risks, even if the interference tacitly acknowledges that the enemy is a credible threat. Who cares that they know you're scared if you've prevented them from doing anything about it?

But there is still one thing the Union can do, and they've been putting it off forever: they can use Remember

This is the other reason I think this choice works from a narrative perspective: Fuuko keeps finding excuses not to use Remember, so losing those three months necessitates finding an alternate method of powering up the team, especially since Julia is definitely going to be a target, so if nothing else she'll be better equipped to defend herself with Juiz's martial prowess. I don't know if it will help everyone awaken to their souls or not, but it should at least give a burst of inspiration for alternate uses of their Rules

Again, I understand the apprehensions, but I found it to be a very exciting kickoff for the arc, and like I said last week, each fight is still liable to get a decent chapter count. Hell, the few Quests we've seen on screen still had a bit of time to chill just before or during; they took a couple days before Autumn to write a manga, dammit, then had a whole training arc inside Andy's brain. Unless the Master Rules are actively going to swarm the Roundtable, I'm not expecting this to be an absolute breakneck battle royale, which I think is what people are afraid of

Even if it does come to that, though, I think that would end up looking more like the Spring Arc than anything else, where everyone paired up to fight their thematic opposite and still had great character moments within. Tozuka has shown that he's perfectly capable of balancing something like that, so whatever route he chooses, I'm just not going to worry about it unless the story itself seems to be taking a notable dip in quality

We can't control what happens next, and all of it is being made with the express intent of entertaining us, so panicking about how Jump is forcing Tozuka to rush or what have you is just going to make it harder to enjoy what Tozuka gives us. Try to stay calm and have fun with it; that's what I plan to do at least

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

#undead unluck #fouryearsandananime #4y1a reviews

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stargazer-sims · 7 months

Text

The Rumour Mill

Caroline: Nora! We're a week and a half into the school year, and this is the first we've seen of you. Where have you been?

Camellia: For that matter, where were you all summer? I mean, not that me and Forest and Caroline particularly wanted to hang out with you every single day or whatever, but... you know. We were still concerned.

Nora: My parents made me get a job, so I was working at a summer camp in Granite Falls.

Caroline: No, you weren't. Camellia and I were at Llama Scout camp in August, and I know for a fact that the scout camp is the only organized summer camp up there.

Nora: Pfft... Llama Scouts. That's so lame.

Caroline: It is not!

Camellia: Yeah. We're going to be assistant scout leaders for the Little Llamas after we turn eighteen. Right, Caroline?

Caroline: Right.

Nora: Anyway, what I did this summer is none of your business.

Camellia: Fine, but whatever it really was, it obviously couldn't have been something as physically active as summer camp.

Nora: What are you talking about?

Camellia: Well, not to state the obvious or anything, but your belly is kinda falling out the top of those shorts. It’s not a good look.

Caroline: You're probably going to get dress coded for that, actually.

Nora: Why do you care?

Camellia: We're not total jerks. We don't want you to get detention. Maybe you can borrow a hoodie from one of the boys. It'll cover up your bump and, uh... also that stain on your top.

Nora: It's not a bump.

Camellia: What else would you call it? I mean, if I didn't know better, I'd say you're pregnant, 'cause that's kinda what it looks like.

Nora: So what if that’s how it looks? My body, my business.

Caroline: Nora, you're not really pregnant are you? Is it from the boy I overheard Victor and Aunt Ellie talking about? You know that's totally going to ruin your future.

Camellia: Hang on... Nora, you met a boy? When did this happen? I guess that'd make the pregnancy make sense, wouldn't it?

Nora: Shut up! I'm not pregnant! And even if I was, why would the two of you need to know? Plus, you don't give a crap about my future, Caroline. You don't even like me. And anyway, he's not a boy. He's a man, which is something you wouldn't know anything about. Your stupid little boyfriend probably hasn't even worked up the nerve to kiss you yet.

Caroline: Forest isn't stupid. Don't talk about him like that.

Camellia: You know what I think? Methinks the lady does protest too much.

Caroline: Like... Shakespeare?

Camellia: Exactly. Like, you wouldn't deny it that hard if it wasn't true.

Caroline: Nora, if you're pregnant, you need to tell your parents. Aunt Ellie and Uncle Leo would—

Nora: They wouldn't do anything. They don't give a crap about me either. They're too busy making a big deal of my brother. You know, in between rounds of trying to self-destruct their marriage.

Caroline: Parents have problems sometimes. That doesn't mean they don't love you or care about you.

Nora: Oh, like you'd know. What's the biggest problem your parents have? When dumbass Uncle Victor can't remember where he put his shoes again, or when Uncle Yuri is late for his manicure?

Caroline: That's mean, and it's not true.

Nora: Your parents are so fairytale, it’s disgusting. I hate how perfect your life is.

Caroline: Hate all you want, but you have no idea what goes on at our house. We have problems you don’t know anything about, but even when stuff is really bad, I know Victor and Yuri still love me, and they'd still support me even if I made a really bad choice like getting pregnant before I graduate high school.

