#Lavinia adopt me

[horrifichaunts]

Our vows said "'til death do we part," but it seems we're both rather bad at "resting in peace." I guess we truly were meant to be, you and I. A rare hare pair~

(for Lavinia, after death)

A low inhuman growl, metaphorical shadowy hackles raising. 

“The only reason...you have not been ....red-uced to the remnant-s of atoms... is my lack of physicality...and b-being told not to interfere.” 

A sound akin to cracking bones as some of her shadows contort and twist.

“You are not w-welcome.”

[flavourlessfiction]

Like Magnets (6726 words)

On the third floor, he finally found an empty room, leaning his head against the door once it was shut. Only six more districts, filled with more faces of children he’d killed.

That he’d had to kill so he could be here.

It wasn’t their fault they hadn’t had his advantages, but it was haunting how easy childish roughhousing could translate into killer instincts.

In an attempt to find a moment of peace, Jason Todd, District 8's latest Victor, meets Tim Drake, only child of District 6's only living Victor.

@jaytimweek 2025 Day 4 - Free Day ~ Hunger Games

Part 1 of The Train You Never Get Off

The long-awaited Hunger Games AU that I've been so excited to post. You can read below the cut or on Ao3.

“It’s such a disappointment that the poor weather from Seven followed us,” Lavinia complained as she pressed the cards into his hands. They were halfway through the Victory Tour, and Jason continued to find himself in awe of the paper cards his escort handed over.

It was nothing like his school books, which would rip at the slightest bit of pressure from his pen. No, the cards were so thick they were more like a stiff fabric that District Eight sold to the Capitol, certainly superior to the patchwork clothing he wore before the reaping. 

The weight of the five cards a not so subtle reminder of the arena, always five, no matter the length of the speech, she would hand them over with a comment about the district they were arriving in.

From his limited contact with Capitol citizens, it seemed to be a habit many of them had adopted, speaking for the sake of speaking, not so much to avoid an awkward silence but to remind others of their importance, emphasising their accent. It was nothing like engaging them in genuine conversation, and Lavinia was one of the worst at it.

The few times he’d listened in on her conversations with his mentors, her tone would shift, start to loosen and then she’d catch herself, and the affect would return. He’d stopped engaging in more than brief exchanges following the games, leaving her plenty of air to share her thoughts on his every action.

Jason knew he couldn’t pretend all of her advice had been useless; she’d been an escort for 30 years, and this was her fifth Victory Tour. She knew the right things to say when he let his nerves show. She also knew the right buttons to push to get on his nerves. 

Seemingly treating him as a thing rather than a person, his mentors hadn’t been much of an improvement since he’d ‘recovered’ from his injuries; he’d sworn he’d overheard Reed call him a mutt on their first night on the train. “Shouldn’t Sable be here?” Jason mumbled as he flipped through the cards, trying to ignore the way his stomach churned when he read Aggie’s name.

“She’s resting, enjoyed a few too many libations with Seven’s victors, luckily, Janet Drake will happily guide you through today’s ceremonies,” Astrid said as she entered the carriage, the stylist holding out her selection for him to wear.

He’d heard of her before, always held up alongside Bruce Wayne as the consummate Victor, although he wasn’t sure it meant much any time he’d seen Bruce or heard him speak he’d thought the man had a stick up his ass. “What’s she like, because none of you prepared me for Dick or Barbara.”

“Oh, she’s absolutely darling, although you might not be to her taste. You’re not much older than her son, charming boy, not everyone remembers, but he was born in the Capitol.” Jason tried to ignore the insult, of course, she favoured her first Victor, and if Janet was a favourite, it only confirmed what Astrid had alluded to.

That the original distaste for him had only grown in the six months since the games. If it meant they left him alone, he wouldn’t complain. “I remember the night he was born, my father had made a hefty bet on the date, the winnings paid for my schooling,” Astrid giggled, gesturing for him to stand.

Jason had always known there was gambling on the Games, that some went as far as sponsoring those that they bet on; however, betting on a Victor giving birth just seemed a step too far even for the Capitol. Although the way Astrid and Lavinia kept chatting it seemed to be perfectly normal in their eyes.

There were many odd things they had said about other Victors, before arriving in Seven Lavinia had gone into detail about Dick and Barbara, and how she’d had a front row seat to Dick mentoring his girlfriend to victory only for the two of them to break up dramatically on the Victory Tour six months later. At the time, he’d found the chatter pointless, but when he’d met the pair, he’d realised just how much she’d left out.

The divide between the two was far wider than he could have thought, with Barbara whispering to him at one point during the party to not allow them to turn him into a mindless little plaything like Dick was. And as the night when on, watching Dick drink and cosy up to his stylist team, his smile never reaching his eyes.

Barbara had been right he was their plaything and it hadn’t taken much to get him too that point but Jason hadn’t thought it was anything other than calculated, an act to piss off Barbara more than enjoying pressing sloppy kisses to Astrid’s neck as they played party games. If he’d caught the glares thrown in her direction, then there was no doubt she’d noticed them too.

It was unlike anything he’d ever seen outside of the Capitol, the other victors had been pleasant enough, albeit somewhat wary of him, but in Seven both Barbara and Dick had gone out of their way to talk to him, apologise on behalf of the older Victors who were not in attendance, and subsequent apologise in advance for the other’s behaviour.

Lavinia’s underselling of their theatrics didn’t inspire confidence about the darling nature of Janet Drake.

**********

The District Six Hall of Justice was huge compared to any of the other Districts he’d been to on the tour, but the worst part was every room he tried to enter after escaping Astrid and his prep team was either locked or held a dozen people behind it.

He knew District Six had a higher population than any other district, even Reed had cautioned him the night before that there was no preparing for the crowd that dwarfed the crowds in Seven through 11 combined. But standing in front of them, catching a glimpse of Aggie’s family on the platform, of her sister, who couldn’t be older than 10, whose big eyes looked so much like hers.

It had taken the air out of his lungs, stumbling through Lavinia’s speech as he tried to blink back the visions of the 14-year-old who’d begged him for a merciful death, both of them understanding she could not win as the mutts closed in on them.

He’d excused himself as soon as the Hall of Justice doors closed behind him, Janet Drake whispering that he should head upstairs if he wanted some space.

It was a noble offer, the former victor understanding more than anyone else the need to escape. She’d always presented herself as the perfect victor, but the few words exchanged in her home district suggested she wasn’t the president's perfect puppet like everyone saw her.

She was easy to warm to because she knew how to get to people, almost as if it only took one look at him and she knew exactly what he needed, rather than she’d spent the past 24 years meeting haunted victors at the midpoint of their Victory Tours.

On the third floor, he finally found an empty room, leaning his head against the door once it was shut. Only six more districts, filled with more faces of children he’d killed.

That he’d had to kill so he could be here.

It wasn’t their fault they hadn’t had his advantages, but it was haunting how easy childish roughhousing could translate into killer instincts.

Haunting that even as Aggie begged him to kill her, she’d still tried to fight to the end, tiny nails drawing blood as she clawed at his wrists.

Scratches that hadn’t even scarred by the time he woke in the Capitol after taking out Lyall and Delphine.

In Four, he’d have to face both of their families, break bread with them if the stories were to be believed. Families who’d thought one of their children stood a chance of leaving the arena when they made it to the final three.

There was no illness he could feign that would provide an escape from the ceremonial duties in three days' time.

“You look like you could use some water.” The soft-spoken voice caught Jason off guard, hitting his head against the door as he jumped. “Ohh, and some ice.”

“Sorry, I didn’t realise anyone was here,” he mumbled, turning to face the room, the lone person, a boy sitting cross-legged on a table shoved into the corner of the room. 

How had he missed him? If the games had taught him one thing, it was to always be vigilant of his surroundings, and yet he’d completely missed the teen.

He couldn’t be older than 16, his short stature and thin frame making him look even younger. The dark, tight-fitting clothes he’d noticed on the adult population of Six suggested he might be older.

“Technically, I’m not here, or at least I’m not supposed to be,” he said, sporting a wide smile, sliding off the table effortlessly. It was an odd way to put it, that he wasn’t supposed to be there.

He doubted anyone was supposed to be in an empty room on the third floor of the Hall of Justice, but they’d both found their way inside. Although the way he seemed to shift on the balls of his feet suggested he was prepared to make a break for it at any moment. “Did you break into the Hall of Justice?”

The boy snorted, smothering his laughter with his hand. “Hardly, I’m just ‘not invited’ to the festivities.”

He didn’t need the festivities spelled out to him, the night had been carefully laid out to him. All he had to get through was a dinner, fumble his way through awkward conversations, and laugh at any off-colour jokes. “But you’re invited into the building?”

“Something like that,” The teen said, holding his hand out as he stopped in front of him. “I’m Tim.”

“Oh, ah- Jason.” He said, taking the other’s hand gingerly, back still pressed against the door. 

Tim’s smile only grew, dropping the hand just as suddenly as he’d held it out. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being tested, like he was back in the Capitol, in the training facility with everyone waiting to see what his weaknesses might be. “Did you come up here to hide, or are you lost?”

“Bit of both.” He wasn’t lost, not really; there were only so many hallways he could walk down, and how many flights of stairs could one building have?

If he made it outside, then he’d be perfectly capable of getting back to the front entrance.

The only problem was making it outside without breaking through a window.

“I get it, Six is big,” Tim said with a nod, slowly walking back towards the table he’d been sitting on. “Do you want me to leave?”

The way the other moved back to the table suggested he didn’t want to leave, almost as though he was asking for the sake of asking. “You were here first,” he mumbled, following a few steps behind.

“True, but I know my way around.” Tim turned, flashing him a grin as he reached the table.

 Jason knew it could just as easily be because the other wanted him to leave. An odd but polite way to try and make him leave. “You don’t mind if I stay in here?”

“Nah, the mayor might, but I’ll talk him around if he gets mad.”

“You have sway with the mayor?

The boy laughed again, nodding slowly. “I’ve been told nepotism is a wonderful tool.”

Nepotism? He’d definitely heard it thrown around about the merchant class in Eight, his teachers even saying they resented that they had to do a few hours in the garment-making factories each night while Chiffon Mullin got to parade around the district flirting with every young Peacekeeper that crossed her path, despite her failing grades. All because her father was one of the district’s herbalists, who had managed to come to an agreement with the Capitol to treat any ailment the Peacekeepers might come down with.

If Tim was able to benefit from nepotism, or at least make his way into the Hall of Justice without any risk of consequence, then either his parents worked in there or- “Is the mayor your father?”

“He’s my grandfather, although between you and me, he likes my mother far more than his son.” So District Six’s mayor had an adult son, one he hadn’t shown any interest in passing the title on to.

It was never guaranteed that the child of officials would take over, but if it was anything like Eight, it was all but a certainty when the old mayor retired, one of his children would fulfil the role. Although considering Tim’s statement, perhaps he’d recommend his daughter-in-law to take up the mantle.

“Doesn’t everyone prefer mothers?” He certainly had, despite Catherine’s health issues; she’d always been so loving, had made sure he was taken care of no matter what, even on the days she’d forced herself to keep her hands wrapped due to the pain and damage to her skin from the dye factory.

She’d tried so hard to hide her pain, while Willis made it as loud as humanly possible and left a path of destruction wherever he went. Remarkably, his execution had made Jason’s life far more comfortable, despite being forced into an overcrowded boys' home.

“I’m sure there’s some that don’t. My dad’s fine, my mum is just… everyone adores her these days.” The other rolled his eyes to punctuate his final statement, the goofy smile fading.

Tim somehow managed to look even younger, without the smile, his bright blue eyes staring into space as his lips moved despite no sound coming out.