Nora: For the last time, I'm not pregnant! Now, if you guys are done harassing me, I have to get to class.

Camellia: Would your parents really support you if you got pregnant? 'Cause my dads would lose it if that happened to me. Like, I slept with Hayden for the first time this summer, and afterwards we both freaked out because it was kinda spontaneous and we didn't use protection.

Caroline: I didn't say Victor and Yuri wouldn't lose it. They totally would, but they'd still support me. We always support each other, and I don't think that'd change. But more important point here, you and Hayden... did it? I didn't know you were even allowed to date. If Forest isn't, how come you are?

Camellia: That's the thing. We're not allowed to date. Can you keep a secret?

Caroline: Of course. You know I keep all your secrets.

Camellia: Well, I was babysitting at a neighbour's house, and I texted Hayden to come over. We did it after I put the baby in bed.

Caroline: Was it... good?

Camellia: Honestly? Not really. Right at the end if felt amazing, but when he was, you know… inside me, it hurt a little at first and it was... I don't know. Really awkward. And the scare afterwards was totally not worth it.

Caroline: So, do you think Forest and I shouldn't do it?

Camellia: I don't know. I guess you should talk it over with Forest and like, plan it out. Use protection, and maybe don't do it on the sofa in somebody else's living room. At least we had the sense to put down a couple of blankets, but I would rather not have had to do laundry at my babysitting job, and... yeah.

Caroline: What are you and Hayden going to do now?

Camellia: We're gonna try to hold off until we graduate, or at least until I turn eighteen in January. And we're definitely going to be safe. Hayden and I both want to go to university, and I'm not about to risk messing up his chances, not to mention my own.

Caroline: If Forest and I do it, we're absolutely going to use protection. I don't know if I want to go to university yet, but I don't really want to be a mom either. Not now, when I’m still in school. That'd be the worst thing ever.

Camellia: Personally, I think the worst thing ever would be getting pregnant and then realizing you have to handle everything on your own. At least if it happened to one of us, our families would take care of us even if they weren't thrilled about the situation. Like, do you think Nora's parents really don't care?

Caroline: They care, and Nora is lying when she says Aunt Ellie wouldn't support her.

Camellia: Do you think she's really pregnant?

Caroline: I don't know.

Camellia: I guess time will tell, yeah? And speaking of time, we should probably get to class.

Caroline: Yeah.

Camellia: Wow, we’re somehow still early.

Caroline: Or the teacher is late.

Camellia: Okay, since we’ve got a minute, tell me what you know about this boy Nora met.

Caroline: I don’t know a lot. I think she met him right at the end of last school year. All I know is, I don't think Aunt Ellie was too pleased about it. I heard her complaining to Victor that she can't control Nora any more.

Camellia: Our parents don't control us. Not since we were really little kids who didn't know anything.

Caroline: Neither do mine. Yuri and Victor always say part of growing up is learning to make your own choices. They don't have to control me. They ask me to do stuff, and I usually make the choice to do what they ask. I think, if somebody's parents have to control them, it means they don't know how to think for themselves and make good choices.

Camellia: Or their parents don't trust them to think and make good choices.

Caroline: I can't imagine my parents not trusting me. That'd be horrible.

Camellia: Yeah. I'm glad my parents trust me.

Caroline: It's much better that way.

Camellia: So, here's something I want to know. If you found out about Nora meeting a guy back in the spring or whatever, how come you didn't tell me and Forest? You didn't tell Forest, did you?

Caroline: I didn't tell anybody, mostly because that one conversation was the first and last I heard about him. I didn't even get his name or how old he is or anything.

Camellia: Obviously he's older than us.

Caroline: Why do you think that?

Camellia: 'Cause she said he's a man. I think we're all realistic enough not to call guys our age men. Like, I don't call Hayden a man and I don't think he expects me to, but I think an older guy would be insulted if you called him a boy.

Caroline: Good logic. I wonder how much older he is?

Camellia: Let's keep our ears and eyes open, and maybe we'll find out.

Caroline: Definitely.

#ts4 #sims 4 #willow creek #willow creek high school #Caroline Okamoto-Nelson #Camellia Abbottsford #Leonora DeLuca #tw pregnancy mention #tw sex mention #stargazersims

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dross-the-fish · 11 months

Note

what do you think of the 1994 Frankenstein movie?

I'll be honest, I hate on that one more for its wasted potential than anything else. I feel like it tried to adapt the book but then it kept adding stupid shit and missing the mark.

Let's start with it's biggest crime. Kenneth Branagh, our director.

Oh Kenny Branagh my beloathed. We meet again. I've had it out for you ever since I had to stomach your ridiculous Shakespeare movies in high school drama class. I've watched as you brought your overwrought hammy sensibilities to Agatha Christie's Poirot and now here you are, injecting all of your overblown histrionics into Frankenstein.

I didn't think it was possible to be too dramatic for Frankenstein. But by god you've done it. There is so much scenery chewing, screeching, writhing and sweating in this that I actually started to feel fatigued and clocked out mentally about half way through the film.

Kenneth cast himself as the lead and I hate this version of Victor so much.

Wtf is this? Why does he have abs? Why is he in his mid 30's? Where is my sickly waif who gets feverish at the drop of a hat? Why have you done this?

Also I know they're canonically engaged but I really dislike for Victor and Elizabeth to be horny for each other especially in this movie because they keep bringing up their relationship as siblings and it's just eugh, please don't talk about her like that and then remind us that she's your sister you fucking weirdo. Their relationship in the book comes off as super uncomfortable to me and I swear Victor is way more into Robert and Henry than he is Elizabeth. Naturally this movie decided it should have next to no homoeroticism.

"How do brothers and sisters say good bye?" - start aggressively making out. No I'm not joking this movie goes out of its way to remind you that they are siblings.

.... And then it goes there with it.

Victor actually proposes to her and then asks her to come to Ingolstadt with him or offers to stay in Geneva with her and it's at that point where I'm like: did you read this book? Victor dodged their semi-arranged engagement like the woman had cooties and didn't write to her for two years because he's an obsessive, neurotic wreck.

Oh yeah and Henry Clerval is in it.

Oh were you hoping for more of him? That's a shame because so was I.

I've mentioned that this movie is over dramatic. But that really can't be understated. It's like a mac truck crashing through an English garden. No subtlety at all. If a character has to feel something they're usually screaming at the top of their lungs. Victor screaming at the creature to live, the creature literally ripping Elizabeth's still beating heart from her chest and showing it to Victor. They decided the bride should be Elizabeth and that there should be weird tension between her and the creature. Then after she's brought back to life she sets herself on fire and starts running down the halls of the manor.

I should probably have found that more tragic than I did but I just found the whole thing silly.

Justine's death in particular should have been more heavy and somber. She gets dragged off by a mob and hung. The scene is violent and cruel but it lacks the tragedy of the book. We have none of Justine quietly giving up and Elizabeth vehemently refusing to believe she's guilty. It's one of the few character building moments Elizabeth gets and this movie takes what should be a touching, somber and heartbreaking scene and turns it into a spectacle.

Everyone's reaction to everything is to do the most extreme thing possible but they never actually earn it because moments were the film SHOULD have emotional weight are kind of glanced over. The book has a lot of themes of grief and isolation but the film doesn't really explore those aspects effectively. It never stops to have a quiet or thoughtful moment. Almost like it's afraid the audience will get bored if someone isn't shrieking at the top of their lungs and some action heavy drama is going down.

The pacing in this film is jarring. Kenneth Branagh has a love for lavish sets, beautiful scenery and his films, if nothing else, are opulent spectacles, there are moments in this film where the cinematography is actually quite beautiful but I always feel that it's wasted by clumsy execution.

There are also scenes that come so painfully close to working, like early on in the movie Elizabeth and Justine drag Victor away from his work to go on a picnic and he only goes because he's hoping for a storm. He puts down a lightning rod and has everyone get down so they can observe the strike. I thought that could have been really neat and a good way to set up Victor's obsession but the execution was so clunky and the moment the lightning strikes and the four of them feel the static isn't allowed to sit and breathe. It jolts to the very next scene with no transition.

There are things I like about Robert De Nero's creature.

I like his design, even if it's not book accurate. I don't inherently like the idea of him being a resurrected cadaver of a specific criminal but I do, at times, almost like what they do with it, like having him wonder who all of his various parts came from. De Niro is a strong actor and I feel like there were the makings of a good performance here and it was stifled under bad writing and directing. I actually like most of the scenes where the creature speaks to Victor and the line "What of my soul? Do I have one? Or was that a part you left out? Who were these people of which I am comprised? Good people? Bad people?" is spoken with such poignant suffering that you really see how lost the creature is and it drives home the tragedy of the creature's condition. The creature is begging Victor to see him as human and Victor cannot or will not.

But these rare moments of something good peeking out are few and far between and the movie devolves again into it's predilection for overblown bombast. Even the final scene where the creature finds Victor dead on Robert Walton's ship isn't allowed to have the gravitas it deserves because Victor's funeral ends with the ice breaking in yet another tedious action sequence and the creature floats out to sea on a chunk of the broken ice setting himself and Victor's corpse on fire.

This was a moment in the movie that should have been handled with dignity and regret and I got this:

There's really not much else to say about this film. I went into it hoping for a good Frankenstein adaptation and I tried to find salvageable scraps but there just wasn't enough good to make the movie worthwhile for me.

Anyway, sorry this turned into a whole review but I was bitterly disappointed in this film and ended up having a lot to say.

#1994 frankenstein #Frankenstein #Dross reviews

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kaigarax · 11 months

Text

Passion

Bachira Meguru x Reader

Quote: "Fall in love with someone you'd die for."

“I knew you or I would’ve died. Or maybe even both of us. Yet I cried when the moment came. I cried so desperately that I didn’t think I’d ever stop. And I cried, not just because you died for me but because I knew that I’d never get the chance to see you smile again.”