He had something to say, that much was obvious, even if the other seemed to be questioning whether he could come out and say it. The small amount of self-restraint seemed to be eating him up inside. “If you want to ask something, go ahead.

“Did you die? In your games, it seemed like you did, when it was played live, but when they replayed it, you didn’t collapse in the same way.”

“I…” The noise came out before he had the chance to even consider a response. What kind of a question was that? Anything he might have guessed the other was debating on asking, it wasn’t close to that.

He sooner, would have expected the other to ask about Aggie, Six was the largest district by far, but it was possible they went to school together. They so easily could have been classmates. 

“I’m so sorry, that was so rude. You don’t have to answer, I never should have said it.” Tim rushed to get the words out, looking just as bit as sorry as he sounded.

It was a foolish question.

One that he’d asked himself in the immediate aftermath of his games.

But no one had dared to confirm or deny it.

“No, it’s okay. I just don’t know,” he said softly. It would make sense if he had.

Delphine had managed to turn a shard of flint into a weapon, stabbing it into his thigh as he’d crushed her windpipe, presumably hoping it would give Lyall a chance at victory in her final moments.

Their fight had been the true finale of the games, Lyall far too injured to put up a real fight after Jason had bludgeoned him with a rock. He’d had to wound the District 4 boy first, after observing how they’d managed to take out the rest of the career pack, it was crucial to neutralise him, to make sure he couldn’t catch him in the handwoven net while Delphine made the killing blow.

It had worked, allowed him to best her in hand-to-hand combat, even if he’d thought he was going to bleed out before he managed to hit Lyall over the head again. “I thought I was going to, and Reed kinda acts like I’m a mutt, so maybe.”

“Anything to have a Victor,” Tim sighed, shaking his head. The statement more unusual than the original question. If he had died, it would have made more sense to save him in the moment. The damage to Lyall's skull made him suspect that he’d never be the same again if he lived. “Would be pretty interesting if it turns out you’re now immortal.”

“If they really could have chosen, I think they would have had Delphine win.” It had been years since they’d last had a female Victor, and in the parties following his victory, he’d been so sure that some of the Capitol citizens looked at him with scorn.

Dissatisfied that yet again a male tribute had managed to overpower and kill a female favourite right at the end. Vicki Vale’s final piece of commentary, as he’d ambushed the,m had rung through his ears in his weeks at the Capitol, ‘four plus four meets eight’.

She’d thought she was so clever coming up with that, while Jason had blinked back the tears that welled after having to watch Aggie’s death.

They’d gotten a Victor, but it wasn’t the one they’d wanted.

The other pursed his lips as Jason looked at him, his face giving away far more than Jason was sure he was willing to. He couldn’t be sure, maybe it was that Tim didn’t agree that they would have chosen Delphine or that he didn’t agree with the Capitol’s sentiment, but one way or another, he wasn’t pleased with the comment.

“Give me your hand,” Tim eventually said, holding his hand out expectantly. “We have a tradition of palm reading in Six, maybe, I can tell you something about your future.”

Palm reading, he couldn’t say he’d heard of it before, not that fortune telling wasn’t practised in Eight, his mother had sought out a few before she’d died. Going so far as to declare that she’d known he’d be born a boy because a woman she was working with had put her wedding ring on a necklace and held it over her bump.

It had seemed like silly superstition to Jason growing up, a way to ignore the pain rather than fighting through your problems, but he’d learnt from spending the past five years in the boys' home that the fight was far more practical.

Still, he offered up his hand, Tim’s delicate fingers tracing along every line, brushing against the callouses that had developed over the years, tipping it up and down, frowning as it caught the light from different angles.

Minutes passed, the other frowning as he brought the hand closer to his face. “That bad, huh?” If Jason were to guess, he was sure the other was bound to tell him that he should have died already. That he should have come back from the games in a wooden box.

Tim slowly released his hand, rubbing the back of his neck, looking every bit as serious as before. “No, I just don't know how to read palms,” Tim said, the statement punctuated by a fit of laughter.

It was infectious, Jason finding himself laughing along with Tim, only laughing harder when he caught Tim’s eye.

For the first time since his name was plucked from the reaping bowl by Lavinia, he found himself feeling like a person, not just a doll the Capitol intended to play with until they were bored of him.

Tim didn’t look at him like he was one of the toys made out of scraps from the factories that the children of Eight played with, something to be tossed in the dirt and kicked about under the condition of love. “You know you’re-”

He was cut off by the door bursting open, Janet closing the door behind her with the same force. “Tim, sweetie, I tried talking to your grandfather, and he was- oh, apologies, Jason.” She sounded tired, as though she was just as sick of the tour as he was, even though the perfectly practised smile returned the moment she spotted him. “I just need to speak with my son for a moment, Tim.”

She nodded her head to the door, earning a soft groan from Tim as he slipped off the desk. “If it’s about dinner, he already told me there’s no seat for me, and that he’s serious this time.”

“He says he’s serious every year,” she sighed, shaking her head. “You’ll be fine, and I’ll make sure you’re fed. Now come with me, just for a few minutes.”

“Sorry,” Tim murmured, offering a tight smile as he followed his mother, the door closing far softer this time.

Jason took Tim’s seat on the table, bringing his knees to his chest. It had been nice while it lasted, even if Janet had demanded the boy's attention. He hadn’t expected to find a private moment off the train while on the Victory Tour, let alone someone he enjoyed the company of.

Seven had been far too chaotic for his taste, and Ten had only been memorable due to Clark’s golden boy mask slipping early in the evening, showing off just how resentful he was towards the Capitol citizens after a brief conversation with Astrid.

He just had to get through the rest of the tour. He’d be in the home stretch once they left Four; the hard part would be over. He’d hardly had any contact with the tributes from Districts One, Two and Three. Delphine and Lyall had worked their way through the other Careers before a true pack could even form.

It had given the rest of them some breathing room until the mutts came after them, with Paisley from his district practically being decapitated by the hairless wolf-like creatures that had torn her limb from limb while leaving him and the rest of their patchwork alliance be.

The mutts had picked people off one by one, separating them just like Delphine and Lyall did, almost impossible to fight off due to the lack of weapons provided in the arena. He found out, watching the edited replay of the games, that Delphine had only ended up with the flint due to a sponsor gift.

The girl decided to use it as a weapon rather than for its intended purpose. He couldn’t say he blamed her on that part; anything that didn’t require brute force to kill was a miracle in the arena.

Jason lifted his head as the door opened again, with Tim creating just enough of a gap to slip through before shutting it again. “I’m not bothering you, am I? I get that you came up here to be alone.”

“No, I… I didn’t realise you were Janet’s kid.” He’d wanted to be alone, but the company Tim had provided was far superior, kept his mind off the tour, stopped him from dipping a foot back into the arena, stopped him from trying to figure out how he could have saved any of his allies from their inevitable deaths.

“Yeah, she’s not normally his tense,” he sighed, sitting on the table again.

Of all the Victors he’d met, Janet was the furthest from being able to be called tense; she’d put on a show just as anyone would with a guest, but she’d done her best to make him feel comfortable. “I thought she was very accommodating, some of the other districts… they’re a lot more intense.”

“You’re talking about Seven?”

“You’ve heard stories?” He shouldn’t be surprised if Tim had been present for other ceremonies for the Victory Tour in Six, then it was possible the other Victors had talked about it. With the way Dick had acted, practically throwing it in Barbara’s face that he had the Capitol citizens eating out of the palm of his hand every moment.

Perhaps other Victors had an easier time with their mentors and felt like they could talk freely about the scenes in Seven.

“I’ve never talked to another Victor, but I have listened in on a few conversations. Sounds like it’s a lot of fun, if you’re from the Capitol.”

Jason hummed softly, the Capitol citizens had definitely enjoyed the party Dick put on, and he could see moments when Sable and Reed enjoyed themselves, even if it took several bottles of wine for them to get to that point. “It’s fun until it isn’t. Maybe it was first-time nerves.”

He hoped it was the first and only time, even if it would be for the good of Eight, to coach another teen through the Victory Tour sounded like a horrifying experience. Reed left most of the work to Sable, and she still put plenty of the work on Lavinia, who knew better than anyone how to handle the tour.

If he had to be a mentor, he didn’t want to be so repulsed by their victory that he couldn’t aid them further.

“Fun, or it’s such a shitshow that it loops back around to being fun after being depressing for a few hours,” Tim spoke like he knew, like he was in his head rather than just a witness to his mother’s experience. Janet seemed so much more put together than the other Victors, didn’t have any of the obvious signs of self-medicating like the others seemed to.

“You don’t hold back on your opinions, do you?” He chuckled, weakly trying to convince himself the conversation wasn’t verging on taking a dark turn.

Tim laughed in turn, leaning forward, his chin resting on Jason’s knee. “I’m holding back in a myriad of ways.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, with Tim straightening just as quickly as he’d leaned forward, now with a book in hand. “Worried you’ll offend?”

“No, just… let me show you,” Tim said, flipping through the book until it landed on a page of pencil sketches of train cars, followed by a series of mathematical equations and notes.

“What is it?”

If it were just the sketches, he would have thought Tim might have thought himself to be something of an artist. Plenty of Victors chose it as their talent, so why wouldn’t the child of a Victor think they could too? But coupled with the equations that looked far more complicated than ordinary homework.

They’d done plenty of math in his schooling to utilise in the factories, however, he couldn’t say they’d done any so complex. Six did manufacture the country’s transportation vehicles, but he wouldn’t have thought shaping steel would require such equations.

“It started as a train that could run on magnets. Six is so big, and we need a faster way to get around the hubs than the trucks, but the first two miniature designs exploded… It was only a small explosion, a little grass fire, but it was handled. Peacekeepers didn’t even notice.” Tim spoke quickly, a faint flush spreading across his cheeks as he tried to explain away the fire.

As though Jason might consider reporting him for experimenting. “How did you come up with this?” He asked, taking the book from Tim’s hands, flipping between the pages, neat handwriting describing various metals and their reactions.

“I didn’t, I mean, not really. There are a bunch of books here, and there was one from forever ago that went into great detail about the train, and I kind of thought, well, why can’t we figure out how to do it again? The Capitol has hovercrafts, so how hard could it be?” The flush didn’t fade as Tim spoke; if anything, it only grew, the younger teen sporting an excited smile, pointing to a few details on the sketches.

“But it exploded?” Jason chuckled, meeting the other’s eyes, feeling his own cheeks heat up.

“Yeah, turns out it’s really hard.” Tim’s loud laughter filled the room, taking the notebook from Jason’s hands only to hide his face in it. “It didn’t derail off the model track, which was a success for the first goal, but it overheated and then… boom.”

“Is that your goal, to invent something?”

Tim lifted his head, his eyes peaking just above the top of the book, skin wrinkling at the corners, the signs of his grin just as bright without seeing his mouth. “I don’t want to be remembered as nothing more than Janet Drake’s shadow.”

“Her shadow?” Jason tipped his head to the side, he couldn’t say he’d seen any signs of his following Janet around.

Although he supposed being in the Hall of Justice in the first place when he wasn’t invited to any of the ceremonial activities might have classified. “Being a Victor’s kid is weird, I have the luxury to dream, but somehow I’ve never truly been district. It’s an odd divide.” Jason nodded slowly, he hadn’t seen that in Eight. Reed's twin daughters had been relatively anonymous in school, quietly attending classes two years above him.

It had only been when one had gotten into some trouble with a district boy that the Peacekeepers had given a more lenient punishment to the girl. There hadn’t even been whispers that she’d gotten off because of her father’s victory.