‘Click.’

“Now ain’t that just some of the sappiest garbage I’ve heard in awhile.” Ego Jinpachi exclaimed.

“Really?” Bachira asked, “I thought it was quite sweet.”

Ego sighed, “and that sentiment is why you will die in the arena.”

“Then I guess that would make two of us.” You said softly as you gave him a slight nudge of acknowledgment.

Ego eyed the two of you from the top of his mug before taking a deep gulp. There might’ve been a ‘tsk’ of the tongue or a rolling of his eyes if the two of you had been able to see it. But, alas, at least the hard man had enough decency to keep some of his harsh criticisms to himself. Especially as the modestly dressed capital woman, Anri, smiled, her voice gentle as she agreed, “I quite liked that speech as well from last year’s Victor.”

“And that,” Ego said, pointing to her accusingly, “is why District 7 hasn’t had a Victor in almost twenty years now. Half hearted effort and pointless sentiments.”

Ego and Anri shared a look. It was accusatory, annoyed and almost desperate. Yes, Bachira figured, that was definitely desperation. What he couldn’t figure out, on the other hand, was why?

“Well?” Ego asked expectantly.

Now you and Bachira shared a look.

Bachira wondered if the man would get up to leave after clearly being outnumbered in this argument but he had sat in place. Tapping his fingers impatiently while his eyes burned holes into the heads of this year's two tributes, yourself and Bachira. Almost as if he were waiting for everyone else to leave his compartment.

You leaned towards Bachira, your warmth serving as a gentle reminder that he wouldn’t be alone going into this. The two of you had never been that close (actually Bachira never had friends in the first place) but he found it… nice? No. The moment was too somber for it to be nice. Then perhaps comforting?

Yes. That was it.

It was comforting.

---

“Oh, Bachira,” You looked at him from your place at the window sill, “you’re still up?” The moonlight made you seem almost ghostly, the warm hue from this morning long forgotten. Your hair looked clean and shiny as it hung uninhibited by anything as it usually did, freely framing your features and face. Bachira might have even thought you pretty if not for the tired look in your eyes. No, that was a lie. He thought you were pretty. In fact, he always thought you were pretty, even when covered from head to toe in dirt.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “you can’t either.”

You patted the spot across from you, “if the constant poking and prodding wasn’t enough to keep me up then the cameras and loud voices from this afternoon definitely were.”

Bachira grinned, propping himself up onto the window sill and across from you, “that and the looming threat of imminent death.”

“Ah yes, imminent death. How could that have slipped my mind.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” he chuckled, “it happens to the best of us.”

Your tired eyes looked up at him, shining silver in the moonlight.

There was a book in your hands, tucked tightly to your chest. It was old and tattered and almost reminded Bachira of something. Though he wasn’t all too sure of what that ‘something’ might’ve been.

“You’re sweaty.” You said.

“I prefer to call it a post workout glow~”

“Well, at least you’re able to do something productive with your excess energy.”

“What do you do?” Bachira asked, “to work out the nerves and relax?”

“Back at home I used to read but it definitely doesn't seem to have the same effect out here.”

“You could always come and work out with me.”

“While a very kind offer I think I’ll have to decline. I’m afraid I’d be too sore. I’m nowhere near as fit as you so working out too much can only do me harm in the arena.” You turned to look out the window, “the moon’s quite beautiful tonight, isn’t it.”

“Yeah,” Bachira smiled, his eyes locking onto your awe stricken expression, “it is. It sucks that it takes us entering into a death arena to finally appreciate it though.”

You laughed, “very true, Mr. Bachira.”

“So what’s your book about?”

“It’s a romance novel.”

“Oh~” Bachira moved so that the two of you were sitting side by side instead of across from one another, “exciting.”

You leaned against the boy despite him still being sticky from his workout, “more sad than exciting, actually.”

“How so?”

“Well, it’s a story similar to our own. A girl volunteers for her sister and ends up falling in love with the boy that ended up having to come with her.” You smiled, “of course, the boy is already in love with her by the time the story begins.”

“Do they make it? The couple?”

“I don’t know.”

“What! Why not?”

“Because I’ve always been too scared to read the end. Better to speculate about the ending, ya know.”

Bachira could only shrug in response.

He certainly didn’t think being stuck in suspense was fun. In fact, even the thought of not knowing the ending was enough to keep him up for the rest of the night. He’d have to find a way to wrestle that book from you and read the ending himself before the end of the night. Not that he’d have to.

The edge of his hand brushes up against yours.

“Do you think it ends happily?” Asks Bachira.

Your hand stays right there. Not jerking away from his own but not close enough to be touching.

You shake your head, “no.”

You don’t move to take his hand and he doesn't move to take yours either.

“Ya know,” you begin, “I used to always think about this moment when I was younger. Though I never really thought that I’d actually be standing up here.”

“Me neither.” Says Bachira, though if he thinks back hard he doesn't think he ever really had a guess of if he'd ever be here or not. It was never really something he’d ever let cross his mind. Not when he was all his mother seemed to have.