Perhaps Tim, being born in the Capitol, had created the divide; he didn’t exactly have a point of reference of how other Victor’s children were treated. “So long as my ideas only blow up in Victor’s Village, I’ll go unpunished,” The boy sighed, setting the book down in his lap as his smile faded.

The conversation turning back to the train was a welcome diversion; Jason could talk about it without allowing himself to think about the sad truth of both of their realities. “So are you going to attempt a third design?”

“Maybe, I’ve got to find the right metal to use first.”

“A less explosive one?” Jason said, unable to hold back his laughter, Tim joining him, scooting just that little bit closer, their legs bumping together.

“Exactly,” Tim giggled, shaking his head.

He looked so much like Janet, except for the dark hair, which made the other’s eyes even brighter. They really did manage to give away what Tim was feeling, even if the other was trying to hide it.

Jason didn’t have to guess, and that was why he didn’t hesitate to take Tim’s hand, gently running his thumb across his knuckles. The other’s fingers crept across the top of his hand to tighten the hold.

It was dangerous to let himself get close to someone from another district. The president certainly wouldn’t approve, and that could lead to consequences if anyone were ever to find out.

So long as there were none of the Capitol’s cameras, no one would know if he-

Tim dropped the hand quickly as the door slammed open, Lavinia fanning herself in the doorway. “Oh, Jason, there you are! Come, come, we need to get you ready for tonight’s festivities.” 

Jason sighed, sluggishly moving off the desk, walking into Lavinia’s expectant arms.

**********

The night progressed rather slowly, listening to speeches that seemed to have been written years before he was born. By the time they all sat down for dinner, Jason’s stomach was growling.

It was nothing like the hunger he’d felt in the games, and he couldn’t help cursing himself when it rumbled in the middle of the Mayor’s toast.

However, once the dishes were placed in the centre of the table, his appetite vanished. Several dishes wobbled as they were set down, managing to hold their form. The mayor and Janet both served themselves, taking pieces from several different dishes.

“You look confused,” Janet whispered as she handed him the serving spoon, directing him to take from one of the wobbling moulds.

Jason frowned, scooping out a small slice, just enough to not look rude. “I am, what is it?” He asked, placing the spoon down.

He did not want to eat it, didn’t want to eat most of the foods on the table. Even the vegetables were covered in a sauce or mixed in with other foods. “We call it head cheese, it’s an aspic.”

“Do not eat it,” Reed said from across the table, the first real direction he’d given him since the tour had started.

Jason laughed, pushing a small amount onto his fork. “It’s not like I’m going to- oh wow, it’s something.” The moment the gelatinous substance hit his tongue, he couldn’t help gagging, the meaty flavour not matching its texture.

Pressing his lips into a tight line, Jason forced himself to take a sip of the wine in front of him, barely managing to swallow. “You’ve got better manners than some of the other Victors; that Roy Harper boy spat it out onto the table last year.” The Mayor said, earning a chorus of laughter from the table.

“Try this, it’s potato,” Janet said, holding out three moon-shaped dough balls.

Jason tipped them onto the plate, prodding at one with his fork. “It looks like an uncooked pastry.” He’d walked past the bakery in Eight almost every morning, loaves of uncooked bread sitting on counters as they rose. A few of the boys at the home considering stealing some of the uncooked loaves when their portion of tesserae for the month was used up.

“It’s cooked, but it is made with a dough. The potato is the filling,” She said, serving herself some, along with a spoonful of one of the creamy-looking salads. Jason raised an eyebrow, taking a small bite, letting out a pleased hum. “See, not everything at this meal is a trick.”

“Six seems to be full of tricks. Tim played one earlier.” Jason chuckled. Tim’s joking about the palm reading had been to lighten the mood, meanwhile, the food laid out on the table seemed to be a horror show, nothing like the delights of the Capitol.

The mayor's fork fell from his hand, the food bouncing onto the table. “He’s found that damn box of Jack’s again.”

“Oh no, that was destroyed, it may have been kicked into the fireplace last winter. When you say trick, what do you mean?” Janet turned towards him as she asked the question, her eyes trained on him as he swallowed.

“It was completely harmless.”

Janet’s smile grew at the statement, clapping her hands together. “We’ll see about that. Tim, could you come here?” Jason’s eyes quickly scanned the room. Tim suddenly appeared at one of the entrances, wearing a satisfied smile. “And bring a chair with you.”

“Honestly, Janet, you’re as transparent as ever.” The mayor grunted, rolling his eyes as Janet scooted her chair over to make space next to him.

“I’m just making sure my child is well fed.”

Tim let out a laugh, taking a seat, grinning as Janet handed him the plate she’d hidden under her own. “You could have invited Dad, had the whole family over for dinner.” Out of the corner of his eye, Jason could see Sable laughing behind her hand, a few others at the table sharing amused glances at the small family squabble.

“You’re not even going to ask him what he did, are you?”

“What would be the point in that? I achieved my goals.” Janet chuckled, pinching Tim’s cheek.

The chatter around the table resumed, with Jason picking at whatever food looked safest, managing to find a second dish that could satisfy him. “Did she let you in on it?” Tim whispered, tapping his foot.

Jason glanced at the other, biting his lip at seeing Tim’s small smile. “No… I don’t even know if I can follow what just happened.

Tim laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t worry, it happens every year.”

**********

The winter breeze was far more severe on the train platform than it had been on the stage in front of the Hall of Justice. Jason hugged his coat around him, exchanging farewells with the District Six officials.

By late afternoon, they’d be in Five, meeting a new set of officials and Victors. “Did you enjoy your time here?” Tim asked, stepping out from behind a set of boxes stacked up on the platform, the mayor clicking his tongue at his grandson’s sudden appearance.

Jason smiled, stepping away from the group. “I enjoyed meeting you, the tour is just…” He frowned. There was no right way to put it, not with Peacekeepers and his prep team hovering. “It’s a lot, and there’s so much more to go.”

Tim laughed, taking a step back behind the boxes. “Just think, aside from the Victors, you’ll never have to see any of these people again.”

If Jason was being honest, the other victors were half the problem. None of the district officials had been particularly warm to him, but they hadn’t created any of the chaos either. The cold attitudes were far more bearable than the fake personas or the obvious resentment they felt towards him.

The only thing worse than the other Victors had been seeing the families of his fellow tributes. “You do know that includes yourself?” He chuckled, letting himself step within touching distance now that they were shielded from view.

“Maybe, perhaps my train will be such a revelation that the President will allow me to travel across the country to help set up inter-district train lines,” Tim said, pulling the sleeves of his coat over his hands, the boxes offering a small amount of protection from the wind. “From what I’ve heard, District Eight is also quite large.”

The cold wind suddenly felt like a blessing in disguise, providing a cover for the way his cheeks heated up. “You’ll always have a friend in Eight.”

He couldn’t be reading this wrong; he’d gotten similar attention in school from guys and girls alike, and Tim was almost more direct with the light touches, entering into his space without hesitation.

Jason knew it was equally possible that Tim was just overly affectionate, didn’t have the same hesitation most people did. “I could write to you, if you’d like,” Tim whispered, slowly rocking from one foot to the other.

“How would that work?” All Jason wanted to do was say yes, to invite a seemingly outlandish idea in. They couldn’t send communication between the districts, especially not those that had industries that invited a small amount of collaboration.

If he were from Five or even Three, it might be possible to find a way to write to one another, but Eight offered nothing of use to Six; they didn’t even make the upholstery for the Peacekeepers' trucks.

Except judging by Tim’s smile, he had it all figured out. “When you go to the games, I could give them to my mum, and she can hand them over to you. She’s always said that Victors end up with a lot of downtime.”

Downtime to read letters and to write a response. Only for Janet to hand it back to Tim at the end of each year’s games. A romantic idea that anyone in the Capitol would adore if they ever caught wind of it.

Not that they’d care much for it if Jason was involved. “I’d like that,” he whispered, eyes widening as Tim pressed a kiss to his cheek.

The shorter teen stood on his toes, resting a hand on Jason’s forearm to brace himself. Keeping himself close enough that all Jason had to do was turn his head if he wanted something more.

The bright blue eyes stared at him, looking so hopeful despite the fact that they were barely concealed on a train platform.

Jason turned his head just enough that their lips brushed together, jerking back at the sound of Sable clearing her throat. “Get on the train before they start pointing those guns at us,” she grunted.

“Okay…” He said over his shoulder, Tim’s hand not leaving his forearm. There was never any alone time on this tour, even if a train platform wasn’t the best moment for any of this. “Until your grand tour,” Jason whispered, kissing Tim on the cheek before taking a step back and turning towards the train.

He only had to wait six months to hear from Tim again, even if it was only going to be in the form of a letter, it was something nice to take away from the tour.

[achillesisnotcomingdown]

I finished ToA not long ago and I wanted to write down some thoughts/scenes that stick with me

(in chronological (ish) order, watch out for spoilers)

Theres an italian girl at camp ! It means Nico gets to practice and speak italian ! (which probably haven't happened in about 70 years)

Will introducing Nico as "my boyfriend". I already knew they would be canon, but reading that line felt weird /pos

Apollo sees Solangelo and think of himself and Hyacinth

That night when Kayla and Austin disappeared and Apollo left to look for them, it probably was the first night Will ever spent alone in his cabin

Apollo's insane body dysmorphia. He's a god, he can always take the physical form he is the most comfortable and confident in... Until now. He is stuck in a body that isn't his, he feels ashamed, when he sees certain traits in others he find them charming or pretty, but when it's on him then it's disgusting. He complain that everything is this body's fault (ex. he wouldn't have been touched by the Eurynomos if it wasn't for his chub.)(I could go on for hours)

Lityerses ! I love that guy. Idk why i love him that much. He is my best guy.

Apollo's reaction to Commodus' name. His flashback of him. So painful he was physically sick.

Apollo talking Helios out of killing them, because he just want to be free, not to hurt them.

APOLLO ATTEMPT TO KHS TO STOP THEM ?? IM A SUCKER FOR SOME GOOD PAINFUL SELF SACRIFICE.

Jason. I'm not talking about Jason. I can't speak about Jason.

Frank and Apollo ! They are so fond of each other !!!

Apollo heard all of Frank's prayers when he was unclaimed and wished he could've adopted him.

And Frank respecting Apollo as a god although he is *vaguely gesture at Apollo/Lester*

Reyna saying aloud that she doesn't want nor needs romance. It's so rare to see aromantic representation and Rick did it so well.

Literally Apollo singing his way out of situations.

FRANK'S SELF SACRIFICE!!! (He already had one of my favorite character development before that)

APOLLO KILLING COMMODUS ??? why do never talk about that it's one of the best deaths I've ever seen that was BADASS AND FULL OF EMOTIONS.

Apollo slowly dying out of poison and the Dodona Arrow doing everything it can to keep him conscious.

I hope Dakota didn't get killed off just to give Lavinia the role of Centurion. I love my boy Dakota, and his death felt kind of meaningless, except for her rank up :/ also i feel like it doesn't suit Lavinia. Some ppl are strong and good and trustable but just not made to order others. (ill prop make a full post about that)

Dionysos confirmed to be an annoying little brother!

Nico. How does Rick manage to always give him more issues. Leave the kid alone.

When Will glows, Apollo is genuinely impressed and tells him how proud he is.

Nico destroying Nero's door with his giant zombie bull. That was cool.

When Apollo gets stabbed in Nero's tower and think it's the end, he prays "Zeus, Artemis, Leto, anyone"

And in general the few parts he talks about Leto, he's such a momma's boy and I love it.

When Apollo left for Delphi... I was fully expecting Meg to go with him. I was so worried that he went alone while already feeling that weakened from the previous events.

DODONA ARROW. FOREVER IN MY HEART.

Artemis is here when Apollo wakes up. She's by his side, she's the first person to tell him he succeeded, she hold him while he sobs...

The first thing he does is to greet his horses :) and then to see his friends.

When he gets back to the Dodona bush ! To tell them all how brave and heroic the Arrow have been !

I could spend hours talking about the character developments of Apollo, Meg and the Dodona Arrow (i love the arrow so much you have no idea) but its for another day

There's many things I didn't talk about, but the post is already long enough. I love those 5 books, and Apollo is an amazing narrator.

I love the Arrow of Dodona with all my heart.

[windmaedchen-oceanhorn]

Knight of the Dark

Epilogue

This chapter has 1.900 words.

"Hey! I am so sorry for being late. The General... he just didn't want to listen to reason and stop work when he should, so it took me a bit of convincing today."

Valen stopped himself from enthusiastically running into the bar counter and panted for a bit helplessly instead. He had just sprinted all the way from the Heroic Order into the Traveler's Light to make sure he wasn't missing out on this dinner. It's been nearly a month since the incident in the capital and in the last couple of days Lavinia had been around to have a look at Holistone. Today was her last day and he hoped to hear her decision. She looked back at him with a somewhat questioning smile. 
 "Is that so? Or did he try to make you finish your reports from yesterday?"

Valen raised his hands in not so mocked defence, for he had actually been finished in time today.

"All done and dusted an hour ago! I am telling you seriously, sometimes you need to force his well-being onto the General, or else he'd never get it."

Lavinia relented willingly and readjusted her position on the bar stool. "Alright, alright. I do take your word for it. So, first dinner was on you, last one will be on me. What will you have?"

Of course, Valen did consider the possibility that she meant the last dinner during her visit, but he was too curious not to try and get it out of her as soon as possible. 

"What do you mean 'last one'? Are you not coming to join us here? I was really hoping you would..." 

He added a bit of disappointment to his expression for good measure. She reacted with a slight shake of the head.

"No, Valen, not the 'last dinner' ever. I just meant for now. I do have to go back to the capital tomorrow."

Since that didn't work straight away, Valen now leaned onto the counter adopting a more suave look.

"And you'll be back next week, right?"

Lavinia chuckled and again, shook her head. She placed her hands on the counter and thoughtfully moved her fingers over the wood. He could tell that while she clearly did not refuse a transfer to Holistone, there were concerns on her mind that prevented her from being enthusiastic about joining them here. And he completely understood. He did want to help her recover but if she didn't come here, he could not do as much as he would like. That's why he tried to convince her to resume service here in Holistone.

"I've already organised your room, it'll be ready for you in no time."

"Valen..." she sighed.

"The General's got your schedule nearly done, too, and you'll be doing some fantastic patrol shifts with me!", he added as he moved a tad closer.  Since he was not trying to hide his intention anymore, he threw in a compliment as well. 

"Holistone's going to be an even better place with you now than what it became since I got here."

Lavinia inhaled abruptly and then buried her face in her hands with a shaky groan. She quickly turned around to face him, finally nodding her head rather than shaking it.

"Oh, alright. I'll be back. You're insufferable being inquisitive like that."

She suppressed a chuckle and turned away again. Valen ignored her little jab and spread his arms in salvation and sighed thankfully. 

"Ah, it was very well worth my efforts. I can't wait to see you in uniform. Since that would mark the fulfilment of all our dreams, we should make sure to celebrate accordingly. How about we have the General join, too? We could throw an entire evening at the--"

He had to stop talking suddenly because Lavinia's hand covered his lower face for a moment but he continued to chuckle a little.

"Stop it, you are getting way ahead of yourself. I am not even here yet and you already think about the socializing. Besides, I really am not in the mental state at the moment to enjoy all of that the same way you do. You're the only one I can tolerate right now, so please, no party or anything like that."

He knew that. He certainly wasn't unable to read other's emotions and he wouldn't seriously bring her or anyone into a situation they did not appreciate. But he noticed that him treating her a little over the top did do her good, even if she didn't want to admit that.

"I know, I know. Don't worry, I shall not do that. But I might get a nice slice of cake from the bakery to leave on your night table as a welcome gift."

Lavinia gave him a grateful nod and sighed visibly relieved. She accepted that cake so easily, maybe he should throw in a welcome card and some flowers, too? The more distracted she was from her worries, the better. 

When the barmaid ran past them, Valen quickly caught her attention and they managed to make their order. The moment the barmaid was gone again, Lavinia continued to ponder.

"I think I am ready for whatever awaits me here, but I do wonder one thing: how does the General cope with you and your mouth?" Lavinia taunted.

"Very well, I would say. It's been of great use to him, like me convincing you to stay."

He wasn't so easily offended.

"Well, that's--  true, I suppose."

"There, you see? And it not only worked, but you like it, too."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah, you do."

Lavinia chuckled in defeat and ran her hand through her hair to collect herself.

"Gah! Maybe a little. I am hungry, hope food's coming soon!"

"Agreed! That's our second dinner and according to my inner 'guide to being a gentleman' that's gotta be on me."

Lavinia raised her finger at him and gave him a wink. 

"Too late, I already made a payment in advance. Since I have an inkling that we might be enjoying after-work dinners together regularly from now on, I decided to settle my debt before you can object."

"Ah, it'll be a double slice of cake for you then."

Valen answered easily. She would never get away from being spoiled a little bit. He just loved riling her up a little as much now as he thought it was funny back then.

"Safe your money to spoil the right people."

"You are a right person. In fact, I have missed out on the last 10 years of spoiling to do, so I gotta catch up."

Lavinia buried her face in her hands once more, chuckling in despair.

"Ugh, what shall I do with you? Please tell me you don't intend on showering me with your ... err, comments on duty as well? I will be forced to give you the cold shoulder, you know that."

"Yes, but as long as I can see you smile about it, I will do so. It amuses you, so you can surely give me that much credit? Hm?"

Lavinia clearly couldn't help the broad smile on her lips, even though she tried hard to compose herself. 

"Yeah. You're good at that, I suppose. I would have kicked you in the legs and ran away a long time ago if I didn't find your presence amusing, trust me. I don't think I can forget the darkness so quickly, but with you around at least I have plenty of distraction."

Valen was pleased to hear it. He leaned forward and wiggled his eyebrows as he had one more thing to say.

"You will have much more distraction from the rest of the guys than from me, I can tell you that. But no worries, I will keep you updated about the various bets going on in the background of who'll woo you first."

Lavinia threw her hands over her face in playful agony and moaned.

"Oh by Dura's name. I have neither time nor mind for such things right now. If this wasn't preferable over ... whatever else I would do... I would not do it."

She sighed again, shielding her eyes with her hand once more. Then she turned around to Valen and her sudden sly expression surprised him.

"To make this a fair game, I should let you know that a list of suitable partners for you has been created and approved by your colleagues as well. How about the two of us get some bets going on who's settled first? 

"Ha!"

Now it was her turn to make him chuckle and sweat in despair. He knew very well that she wasn't that serious, as neither was he, but topics about serious romance that included him were just a tad uncomfortable, still. Time to change the subject.

"Speaking about settling down... do send me a message before you arrive next week. Your room is sorted, I was serious about that. I can come round with another pair of strong hands if you have anything heavy to carry."

"Oh, that with the room works out?" Lavinia became serious in an instant. "Then, yes, I shall make sure to send you a message. I won't have much to bring, though, so I don't think I need any help."

Thankfully Lavinia did not insist on the previous topic and drinks arriving just at the same time, helped to divert the attention away from the teasing. After Valen bantered for a moment with Lavinia about the split percentage of future dinners, they moved on to a more relaxed conversation for the rest of the evening until it was time to part.

As he wasn't going to see her the next day to say goodbye, he decided to pull Lavinia into a hug when they stood outside the tavern. He knew that she'd probably resist because such tender gestures always provoked her tough and invulnerable side. But his agenda was to force her well-being onto her as much as the General's onto him, so when she did try to wiggle herself out of his embrace, he just squeezed her even tighter.

"Urgh, Va-len, pleeease."

"Alright, alright, lass. Now, do give my regards to your mother and stay out of trouble until next week, okay?"

When he finally let her go, her flustered reaction produced a big grin on his face. She sighed and adopted a defensive stance when she responded as if to warn him of her planned resistance in future events like that.

"Will do. Now, get some rest, you're on duty tomorrow."

"Hey, I always sleep like a baby, no need to worry. Take care, Lavi, and see you soon!"

"Yeah, see you soon."

Lavinia lifted her hand for a faint wave and after a thankful smile, she turned around to walk to her guesthouse. Valen began to move in the opposite direction towards his flat, but he did look back on occasion to see her disappear behind a street corner.

He felt glad that they had met once more and that their goodbyes were now within their control. He wasn't afraid to never see her again this time. In fact, they would be seeing a whole lot of each other and he couldn't wait for next week to come. Valen wasn't too sure what to expect from the future but one thing he was certain about: Lavinia was going to be serious competition and he had to make sure he was ready to be a worthy match for her.

[yohohonabottle]

"Whoops! Wrong universe!" -Draft/'spitball'

Like with the previous post, this is more of a quickpost where I throw in my thoughts! May most likely flesh it out later into an actual oneshot fic. However I may need more info on Lavi so I can do her proper justice! Comments are welcomed and encouraged both on this + that future post! (As always) |> Prompt: Temporarily swaps universes with.... Lavinia @windmaedchen The wheel has spoketh once more, which is a funny turn of events since yesterday it said that Pirin adopted Lavi... And now they swap universes. ----------------------------------------------------

I'm going to outline two routes this could occur: 1) Literally. Pirin's universe is now Lavi's (temporarily) and vice versa. 2) 'Seats' - Pirin finds himself in Lavi's universe, in her place & vice versa.

In case A,

then Lavi will suddenly find herself as...basically the technical administrator/overseer of that universe. With Pirin's powers (see my Paragon lore post) but without the negatives because she's not an Esperia 'Actor*' (*Actor = Character)...or isn't somehow clocked in as one, more like a Moon* (*Moon = Character that holds little to no significant influence on the world and its functions compared to the Sun* of it.) so she can do whatever she wants, really. Explore? Yup. Observe from the sidelines? Mhm. Monitor and oversee it? Absolutely. Or go back home.

Dame Lavinia will also, most likely encounter my lore in the form of Valen noting she's not from around here. And that would lead him to filling her in on the Meta premise that's intrinsically interwoven into this universe...if not practically laden at its very core. Which would inevitably lead to the knight mentioning his Dove (Pirin) and the whole-- —"So we have this race...more like had, it's a really long history, trust me and it's a whole 'nother beast-- That are immortal wandering spirits. Also endlessly go through death-rebirth. Again, very heavily simplifying here, but this is preetty much the gist of it."