“Well, out of everyone I could’ve been paired with, I’m happy it’s you.”

Bachira smiled, “me too.”

“No wait. I'll take that back.”

“What? No take backs!”

“Yes, take backs.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want you to die.”

And with that he definitely wouldn’t be able to sleep for the rest of the night. How could he when you were so close.

And for a while, you and him no longer speak. But it’s okay. Neither of you need to speak right now. Not when there are no more words that need to be shared. There can never be anything more shared without an important line being crossed. A line that should never be crossed. Afterall, while the two of you could be allies entering the arena you would have to eventually fight the other.

Most certainly at least one of you would have to die.

Bachira smiles, watching as you slowly lean your head on the side of the window. He debates going to grab a blanket to cover you when you fall asleep but decides against it. Even if you did find a safe haven here you would be very uncomfortable the morning after. Instead, he’ll take you back to your bed.

Your heart seems to be louder than the large clock in the middle of the room as Bachira finally looks to stare out the window.

You were right.

The moon is very beautiful tonight.

---

“And how about you, Mr. Bachira?” Asks the announcer, his voice filled with excitement and joy, “any special ladies in your life.”

“Well, there does happen to be one that I’ve stumbled across recently.”

“Oh, do tell! Do tell!”

Bachira turns to look at the camera, giving his warmest and most dashing smile. Of course he obviously does it for the cameras and guidance but a small part, a teeny tiny miniscule part, does it for you. He isn’t all too sure why but he knows deep down that there’s a part in his chest that wants yours to race as well.

“Getting the chance to know her has to be the absolute best time of my life.”

“Wow! Quite the praise this young lady has received!” The announcer leans in, curiosity both a professional interviewer and curious onlooker seem to mix in, “and what has she done to earn such praise?”

Bachira grins, not one of those dashing smiles but a genuine smile that goes along with his fluttering stomach, “that’s for me to know and you to wonder.”

The crowd applauds loudly as Bachia makes his way back to where you’re standing. The rest of the Tributes eye him for a moment before looking back at the crowd and current interview.

The back of your hand brushes against his.

“You did well.” You say quietly.

Bachira smiles, “thank you Miss. (L/n).”

---

“Don’t get too close with her, Bachira.” Says Ego, his voice methodical and cold.

‘Of course,’ he thinks but instead he answers, “why not?” despite already knowing the answer.

Ego rolls his eyes, seemingly done with holding himself back, “because it’ll only complicate things when the two of you are in the arena. While it’s a good idea in front of the crowd but you shouldn’t be doing something like that when the cameras can’t see you.”

“And if I want to?”

The cold man sighs, “then it’s your funeral I’ll be attending.”

---

It’s quite enough to hear a pin drop, Bachira thinks as he quietly sits beside you waiting for the moment he’s called to be judged. He’s shivering ever so slightly in his seat, though from the cold or nervousness he isn’t too sure.

One girl is staring at her hands, as if trying to recount all the knowledge that she’s acquired throughout the span of her life. Another boy is looking up at the sky, seeming to be praying to a deity that is unknown to Bachira. And then there’s you, leaning towards him, with a book in hand. It’s the same one that you were reading that night on the window sill. Actually, it’s the one he’s always seen you with.

Bachira thinks that you’ve likely reread that book at least a hundred times by now.

He’s actually had a chance to borrow it from you. Only for an hour of course but that was enough. Not enough to read the book but enough for him to learn about you. Like all your favourite lines in the book that you’ve underlined or the parts that you’ve reread so many times that the words on those pages have begun to fade.

He knows that you dot your eyes with small circles instead of simple dots as seen from the little notes you’ve written in the corners of the pages; and how you’re horrible at writing poems as seen evident from all the cringey words written between the margins and lines. But he likes them. In fact he had even-

“District 7. Bachira Meguru.” Says the cold robotic voice of the announcer. Though, humorously, Bachira thinks it might have more emotion than the current District 7 Victor.

“Good luck.” You say, breaking the silence of the room.

Everyone turns to look at the two of you, almost as if they know something the two of you don’t.

Bachira does his best to give you that daredevil grin he remembered you saying you liked, “of course. You too, Miss (L/n).”

And he feels rather invigorated as he enters the room to be tested. Not just because he knows he'll do well but because you wished him luck.

It’s weird.

Why would such a thing make him so happy in the first place?

Bachira isn’t all too sure why.

No. He takes that back.

The two of you are the only ones to wish someone luck. Or at least the only people that he’s heard.

---

On the eve of entering the arena Bachira finds you back in your spot on the window sill.

You look back, hearing his footsteps as he makes his way towards you.

Silently, you scooch over.

He takes a seat directly beside you, not bothering to leave any space.

Tonight, he will ignore everything his mind has been telling him. Tonight he listens to his heart. Tonight, he chooses to sit beside you.

You’re warm, like always. And he’s sweaty but you still lean towards him tonight, finally resting your head on his shoulder.

“Are you scared?” You ask.