Aand that's how Lavi comes to know of my bat boye + his role within this universe outside of being Merlin & how he became 'Merlin'. Poor gal will also discover that this Valen... isn't her Valen. Her (future hubby, I'm guessing?) man, nor has feelings for her outside of platonic strictly and empty teasing flirting...which really is just him being playful and means nothing. But definitely makes sure she's okay!/Looks out for her, as he looks out for his friends and teammates! Also helps her understand things better and most likely 99% of the time uses analogies/explanations that Pirin has given....otherwise he'd just end up muddling the waters and confused poor dame soo much more. (His explaining really is like his writing- haphazard in the sense of rushed and jumbled all over the place with little to no structure, plus terms/phrases only he understands for himself. And the bat sort of dumbs it down in a way the other party can understand plus on a 'language' the other person gets. Like how when he was explaining things to Soren, a Mauler who doesn't understand subtle and flowery stuff + nerdy academic 'bs', Pirin basically leveled it to 'caveman unga-bunga' layman's words without being condescending/patronizing.) On top of that Val will make sure to find a way to help Lavi return back home and wish her the best for her, her Valen, and their kiddo. —"Oh and, can you tell that version of me to not put off tasks? Tell him: "It's really not fun having to deal with staggering mountains of paperwork on short-notice crunch. It won't become less boring two days later. Sit down and get it done right away, tidy your desk- And don't procrastinate! Pearl of wisdom from yours truly, smarter self." Thanks, Lavi!" And the rest of that time, however much Lavinia has left being in Pirin's universe, is likely spent just casually hanging out.

You bet Valen would introduce her to his squad-mates of the main team (Soren, Sinbad, Ludovic ....and Berial, unfortunately.), and to DnD! Ludovic or Soren will be the DM of that session/reall short & simple campaign, and the team having fun with Lavi. Plus a way to help integrate into their merry, chaotic lot and relax. Berial is still a brat here, but actually minds his manners, pranks and actions on account of Pirin (his Batman, frenemy). And definitely, awkwardly makes amends for his other self's terribly godawful misconduct to Lavi as best he can...or at least tries to anyways. Ironically Lavinia's story/past/experiences* remind him sooo much of his Batman, that he accidentally gets wee protective over her.

*(In this universe both Celestials and Hypogeans can sense a person's + other Cel/Hypo's inner stuff, without even prying. Thoughts, feelings, intents, hopes, fears, pains, desires from most superficial and trivial to deepest and most secretly coveted, dreams and fears, vague snippets of memories, etc. Plus hear and see those things, again, without delving deliberately in others' heads and hearts. It's just how they naturally are. However if Berial -since he's in here, I'll use him as example- actively focuses on her memories like zooming in on a gif thumbnail, or any of the other things, THEN he'd be actually prying and invading.) Which he doesn't, but just those glimpses are enough for the Jester.

At some point Berial might actually level with Lavi, serious talk without clown nonsense, and remark that. Sounds offhanded, but is more.. reminiscing, pensive. No malice in any form, which I can see shocking Lavi a lot. This version of the disgusting terrible and sadistic evil menace of clown. (Likely after their group round(s) of DnD and other games like Century Quest, card duels, Genius Invocation TCG -no you can't escape it here either. Someone happened to sneak that card game into AFKJ- Non hazard Black-Jack, and others including Never have I ever.) It's like a whiplash-- this civil, amicable Berial who is still a nuisance most of the time but knows when to get serious; and does, ditching the bravado even if for just a brief moment. The Hypogean isn't a saint nor hero, obviously, and isn't trying or pretending and claiming to be either. But he's got his moments of... helpfulness. Not evil bastard 10000% of the time. —"....You know, I'll be truthful and level with you for a moment. You remind me of Vanyusha, a lot, actually." Pause of contemplation, lost in his own thoughts, mutters ''I wonder what trouble he's gotten dragged into this time.. ....hm. Put a pin on this. I'll dig into it later." And then turn back her with his signature wide grin.. except it has an air of fondness, amusement to it. His tone is oddly serene almost as he notes to her-

—"You two will get along just fine by the way. Don't be surprised if he takes one glance at you and get like a mother hen, heheh.

We actually have an inside joke in the team, running gag, that Pirin is the Mather all across the board. From cradling the world itself, its people-- To his mish-mash of teammates." Maybe sensed/senses Lavi's confusion or other inner things that prompt him to share some of his own memories of this bat. How he came to Favor/Respect him (Clown's reminiscing moment, where he pranked Merlin), how that man shoved him right into his place (without being graphic or long-winded), all stories kept simple and brief. Plus sort of very quickly note this tid-bit about the nature of Celestials, gods and Hypogeans, with the reassurance that no, he will not delve in her inner working unless strictly given the green-light. A way of letting Lavi know she's got control and agency by calling the shots.

Plus, after that somber talk, throw in a bit humor/silly jokes to lighten the mood. --Meanwhile on the other end of scenario A--

And Pirin, in Lavi's universe, is just an Actor. Or heck! Just...Pirin, nothing more, nothing less.

Doesn't have his Moon status as it's not his to oversee. And likely this Esperia doesn't have a Sun and Moon, nor the concepts of it. No Meta-knowledge, 4th wall breaks, not a whiff of Multiverse antics (this could very easily be played off/explained as Reinier being at his symmetry tomfoolery again like he was with Talene and Dura's + Misarte's statues. Or hell! Even Merlin being a petty lil shaite again or spell goes wrong--Anything, go wild!), just....This world, it's established structures and lore, inhabitants, and Merlin. Like being in-game, closely follows cannon. Lavinia and her being a knight, plus her relations in this world is just standard stuff.

Like how we Players don't bat an eye much to the NPC's lives./ The lives of NPC's aren't so often pulled to the very fore front and center like with playable characters, even if they're involved in the quest. For example, in the questline -- Brineville had its moments of shining more than the rest of the world...But the focus and emphasis was still very obviously on the main cast of the season plotline and their antics, Merlin doesn't need mentioning as it's a given. -> (Finch's assumptions here! Very heavy speculations! I could be wrong!) <-

But everything's so alien to him, even if it technically is the same. (Like how twins look strikingly similar, possibly even sound so- But aren't the same person. The subtleties or apparent signs are there.) So I see him be wary and thread cautiously, trying to avoid running into anyone in fear of causing damage as an anomaly -something that's not supposed to be there. Doesn't belong here.

(Vanya can still, however, call upon his Sun.)

For once, Pirin can just... exist and be whatever. No history outside the established Immortal and Divine wars. He's just an eccentrically dressed, odd Wilder/Mauler guy who could be half-Lightbearer for all people care. And Pirin inevitably runs into Lavinia's Valen, who's just worried-sick and frantic in searching high and low for her.

And because this 'tiny' man is a sweetheart (His quote from Bear's sin sums him up best: 'I don't want anyone to suffer in the ways I have.'), he'll cave in and break his own 'rules' for this ''trip''. The 'don't interfere, affect this universe.' rule. Goes up to Valen, and after a very short-simple introduction of himself, tells the man of what happened.

"I'm not sure if Reinier is behind this, or whose spell went haywire...or if Merlin, my Boss in that realm, messed up something.. But I'm sure that your maiden is safe and well." (A little hurt that Valen doesn't seem to know, recognize, him at first nor sees that twinkle in his lilac eyes he knows... but notes to himself that this is a different Esperia, and this Valen is not his Noble Knight.) Cue a very quick lightning round of explaining some parts of time and space nonsense, plus how things are back in his universe.

"With this in mind, I'm starting to suspect either Merlin or my Sun are responsible for the mix-up. My team has likely already gotten on the case and are looking for a way to bring dame Lavinia back home."

...And then Berial of this universe maybe pops up to cause mayhem, spots the new face and instantly tries to torture him in every single way. (Interrupting their swapping of stories of adventures and memories, since Valen got curious about this new other universe parallel to his and Lavi's, and his other self. Plus how that other version of him got together/fell in love with Pirin. Telling him his own sweet tales with Lavi and history.)

Ohoo, how that lil menace got hard shoved right into his place the millisecond Pirin felt that clown dip into his mind & body. Berial just gets to experience a reallly hard Uno reverse card, suddenly faced with utter hell beyond anything he ever thought...and not in a fun way. Nope. (Lavi's Valen is simultaneously terrified, impressed and fascinated by this display.)

Witnessing how the Hypogean flings himself right out asap faster than a lightning, and books it for gods know where so fast that he doesn't even see where he's going. Smacks into a tree or building or something face-first like in a cartoon, and cowers. It's like that scene from Alecchino's boss fight with the Traveler where she stalks toward him, crimson moon behind her, and he's just done for.

"Try this again, or any of your bullshit again. And I will make you wish you were nothing. Разбра ли?" (Got it?) That clown couldn't speak, only pathetically whimper something vaguely like yes. "Изчезвай." (Scram/Get lost.)-- and Berial Bolts.

..Right as a portal opens revealing that other universe with the squad, and Lavinia with them. Perfectly safe, healthy, and unharmed. The Berial of that other universe sees his other self hauling ass and laughs heartily, knowing exactly what happened. "Yup. There he goes, heh. What a retard Ink-stain." Turning back to the two, he does a dramatic salute by taking off his head and a playful wink at the stunned knight. "I'm still myself after all~." And so the two are swapped, returned home in their rightful respective universes with Pirin formally letting Valen and Lavinia know they're welcome to visit his iteration of Esperia anytime they wish. Berial interjecting with "Don't be a shy stranger~! ..Also, if you get troubles from other worlds- Holler us, will ya? We're the-" "That's enough, you Midget." (Berial was about to make a cringe Ghost-busters joke.) One of Pirin's familiars, a firebird rosella, lands on his head. "You can call upon Zhar if needed to deliver a message. He beaks pretty hard as affection, but other than that, the little hooligan shouldn't be causing you headaches." "Too-daloo~!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now! In case B, where the two only swap roles:

-Pirin ends being a Solitaire, since that's Lavi's post. He still retains all his abilities like magical prowess and all the combat experience + knowledge in general he has. Or his 'kit' as I like to refer to them. -Lavinia ends up being Merlin..technically. (In short: Merlin summoned Pirin to Esperia and contracted him to be his stand-in. But this deal is kept secret from everyone else, very few finding out the truth on their own, the rest willfully ignorant/unaware of it.) And has Pirin's 'kit' as if a stage 4 Paragon but without the negative side-effects like I noted earlier.

Ultimately the result in this route of the scenario is the same in case A. The two eventually return/get returned to their own respective universe with a chance mild cross-over and the opportunity to meet again in the future.

[justinw48]

Blog Post 7: Titus Andronicus: An Incredible Live Action

@shakespearesengland

Seeing Titus Andronicus at the Royal Shakespeare Company( With the incredible Sir Simon Russell Beale!) was fucking amazing. Sitting front row, I was completely immersed throughout practically the entire thing. It’s one thing to read Shakespeare’s most brutal play, and another to witness it from so close, where no drop of horror is spared.

At first, I was thrown off by the use of microphones but once I adjusted, I came to love how the microphones enhanced certain moments. It made it feel like we the audience was involved. It even allowed the amazing actors to play with tone and volume in a way that felt modern in my opinion.

I thought it was awesome that we the audience got to be the Roman crowd. Whether it was a cruel act of revenge or a moment of public humiliation, the characters addressed us directly, making us complicit. It was almost unsettling in some points. Especially as the violence escalated. It made me reflect on how easily spectacle and suffering can blur in entertainment, something this play definitely does not shy away from.

What surprised me most was how much I laughed. The play had quite a bit of crazy over the top stuff that’s baked into the horror. Whether it was the over the top violence, or a character’s ironic detachment, the humor kept me a bit on edge if I’m honestly (but in a good way). I never felt totally safe to relax. And maybe that’s the point. In a world where violence is constant, laughter can be a desperate gasp for air at times.

The staging of the aftermaths was unforgettable. Seeing Lavinia, staggering after post r, or even Titus presented with his severed hand and his sons’ heads was pure visual horror. These are images I won’t be forgetting any time soon. (They were kinda gross). Reading or hearing about them is one thing but actually watching it unfold right in front of you forces an almost reckoning type with the play’s relentless brutality.

Even costume design played a quiet role in the play. Most of the Goths wore variations of blue, even starting off with blue jumpsuits while the Romans were in muted greys, a big visual contrast between each other. But it was easy to notice something curious happening, during the scene where Titus loses his hand, he himself wore dark blue. Meanwhile, Saturninus, the emperor, gradually adopted blue and even danced with the empress in blue and had blue face paint on as the play progressed. The colors in my opinion, seem to be suggesting a change in sides or even in power dynamic. perhaps, a visual representation of who is truly in control.

Between scenes, booming, almost primal music shook the room every time. It marked transitions not only in story but in mood, plunging us deeper into like a chaos state. The stagehands and actors moved like beasts during these transitions, snarling and crawling, reinforcing the idea that civilization was breaking apart slowly but surely which was really cool. The line between Roman and Goth, man and monster, became harder and harder to see.

And then comes the infamous and great final dinner! When Titus reveals to Saturninus and Tamora that her sons are in the pie she’s been eating, she doesn’t even recoil she eats more. I freaked out at that. Some I heard laughed. (I nearly gagged.) It was a perfect final punch in a show that never pulled any. It seemed to show that Titus at the end really didn’t get the revenge he wanted, or at least, she refused to fall for it. Seeing it live, there was no looking away. No skipping ahead. Just the slow, horrible realization of what people in this play are capable of when revenge becomes religion.

Seeing Titus Andronicus live made me feel things I really didn’t expect. It wasn’t just gory but incredible and theatrical. I loved it in the best way. It was terrifying, and surprisingly funny. And Sir Simon Russell Beale? Utterly amazing and what an honor to see it. Overall for my first live performance I truly don’t think it could have been any better! Titus Andronicus really is my favorite play!

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

HI IT'S THE ANON HERE SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING!! right now with us finding out more of peeta's past, my mind has been creating more and more headcanons about that. like how peeta and lavinia broke up because she was convinced peeta was actively cheating on her with one of his friends, dev. reminds me of what jackson said "you know, some people mistake friendliness for flirting". and how dev eventually (after the break up obviously, it's peeta) became a fuck buddy of sorts because what the hell, might as well do the thing he was accused of doing. also how the first person he saw himself having a family with was his college boyfriend, and that reflects on when peeta told finnick: "always saw myself maybe adopting (a kid)"

not a headcanon exactly but i like imagining katniss and peeta (FINALLY) buying a decent bed for his (their) room, and picking it together. seriously how has he survived sleeping on an air mattress for months? anyway, katniss' opinion on the mattress they buy is of the most importance to him.

rue 🥹 imagine her and all her witchy siblings. or even rue being the only witch in her family but them being all so supportive. so much potential. here's to hoping she will show up! prim finally finding the friend she's always wanted in rue. my heart.

while also on the prim topic, i just think she has the best outfits ever. we get a glimpse of that from when peeta buys her a skirt but wow. imagine cute little colorful cardigans, chunky mary janes, space buns, converse in all colors, skirts in all colors, or with funky little patterns. WOW.

gale messing with peeta when they first meet, hinting that he and katniss had a thing in the past. because he's just like that. but also as a way to test peeta, checking his reactions, making sure he's respectful and good enough for katniss, like a big brother would.

so much more. SO much more. but i'll leave you with a song i like listening to when i'm in a spellbound mood: you can do magic, by america ✨

These are some choice head canons, Anon! Thank you for returning to share them!!!

❤️ kdnfb

[starredfishing]

Question 0 then!

Who is your OC?

i feel like you have to be the same anon who always enables my fe3h ramblings youre so sweet thank you <3

my fe3h oc is a self insert in like the most literal way like they look exactly how i did when i made them and while theyve sorta branched out theyre very much still a part of me lol so

Lavinia Esther, they/them. they were born in hoshido (im korean and this was the closest i could get, but @/peachiehambo managed to create an ENTIRE country and lore based on korea within fodlans lore which is just damn impressive) but was adopted and grew up in faerghus in a small village outside of fhirdiad. they're short, shy, and terrified of standing out in the wrong way. i gave lavinia my adhd and self-doubt so u can kinda see how this goes lmao poor thing

i dont share a lot abt lavinia bc a majority of it IS self insert mary sue connections w other characters and i feel embarrassed abt it ;; but ill add some vinnie art on this so u can see what they look like

as u can see i kinda dont have a solid post ts design for them except for the top half the braid asldkfjs and keijo is a duscur oc i made who is lavinias childhood friend (my friends and i all have extra ocs made thatre friends w our self inserts) but i didnt make a lot of lore for him rip :(

[xvi-the-tower]

OC kiss week- rain

A little piece I did for OCkiss week featuring my oc Lavinia and @nn-ee-zz 's Edward ❤️. Both characters are originally for Touchstarved, but this takes place in a Regency au where Lavinia isn't cursed.

As the two ran through the trees, Lavinia's laughter intermingled with the sound of large raindrops hitting the leaves and grass. Ed led the way to a small gazebo near the treeline where they could take shelter. Once inside, Lavinia all but collapsed against one of its pillars, trying to catch her breath in between bouts of giggling. "I can't say I remember the last time I got caught in the rain!" she exclaimed breathlessly.

"Though I do remember one time Ilya and I were picking berries and we got caught in this terrible downpour. I thought for sure Mrs. Danvers would murder us for muddying her floors!" She laughed again, even as the bitersweetness of the memory settled upon her heart. Happier times before she'd known the taste of heartache.

Lavinia looked over at Ed. He was smiling, his usually pale cheeks red from the exertion of running. And his dark eyes were glittering with what she assumed was amusement. She felt those eyes on her and felt bare before them. Embarrassed, she looked down at her feet. "My shoes!" she groaned, seeing that her shoes were caked in mud, as were her stockings and the hem of her dress. "Mama will be furious!" With that realization, the giddiness she'd felt moments before was replaced with vexation as she became aware of how she must look with the wet fabric of her dress clinging to her body. Her hair would surely be a frizzy mess with loose strands plastered to her neck. Though possibly the worst realization was that they had lost their chaperone. For the first time since rekindling their friendship, they were truly alone, blocked off from the world by a curtain of rain. How utterly unladylike!

Her spiral was interrupted by Ed who stepped toward her. "I will buy you new ones. And a new dress. After all, it was my idea to go for a walk even with the gathering clouds." His tone was soft and reassuring.

"Edward, I could never ask--"

"You didn't ask. I offered."

"I-- Thank you. You are a true friend."

The more time they spent together, the more she realized how much easier it was to lift the weight on her shoulders in his presence. Around him, the burdens of expectations and appearances felt so much lighter. As her mind began to settle, so too did the cold begin to settle in her bones. Ed must have noticed her start to shiver because he closed the distance between them and said, "Let me warm your hands."

Lavinia gave him her hands, which he pressed between his. It was the most contact they'd ever had, a fact of which she was acutely aware. Their eyes met, and he held her gaze as he brought her hands to his lips to place a reverent kiss to her fingers. His warm lips lingered on her cold skin, and suddenly her face felt incredibly hot. For a long moment, they stayed just like this, neither of them looking away...

"Lavinia!" It was her stepmother. In a panic, Lavinia pulled her hands away and clasped them behind her back. Had she seen them? Releasing the breath she just now realized she'd been holding, Lavinia looked away from Ed bashfully, waiting to be scolded. "Lavinia, come inside before you catch your death!" So she hadn't seen? That was a relief, but Lavinia knew she wasn't off the hook for getting caught in the rain and mud.

"Yes, mama!" Lavinia called back. The transformation was immediate. She corrected her posture, brushed the loose strands of hair from her face, and adopted the cool, aloof air that her stepmother expected of her. Holding her arm out to Ed, she asked quietly, "Will you escort me back to the house?"

He nodded and took her arm in his. "Of course."

At the threshold of the gazebo, Lavinia put her other hand on his arm and gave it a light squeeze. Despite the mask she'd spent years perfecting, she smiled.

[stake-bait]

KIEVAN RUS GAME? tell me more!! (my main vtm pc’s childe is rurik the varangian)

Firstly very impressive linage on your PC holy shit.

Secondly oh boy, I'll try to summerize

I did a sort of alternate history game in 980 AD in the wake of the mass conversion at Kiev and the christianization of the Kievan Rus as a whole, though with a lot more pagan holdouts in the north. The proto sabbat prince in this game wanted to bring more of a unified religion "the church of Cain" to the local vampire population to encourage a unique vampire culture and build a strong political base, and was using her status as holder of (future saint) Olga of Kiev's (a vamp in this game) coffin to do so. Our coterie, a retired varangian werewolf hunter turned beet farmer gangrel Halvar, our constantly lying, single adoptive father to a human child christan monk Casimir, and rusalka cosplaying local cryptid nosfertu Lavinia, were not big fans of this, due to personal political and religious differences.

The game centered around them going on a mission as assigned by said prince to find her runaway childer, while secretly gathering an army of vampiric (and surprisingly a few lupine) political dissidents to go fight her, while also dealing with a cell of hunters dedicated to rescuing ghouls and turning them back to humans who were obsessed with finding a cure for vampirism. The group defeated the most troublesome of the hunters and prince and murdered A LOT of the local vampire governance to the point where two of them (along with a fuckload of allies) actually took over themselves, and one of them fucked off to the woods to try to further study a cure. There was a glorious scene of setting the palace on fire on Christmas morning as the game ended.

[curseofthebloodcountess]

Session 20 Recap

We had Session 20 this weekend! It was a wild ride because it’s one of those games where political intrigue dominated the session and I learned just how deep the conspiracy well runs within some of my players. 

The warlock had a confrontation with Father Lucian, her adoptive father, first thing in the morning, about her hasty engagement to Doru Donavich. Lucian confronted her about whether or not Doru is a vampire and received an honest answer, much to his dismay. He tried to forbid the marriage, but Theo managed to convince him that she has the situation well in hand. Ireena, Ismark, Yeska, and the church staff joined for breakfast and preparations.

Alistor, our cleric, awoke alone in the Blue Water Inn. He tried to rouse the ranger, Tam, but Tam’s player was absent, so Tam was ruled too hungover to join in. Alistor then went downstairs and learned of the first stirrings that all is not well with the Martikovs’ wine supply. He spoke briefly with Nikolai Wachter about the masquerade plans to restore Stella’s broken mind and the two of them (separately, but not that far behind each other) arrived at church late. Theo realized that Nikolai is trying to be seen at church, not unlike the way her uncle, Vargas, Tries To Be Seen, but is also very much trying to fill his late father’s shoes. He spoke with Theo briefly and mentioned that his cousin, Lavinia, would be back in town for the masquerade and he hoped his mother had the good sense to match her with his Bachelor Uncle, Rafael Buckvhold. Theo and Alistor concluded that it would be a lavender marriage and, you know? Good for them. 

The party then ventured to the clothiers’ for masquerade costumes. I told the party they have one week to surprise me with what they’re going to wear. I’m excited! Then, they went to Vallakovich Manor to peruse the baron’s library. On the way, Izek Strazni revealed that he has shifted his Intense And Possibly Violent Romantic Longing from Theo to Ireena, based on things that have happened since the last festival. No one liked this information. The party arrived to the manor. They agreed to lunch with Lydia after they did their researchl. They caught Vargas practicing his speech for the Festival and they began researching the Teray family tree on behalf of one of the revenants. The family tree showed interconnection among the nobility of several of the towns, including Vallaki and Barovia Village and the party learned that Sir Robern Teray’s last living (“living”) descendant is either Doru Donavich, Thorn and Rose Durst, or a woman named Anastrasya Karelova who appears to be a clerical error without a death date. They plan to go to Barovia Village at some point to deliver the Teray family crest to Doru. They then had lunch with Lydia, which I thought revealed more than it did. Oops. They also checked on Victor and tried to dissuade him from using his teleportation circle to try to find Ez D’Avenir again. While they were upstairs, Theo and Ismark clocked a voice in Lydia’s private chambers and Theo saw the outline of a woman in the mirror fading away. Vargas invited Ismark and Alistor back to dinner to discuss politics because the party successfully convinced Vargas that they know about political organization and, yes, Ismark is still definitely the burgomaster of Barovia Village. Theo and Ireena decided to get more information out of the Wachter boys about Fiona’s book club. During preparations to speak with the baron, Alistor caught Ismark checking him out and Ireena made fun. The group split.