“No,” Bachia answers, “and yes.”

“Me too.”

“But I think you have a pretty good chance at winning.”

You laugh, “you’re only saying that.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh. And what makes you say that Mr. Bachira?” You ask, doing your best to mimic the announcer from what feels like so many nights ago.

“Because you’re smart.”

And you can only laugh in response. Bachira knows it’s because you don’t believe him but it's true. Even if you don’t think so, he knows it’s true. Afterall he doubts he’d be here if it wasn’t for you.

His heart aches and his stomach is doing that weird fluttering thing again.

Is it the Capital food? It’s been doing that ever since he got on the train and doesn't seem to be stopping any time soon. He had considered seeing a doctor but didn’t want any rumors starting over it. He didn’t want anything to get in the way of him getting sponsors like a sickness so common among the sick.

But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if those sponsors instead chose to look at you.

His hand brushes up against yours.

“May the odds be ever in your favour, Bachira.”

“Call me Meguru.”

“Okay,” you say in that soft voice that he remembers you speaking at the end of the reaping, “Meguru.”

And suddenly his heart feels warm again. Of course, this time he knows for certain why.

His heart had said it.

His smile and his eyes had said it.

The crowd had said it.

Even he had said it before his mind finally realised it.

He finally grabs your hand. It feels so small and tiny on its own. So unprepared for what's to come. But that’s not what he’s thinking of. He knows for certain that it doesn't matter. Not just because you’re smart but because you have him.

“I love you (Y/n).”

Fall in love with someone you’d die for.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bachira meguru x reader #100 ways to fall in love

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fourthclone · 4 months

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@backwaterheroics just asked me something that got the gears turning when it comes to roche . . . so i've established in the past that roche is very blood - knight adjacent , right ? what excites roche most of all is what is found in the thrill of a good fight . however , wanton destruction isn't really enough for roche , in fact , wanton destruction is just one of the many side - effects of his degradation .

let's look at the qualities roche exhibits as a rival - type character . well , we know that in remake , roche heals cloud with an elixir before their 1v1 . he's got an unhinged air of unease about him , yes , but he doesn't seek to kill cloud ; he just wishes to prove his own skills and his own mettle . this is made even more evident by roche's continuous efforts to let cloud escape ; sincerely wishing for his survival . i mean hey , he can't die ! when next they fight , he's going to be even stronger !

we also know that roche isn't a sore loser . roche loses with grace . you can tell that his losses disappoint him , but this is never anything he takes out on cloud . during every single battle with him , he concedes that he has lost , and consistently praises cloud for his skill . roche , as we can see , respects a strong fighter , and he's very quick to befriend them as a result . this is his language , after all : years of fighting have rendered this his default ; befriending others by playfully antagonizing them for a fight . his humanity , in essence , fades into this idea that he is a weapon , but the softer intents are still there .

so fights are bonding experiences for roche . this is how he seeks out cloud's friendship , and if it wasn't , he wouldn't be having as much fun as he does ( it's a game to him ! he's just playing ! ) , neither would he say things like 'maybe next time we can keep this just between the two of us !' in remake after their first battle . if the relationship were purely about competition or selfishness , i don't think roche would go through the lengths he does to recognize cloud as the victor .

back to more of roche's chivalric tendencies : he does not wish to get people involved who have nothing to do with his duel with his opponent . this is made evident when he invites cloud to a proper duel between the two of them in remake , and he detests other people interfering . he extends proper invitations for a duel first , and if he doesn't , he makes sure to make up for it in some way . like yeah bro , that was a good fight gg , now let me beat up these grunts in your way . he also stops cloud when he looks around at the grunts in rebirth after defeating roche and asks: ' anyone else ? ' because cloud still thinks this is an antagonistic thing ; he doesn't see it as a knightly duel , which is why roche is quick to say : ' come now ... this duel was ours alone . ' for roche , all duels have rules , so he deeply hesitates to pursue a fight with anyone who isn't SOLDIER unless they're more than up for the challenge . nevertheless , those fights aren't all that fun for him . he believes in fairness , where two warriors fight as equals and the only determining factor that differentiates both opponents is raw skill .

i do hesitate to ever headcanon that roche ever went to hojo for a special procedure with the explicit pursuit of power . this goes completely against roche's values as a knight ( again , this is what he thinks he is - and what he thought SOLDIER meant . he believed in SOLDIER honor very , very earnestly ) . he does not want power beyond what he had ; he wants his health back . he wants his speed and his spryness . he took great pride in being one of the fastest SOLDIER alive in his prime , and he was certainly a force to be reckoned with . what he believes is keeping him from ever meeting cloud as an equal is not his lack of special powers or enhancements , but because he's witnessing his own slow death , and to a weapon , as he weakens , this robs him of his purpose .

and that doesn't really matter if we switch words here and say that to a knight , this robs him of purpose , because either identity requires him to be able to fight . he's spent LITERALLY an entire decade and then some fighting for shinra , and he joined so young too and obtained so much meaning out of his identity as SOLDIER , you think degradation doesn't hit him like a ton of bricks ? and seeing these things and what he values , do we sincerely think that roche is above despair ?

he doesn't show it because when he loses , he doesn't want to make any of this about him . he wants to acknowledge cloud's courage , or leadership , or strength , or what-have-you . this is his friend , whom he admires ⸻ and part of being a knight is losing with grace and honor . but that doesn't mean his true face doesn't show outside of cloud's presence . we don't see it , so we'll never know ⸻ but the fact he ends up under hojo's knife tells me everything i need to know to infer that roche sincerely believed he could outrun his degradation ⸻ not for wanton power or mere adrenaline , but for friendship . and that is why what happens to him in rebirth is so tragic . i simply can't get behind the idea that he doesn't feel lonely . i definitely believe he is aware he does not ' fit in ' anywhere and he's just kind of . right back where he started w / his lonely childhood . he's got the admirers . he's got his haters . he's even in a position of leadership/some degree of power , at least toward his subordinates as captain of the mobile unit . but what does that matter when his heart is wanting ?

#⚡ ⸺ ❝ moogle's cooking show . [ hc ]#⚡ ⸺ ❝ moghome . [ ooc ]#maybe soon i will actually write icly instead of dissecting roche for the billionth time but #i'm sorry i forever find his chivalric tendencies so fascinating

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mayashesfly · 5 months

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Human Vox Headcanons

His old name was Vincent Wilhelm Oxley. He was born in New York within a family of German descent who immigrated to America during the 1850s.

His family is rather rich despite some difficulties. And they own their own studio, so Vox became a child star.

He was born with beautiful blonde hair and complete heterochromia eyes (right brown, left blue)

Due to his mismatched eyes, there were rumors that he was secretly mixed during a time interracial relationships were heavily frowned upon. So he and his parents tried their best to hide his mismatched eyes by using tinted glasses and having bangs on that side of his head.

He failed spectacularly at being a child actor since he wasn't able to convey subtle emotions easily enough unlike over the top personalities. (Not that you should expect much from a child acting mind you)

The industry of child acting during his time didn't help matters much because it was rather fucked up.

His parents, particularly his father, only praises him and gives him attention and affection whenever he did a good job at acting. He would even get toys for a job well done. His mother wasn't as emotionally present in his life either, only providing his basic needs and then ignoring him the entire day to go back to her room. He didn't really understand why, but he swears he heard something like hiccuping behind the door to her room.

After his father and the producers realized his personality was more fitted to be a host, they jumped at the chance of making him a child host on tv. He was able to flourish more in the scene but there wasn't really as much demand for child hosts during his time. Not to mention, he still had to hide his mismatched eyes which limited the amount of appearances he could take without outing himself as "someone who's mixed"

His career as a child wasn't improving much. Which led to him getting more neglected by his father who was always busy.

But thankfully he has a dog he named "Vark" after mispronouncing the bark his new dog made towards him.

And a certain radio show in New Orleans kept him company in his home. As a smooth voice talked and played soothing jazz music well into the night. (Sometimes he would write him fan letters. Written under a shy little Vincent until he grew old and embarrassed. And soon, that certain radio host went missing)

Cut to a few years later and Vincent reinvented himself as "Victor" a TV host just like his younger self but much more experienced and confident.

He dyed his hair a jet-black since it was in style. And wear blue contact lenses almost 24/7 to hide his mismatched eyes.

He has to regularly make eye drop breaks because of how much his contact lenses irritated his eyes from prolonged use, way over the maximum recommended usage, just so he could keep his persona up and keep his secret.

His career sky rocketed. But at this point he hardly cares if his parents give him the time of day anymore. And Vark had unfortunately died, he was a dog after all. And dogs don't have long lifespans compared to humans.

Being so charming and popular due to his success, he was able to find himself a wife and even have a child with her he lovingly named "Victoria"

But he was by no means a good husband. He was busy with keeping up his career. And finds his wife rather boring ever since they stopped having meaningful conversations together unlike before. She used to be so charming and witty. But now she was just like the rest of the boring meek women that stained his circles.

A man would be more mentally stimulating. But all of his "friends" are merely collegues and business partners he can't afford to lose nor even dare to think about confiding his feelings to. (Platonic feelings. Because surely he doesn't feel anything else towards men his age)

The only thing that woman is good for is keeping his little Victoria happy, safe and well-fed while he's not around. And oh, how he's so happy when he can come home and embrace his little girl, spending quality time with her. Looking at him like he was her entire world. Truly a charming little princess he has himself!

He didn't dare to think about making his little Victoria enter the acting scene so young however. No no no, he couldn't bare letting her experience such embarrassment. (An embarrassment on his career. On his life)

She can stay at home, completely safe from harm.

He would never let anything happen to her.

#may asher rambles #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #human vox #headcanons

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headcanonrepository · 2 years

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The Ravenwatch after Elder Scrolls Online

(warning for some darker themes)

The Three Banners War eventually ends. It doesn't really matter who 'officially' wins - there are no real victors in war.