Ismark and Alistor went to the manor and went on the weirdest double date with Vargas and Lydia… and Izek who kept asking if Ireena is single. Through some really good rolls, Alistor persuaded Vargas to consider building a council so he can focus on the truly important things in rulership (“Like festivals!”). Ismark clocked that Lydia was upset and scheming and he told Alistor of his fears as they walked back to the inn. 

Meanwhile, as Ireena served as a decoy for the very drunk Karl Wachter, Theo challenged Nikolai to a vodka-drinking contest and asked him about the book club. Nikolai drunkenly revealed that it’s not really a book club, but a place to discuss political and religious dissension and that his mother has introduced (or perhaps reintroduced) worship of The Lady of Shadows, with the belief that Strahd is her prophet. Nikolai expressed some disagreement with this view, stating that worshipping monsters never prevented tragedy from happening, never prevented him from losing Elizaveta (Vallakovich, his fiancee) or his father, never prevented Stella’s curse. He then drunkenly revealed to Theo that he doesn’t think his father died from sickness like everybody says. He said that the night he died, his father had a cold and went to bed early, his mother was out, and while Nikolai had the house to himself, he invited Elizaveta over. They heard a strange noise and Elizaveta ended up leaving. The next day she was gone and his father was dead. It had been mere weeks before their wedding and he’s never recovered from the double loss, which is why he thinks his mother is pitching him to Lavinia. He told Theo the book club will be kind of like a church event, kind of like a town hall, but that “miracles” happen - always for other people and often involving money that answers people’s prayers. Karl then interrupted the conversation, trying to get the girls to dance and Nikolai took his brother home. Alistor and Ismark rejoined Theo and Ireena and decided to walk them back to the church for the night. When they did, one of the PCs asked Lucian if it was ridiculous to think Lydia might be an assassin and Lucian got really quiet and said that he didn’t think it was ridiculous at all. 

That’s where we ended the session. The PCs are in the Church, asking Lucian for information about Lydia and possibly getting the reveal of a lifetime. Tune in next time for a “book club” meeting and the impending Moonlight Masquerade, the best festival of the year!

[boopshoops]

Hello Hello! hope I’m doing this right

For the details about Ocs 💯 for Lavinia,Salem or Yoru?

HI JANJAN! <333

OOOOO THESE THREE.... theyre all very different from each other!!! This'll be fun!!

💯share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

Lavinia:

She is incredibly shy and mousy. She often struggles to speak up for herself because of this, which often leads to her handling other people's work.

As she is almost always working for other people, she has had very few opportunities to explore herself as a person. She hasn't found any hobbies yet due to this, and it is often something she avoids thinking about so it doesn't get her down (unhealthy coping mechanisms, hurrah!).

She is an INFJ on the MBTI test, like me! (Introverted, intuitive, feeling, judging)

Salem:

She loves partaking in baking as a hobby, and she wants to open up her own restaurant one day! She is partial to making sweets and/or the many, many dishes that encompass the many cultures that make up Latin America.

She ADORES anything related to witchcraft or the occult, if it wasn't already obvious by her name. She is particularly partial to tarot reading! She is 100% convinced that she is clairvoyant (she isn't).

In many stories I write her in, she has a familiar that only responds to and makes gurgling noises. The spell went... kinda awry, and now there's a floating blob-shaped void that kind of looks like a cat roaming around her house. She loves him nonetheless. He only goes by Eugh.

Yoru:

Yoru is bigender! They identify as a demiwoman and a man. He uses he/they.

They LOVE LOVE LOVE!!!! Dance!!! They have incorporated it into the way they move, breathe, live, and fight. He especially loves odori, flamenco, and tap!

He (unwillingly) adopted another character of mine named Zepar, and though he tried his best, they aren't the best parent. He is a very wild, independent, and free type of personality, having a random child follow them around everywhere was more than jolting for them, but Yoru and Zepar are still very close.

[flavourlessfiction]

JayTim week progress report, where you can plainly see which fic I really hyperfixated on writing since Easter

Ironically despite being the lowest word count Green is the day I came up with first and Red is the day I plotted out second last, and you could argue last anyway because Yellow is based off a whole other week.

As a little treat, and to give myself some extra motivation, I've included a snipet from my free day under the cut which is going to be the opening point of the Hunger Games AU I inevitably write.

From his limited contact with Capitol citizens, it seemed to be a habit many of them had adopted, speaking for the sake of speaking, not so much to avoid an awkward silence but to remind others of their importance, emphasising their accent. It was nothing like engaging them in genuine conversation, and Lavinia was one of the worst at it.

The few times he’d listened in on her conversations with his mentors, her tone would shift, start to loosen and then she’d catch herself, and the affect would return. He’d stopped engaging in more than brief exchanges following the games, leaving her plenty of air to share her thoughts on his every action.

Jason knew he couldn’t pretend all of her advice had been useless; she’d been an escort for 30 years and this was her fifth Victory Tour. She knew the right things to say when he let his nerves show. She also knew the right buttons to push to get on his nerves. 

Seemingly treating him as a thing rather than a person, his mentors hadn’t been much of an improvement since he’d ‘recovered’ from his injuries; he’d sworn he’d overheard Reed call him a mutt on their first night on the train. “Shouldn’t Sable be here?” Jason mumbled as he flipped through the cards, trying to ignore the way his stomach churned when he read Aggie’s name.

“She’s resting, enjoyed a few too many libations with Seven’s victors, luckily Janet Drake will happily guide you through today’s ceremonies.” Astrid said as she entered the carriage, the stylist holding out  her selection for him to wear.

He’d heard of her before, always held up alongside Bruce Wayne as the consummate Victor, although he wasn’t sure it meant much any time he’d seen Bruce or heard him speak he’d thought the man had a stick up his ass. “What’s she like, because none of you prepared me for Dick.”

“Oh, she’s absolutely darling, although you might not be to her taste. You’re not much older than her son, charming boy, not everyone remembers, but he was born in the Capitol.” Jason tried to ignore the insult, of course, she favoured her first Victor, and if Janet was a favourite, it only confirmed what Astrid had alluded to.

That the original distaste for him had only grown in the six months since the games. If it meant they left him alone, he wouldn’t complain. “I remember the night he was born, my father had made a hefty bet on the date, the winnings paid for my schooling,” Astrid giggled, gesturing for him to stand.

Jason had always known there was gambling on the Games, that some went as far as sponsoring on those that they bet on, however betting on a Victor giving birth just seemed a step too far even for the Capitol. Although the way Astrid and Lavinia kept chatting it seemed to be perfectly normal in their eyes.

[lavwen-archive]

-- hear me but a word!

FULL NAME: Lillian Wen PRONUNCIATION: LIL-ee-uhn WEN  MEANING:

Lillian: derived from Lily, symbol of innocence, beauty

Wen: of Chinese origin, warm

REASONING: Lillian is named after her Nonna’s favorite flower -- she was born soon after her Nonna passed and never met the woman, but her Nonno always keeps the patch of lilies that grow in the back gardens watered, and Lillian spent hours of her childhood playing in those very flowers. ALIAS: Lavinia NICKNAME: Some variation of Lily, though her Nǎinai calls her Lu Ling (the tinkling sound of jade against jade) sometimes. PREFERRED NAME: Lillian BIRTH DATE: June 29, 1993 AGE: 25 ZODIAC: Cancer GENDER: cis female PRONOUNS: she/hers NATIONALITY: French-Italian dual citizenship ETHNICITY: Half-Chinese; Half-French RELIGION: Agnostic CURRENT LOCATION: Verona, Italy LIVING CONDITIONS: Though Lillian grew up lower middle class, she now stays at the flat she purchased for her mothers under their names. The spacious three-bedroom flat is in a nicer location than where she grew up with lots of plants and light and most importantly a large terrace. It’s only been a couple years since her family moved in and given how much she travels, it still feels newer than like home. TITLES: Emissary CONTENT WARNING: mentions of sexual assault, homophobia

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE: The local clinic in the Third Arrondissement in Paris  HOMETOWN: Verona, Italy SOCIAL CLASS: Upper middle class EDUCATION LEVEL: Cultural Heritage (Art & History Track) Bachelor’s -- University of Verona FATHER: Unknown -- She knows that his nationality is French, he had brown hair and blue eyes. and that he’s 6′ 2″ which was apparently all her mothers needed to pick him from the binder. MOTHERS: Mei Lei “May” Wen (Birth Mother aka “Mama”) -- An out and proud Chinese bisexual woman with French Nationality. Her father came from the Wens: they immigrated in the early 1900s and worked in porcelain. Her mother had immigrated to Paris after marrying Lillian’s grandfather. Mei fell in love with a lovely Italian foreign exchange student in college. Her parents didn’t approve of their daughter loving a woman and so Mei and her love eloped to Verona. Mei’s parents would ultimately come around -- they hadn’t really liked the sperm donor idea but had been delighted to have a granddaughter. Lara Renzetti (Adoptive Mother aka “Ma”) -- Lara had more or less been open about loving women from the beginning; she was lucky to have parents who believed in love more than words in a book (though both were big proponents of education, having not gone to university themselves). Lara was in Paris to study Art -- and met bold, tattooed Mei Lei. Lillian would inherit this love of art and it would inform her own studies in the future. She and her Nonno were much closer when she was younger -- now that he’s older and struggles to remember things, it’s harder. SIBLING: None PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: A few girls, a few boys through secondary school and university. None of them seem memorable anymore. Lillian hasn’t been in any kind of relationship since her assault 2 years ago.

OCCUPATION & INCOME

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: Elite Milano (Model Agency based out of Milan) SECONDARY SOURCE OF INCOME: Capulets (Emissary) TERTIARY SOURCE(S) OF INCOME: Occasional sponsorships APPROXIMATE AMOUNT PER YEAR: €87,000 though she receives significant benefits like clothes, accessories, make up, as gifts.  CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB? Lillian is passionate about her job, specifically as a spokesperson model. It’s important for her to use her platform to discuss relevant issues. She’s an activist. Her new financial situation is nice, if only for the security. But Lillian also knows it’s a privilege so she wants to make sure she’s a) earned it and b) is doing good deeds with it. PAST JOB: She briefly worked as a Barista at the University Cafe, but was scouted out for Royal Management, a Verona based agency pretty early in university. She shot her first photo shoot at 19. She stayed with them for four years, before ending her contract and accepting representation through the Milan agency. SPENDING HABITS: Lillian has the thrifty habits of her childhood when her mothers struggled to make ends meet. While her lifestyle seems lavish due to the sponsorship “gifts” she receives, Lillian rarely makes big purchases -- she didn’t move into the new villa until she could purchase it entirely, no mortgage.  MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: Her home --  €298,000 +  €20,000 in renovations.