High King Emeric eventually dies. It's not really important how - if nothing else, time catches up to everyone eventually. But this is a problem for the Ravenwatch - he is their biggest political ally and dies with no heir, leaving a power vacuum. The Covenant dissolves - without his leadership, the Orsimer loose interest in cooperation with men, and the Redguards want little to do with the Bretons now they have no political ties through marriage. There is trade between Redguard and Breton territories, but no active cooperation like sharing of military strength.

High Rock is a political nightmare - every highborn noble making their case for their slice of power, some through might and some through subtle allegiances and leveraging of favors or threats. There is something most nobles agree on - why exactly have they been allowing a whole nest of vampires to exist openly in their lands and play at being nobles themselves? Why should the (un)dead get any say on the lives of the living?

After all, the Ravenwatch is something of an open secret amongst the nobility. Tolerated while Emeric was alive - wouldn't do to openly cross the High King, after all. They could even accept Verandis to a certain degree, even if an Altmer holding Breton lands is something of a sore reminder of the Breton's cultural past. Verandis could play the political game, could charm and flatter where he needed to. Could drop just enough implication of a threat without being actively hostile to make people think twice. But with Verandis tied to the Dark Heart...

The nobles aren't sure which of his 'heirs' (which they'd challenge, given their adoptive status and nature - can you legally inherit a title and lands if you are officially dead?) is more insulting to them. A Khajiit, a Bosmer or another Altmer holding their lands? All three?

Adusa never really has a chance with diplomacy. There are too many racist assumptions before she even opens her mouth, and once she does, the Khajiiti pattern of speech marks her out as other. She isn't a natural diplomat to begin with, much preferring problems she can solve through actions, not words, but she would try, for the sake of their family.

Gwendis would try, too. She can do the noble thing for a bit - Verandis taught her well - even if she would prefer not to. She meets a lot of the same problems - deeply ingrained prejudices and an unwillingness to listen. It's deeply frustrating, and she has a harder time not showing it.

Fennorian has the best shot at resolving anything peacefully. He's seen as more 'legitimate' heir, being also an Altmer, and if the rumors are to be believed, a blood relation of Verandis'. He's also aware of etiquette and society in a way that speaks of his more 'civilised' upbringing. Unfortunately, he just isn't Verandis. He's hyperaware of etiquette because getting it wrong makes him anxious - and with such high stakes, he can't afford a single mistake. But he also hasn't had the practice, the long years of mastering just when to apply pressure and when to employ flattery.

Ultimately, no one had a chance of resolving this without bloodshed for one very simple reason: mortal nobles had no intention of peace with them in the first place.

Some noble gets the bright idea to mobilize an army against them. Well, less an army and more a mob. You see, getting common folk to fight for your latest grab for power is a hard sell - what's in it for them? But start spreading enough rumors about a nest of dangerous vampires up on the hill and people will band together to protect their families.

Every member of the Ravenwatch flees from the castle. No one is willing to fight and break their oaths - they know full well these people are guilty of nothing more than believing what they were told. Besides, the Ravenwatch castle and lands are now a target on their back - they will never be free of the vicious politics of the region if they defend their home. Nobles want any extra crumb of power they can get, and even a barren patch of dirt near the mountains is worth grabbing.

The Ravenwatch go into hiding. Gwendis, Adusa and Fennorian still try to actively hunt down and stop misbehaving vampires - they feel it is their duty. It also helps them keep some level of faith with mortals - most of them are essentially good people and worth helping, even if a small number of them ousted them from their home. Many of the other Ravenwatch members feel as though there's no point to continuing that work. It was different when they had shelter, resources, a safe place to call their own - they were happy to help back then - but now that daily survival is a more pressing concern, they don't feel quite so willing to throw themselves into more danger to protect mortals who treated them so callously. They still uphold their oaths, though whether that's out of loyalty towards the Ravenwatch ideals or fear of being the next hunted down vampire is debatable.

So the Ravenwatch is scattered, in hiding and few in number. But they are still around, still doing what they can from the shadows without any hope of recognition or reward. Over the long years, they helped a newly-turned Count in Skingraad come to terms with his nature and work out a support system that allowed him to conceal himself while still protecting his citizens. They helped a mage gain control of her hunger to the extend that she became a trusted Court Mage who only ever snacks on the contents of Solitude's prison.

They do good in the world. They try their best. And they carve out a life for themselves - a somewhat unpredictable, unstable life, but they have each other to rely on, and when they are weary, they are always welcome to stay a while in Arkathzand. Verandis always wants to know more about the state of the world on the surface and about the state of his family, even as much as it hurts to hear. It hurts more to see them leave after, knowing full well that there is no certainty they will return again, that Tamriel is more dangerous than ever for their kind. That should the worst happen, Verandis would have no way to know. That all he can do is hope and trust his family to come back to him.

#headcanon #ravenwatch #house ravenwatch #verandis ravenwatch #gwendis #adusa daro #fennorian #basically any time you see a vaguely friendly vampire in an ES game - Ravenwatch did that

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