SKILLS & ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: 4/10 OFFENSE: 3/10 DEFENSE: 7/10 SPEED: 9/10 INTELLIGENCE: 8/10 ACCURACY: 6/10 AGILITY: 8/10  STAMINA: 9/10 TEAMWORK: 7/10 TALENTS: gaining trust, aware of how she’s perceived, physically fit, financially thrifty, intelligent SHORTCOMINGS: nervous, low muscle strength, lack of conviction, passive, uncertain

LANGUAGES SPOKEN: Wenzhounese, Italian, Mandarin (Lower proficiency: French, English) DRIVING: Lillian hasn’t learned how to drive. She prefers scooters. CAR MAINTENANCE: No BICYCLING: Yes SWIMMING: Yes INSTRUMENTS: Yes (Piano) CHESS: Yes  BRAIDING HAIR: Yes TIE A TIE: Yes LOCK PICKING: No

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: Adrianne Ho EYE COLOR: Black HAIR COLOR: Black HAIR STYLE: Type 2B, typically naturally air dried, with a little serum applied. She ties it back in ponytails or french braids often. DOMINANT HAND: Right HEIGHT: 5′9″ WEIGHT: 54.5 kgs BUILD: Lillian was always slim, but she didn’t start focusing on fitness and strength until a couple years ago. Now that she has some muscle definition (she hasn’t gained as much as she’d like), her build is more athletic. EXERCISE HABITS: Every weekday morning that she’s home, Lillian joins her mother for an early session of Qigong (her Mama is a little bit of a...hippie. Both are really.) It warms her muscles before she goes on her daily run. She runs on the weekends as well. Twice a week she conditions. She misses strength training the most because of how often she told to not bulk up before a shoot. SKIN TONE: Lillian’s skin is roughly the same tone as her mother’s, the color of a fawn or beach sand, with warm undertones. She typically tanned, rather than burned and is grateful to have inherited her mother’s genes for this. SCARS: She’s got a scar on her knee from her childhood friend, angry at her for some childish conflict pushed Lillian off her bike, a tiny line of a scar right under her chin from when she fell on the concrete steps outside her school her first week. The newest set is still a couple years ago, on the heel of her palm from the broken mirror -- a prop from the photoshoot -- in her struggle against her assaulter. NOTABLE FEATURES: Shapely brows, excellent figure, high and sharp cheekbones USUAL EXPRESSION: A neutral expression, could be interpreted as blank. She doesn’t want to suggest anything positive or inviting at first glance. CLOTHING STYLE: Comfortable but stylish, casual mixed with athletic/athleisure on her own, but enjoys dressing up for shoots and parties. DIET: Drinks as much water as possible. Typically something like avocado toast in the morning (something fatty + protein + complex carbs). Her lunch follows the same format of complex carbs (quinoa, brown rice, certain greens) + protein (salmon, chicken, edamame, etc.) + whatever is in season in a bowl with various dressings/flavorings. Dinners are whatever her mothers have cooked -- both traditional Chinese and Italian food. She snacks on fruits and trail mix sort of things, and will splurge with dark chocolate (especially dark chocolate covered goji berries). Moderation over restriction.  PHYSICAL AILMENTS: None.

PSYCHOLOGY

JUNG TYPE: ESFJ (Fe-Si-Ne-Ti)

Judging Functional Axis (FeTi): Socially conscious and loyal to family, Everett seeks to build up those he cares about — evidenced in his relationships with Catherine and Easton. His love language is practicality, shown through actions rather than verbal affirmation. Prior to joining the mob, Everett had little qualms with sharing his emotions, but since joining he has been stuck in a grip (inferior Ti) and thus has begun repressing his emotions. He has a strong moral compass, but struggles to make difficult decisions if it means creating social backlash (e.g. not believing that his mother would degrade Easton, not leaving the Capulets despite moral qualms). As a capodecina, Everett is quick to mentor his soldiers and seeks to understand the underlying patterns behind the information given to him before acting so that he never has to sacrifice a soldier for the sake of larger gain. He is very in tune with human behavior and uses this knowledge to manipulate others when working for the Capulets.

Perceiving Functional Axis (SiNe): Everett is visionary, able to project large-scale future plans for C&R (Ne) based on past experiences (Si). He adroitly uses observation to speculate people’s ulterior motives, giving him an edge when at society parties (alongside Fe). Despite his serious front, he is actually quite laid back around those he cares about, allowing himself to crack jokes and indulge in new things. Everett is steeped in past experiences, unable to let go of traumatic past events (e.g. his failed relationship with Vivianne). Furthermore, he applies his experiences to outward speculation — if Vivianne was using him, so must most other people, therefore he cannot trust people to be honest with him.

ENNEAGRAM TYPE: 1w2 (The Advocate)

“Conscientious and ethical, with a strong sense of right and wrong. They are teachers, crusaders, and advocates for change: always striving to improve things, but afraid of making a mistake. Well-organized, orderly, and fastidious, they try to maintain high standards, but can slip into being critical and perfectionistic. They typically have problems with resentment and impatience. At their best: wise, discerning, realistic, and noble. Can be morally heroic.”

“Want to be right, to strive higher and improve everything, to be consistent with their ideals, to justify themselves, to be beyond criticism so as not to be condemned by anyone.”

“Ones attempt to control or repress their anger and instinctual energy. They feel that they must stay in control of themselves, especially of their instinctual impulses and angry feelings at all times.”

MORAL ALIGNMENT: lawful neutral TEMPERAMENT: sanguine ELEMENT: air PRIMARY INTELLIGENCE TYPE: Interpersonal, followed closely by logical-mathematical. APPROXIMATE IQ: 139 SOCIABILITY: High. Everett is very good at hosting, socializing, or swaying a crowd. It’s that classic Craven charm. EMOTIONAL STABILITY: Everett considers himself quite emotionally stable — and for the most part, he is. However, this is partly due to a large part of his emotions being repressed, particularly in relation to Vivianne as well as his guilt over his involvement in the mob. If incensed (although it’s difficult to do), it’s possible he can become volatile. ADDICTION: Cigarettes. He can’t quite shake it. DRUG USE: No. Slightly hypocritical, but he considers himself above such vices as recreational drugs. ALCOHOL USE: Everett drinks wine, and will have a scotch or two when out with friends. He does not, however, get tipsy in public. PRONE TO VIOLENCE? No. He hates it.

MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE: It depends on the audience, although some (read: Tiberius) have mentioned that poshness practically reeks through his words. In strictly business settings, Everett speaks quite formally in order to adhere to typical negotiation protocol. In others — such as casual business lunches, public appearances, and Capulet dealings — he adopts a more modified version of formality that’s casual enough to not sound stuffy, even if a bit of upper-class still seeps into his tone. Around those he’s comfortable with, Everett’s fond of teasing and can often be seen with a bit of a smirk on his lips. ACCENT: When speaking Italian, Everett has a slight Milanese accent similar to his mother’s (e.g. pronounces z as /s/ instead of /ts/, very quick, precise speech, vowels more at the front of his mouth). He learnt English from his father and speaks with a typical RP accent, although when he gets excited the inflection of his sentences and a few words here and there can seem a bit Italian. In terms of timbre, he’s a baritone. QUIRKS: always takes the stairs two or three steps at a time, absolutely cannot fall asleep with the light on or in a warm room HOBBIES: playing violin, traveling, wine tasting, reading, sparring HABITS: regularly updates a task list on his phone, attends mass once a week, speeding, goes through the rosary once a day NERVOUS TICKS: Virtually imperceptible, as Everett has become quite adept at hiding his emotions. However, he tends to tense his jaw when he’s irritated. MOTIVATIONS: Everett’s primary motivation in his life is his loyalty to his family, specifically his father, Gabriel, and his younger brother Easton. This can be divided into two sub-motivations of healing the rift between Easton and himself and preserving the family legacy, such as C&R’s financial status and the family reputation. Other driving factors include his protective instinct towards close family friends, his religious beliefs, and self-ambition to make his mark in the world. FEARS: Everett’s primary fear is failure: specifically, failure to live up to the standards he’s set for himself. This is an especially powerful source of stress in his life due to the conflict between his moral code and his mob involvement. Other fears include those close to him using him for superficial means and the prospect of a loved one’s safety being compromised. POSITIVE TRAITS: compassionate, perseverant, protective, dutiful, conscientious NEUTRAL TRAITS: loyal, well-bred, in control of emotions, shrewd, hardworking, dry-humored NEGATIVE TRAITS: hypocritical, averse to confrontation, supercilious, repressed SENSE OF HUMOR: A bit dry, mostly. Everett loves a good laugh, even if it’s at his own expense, and is prone to teasing people he’s fond of. DO THEY CURSE OFTEN? Not particularly. His parents taught him that cursing is relegated to those who don’t have a large enough vocabulary to properly express themselves otherwise, so Everett, for the most part, refrains from cursing. Sometimes it’ll slip out, though. CATCHPHRASE: More of a filler word than a catchphrase, but tends to say, “well” at the beginning of sentences.

FAVORITES

ACTIVITY: traveling ANIMAL: wolf BEVERAGE: sangiovese BOOK: John Milton’s Paradise Lost CELEBRITY: his mother COLOR: green DESIGNER: Armani FOOD: pickles FLOWER: lily HOLIDAY: Christmas MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: car MOVIE: 12 Angry Men MUSICAL ARTIST: Count Baise SCENERY: the view from the Conservatory SCENT: bay rum aftershave SPORT: football SPORTS TEAM: Inter Milan WEATHER: sunny with a brisk breeze VACATION DESTINATION: Vienna

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM: At his core, Everett’s main aspirations are more or less the same aspirations he had when he was eighteen: living a life of peace, stability and happiness, having a fulfilling career, and perhaps someday raising a family. GREATEST FEAR: Easton or Catherine dying. Enough said. MOST AT EASE WHEN surrounded by people he trusts and genuinely cares for — this includes Halcyon, Catherine, Mikael, Odin, Maeve, among others. He’s also at ease when he feels as if he’s in control of his life, or in a place where the equilibrium and success he’s built for himself is not threatened. LEAST AT EASE WHEN he’s out of touch with himself or who he wants himself to be, a situation that manifests during late nights at the cathedral. To a lesser degree, Everett also feels as if he’s going mad whenever he’s around Faron. WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: See Greatest Fear BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: Everett is proudest of guiding C&R from a billion-euro company to a multibillion one and proving to the board of directors that he deserved his position as a CEO for reasons more than just his family name. BIGGEST REGRET: The entire situation with Vivianne — including falling in love with her, joining the mob, and making his first kill. If he had the choice, he’d have picked a different spot to study on that fateful September afternoon. MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: Realizing Vivianne had lied to him for eight years. On a less emo note, Everett wanted to stab his eyes out after he walked in on Mikael and Grace having sex in his own bedroom. BIGGEST SECRET: He has none. Incidentally, he also doesn’t care at all for the Capulet underboss. TOP PRIORITIES: Protecting his family, maintaining a spotless reputation and securing C&R’s financial situation in that specific order.

[girlwiththearthistoryaccount]

Lavinia Bingham

Title: Lavinia Bingham

Artist: Joshua Reynolds

Date: 1785

Movement: Brittish Rococo

Medium: Oil on canvas

Genre: Portrait

Say it with me, landscape in the background!.

Lavinia Bingham, Known also as the countess Spencer, was quite wealthy and even with out the landscape, it’s not hard to tell that she is rich and well to do.

we also start to see the faintest hints of what are to become impressionism in art. The small gestures and blurring to make to give the illusion of that that something is starting to take hold of artists and become much more stylistic rather than true copies of whats in front of them.

this technique was stamped out in the Neo-classic era by the academies, but came back into style as the photograph render realism as useless.

with out these techniques being adopted so widely so early, impressionism might have ended up looking much different than as we know it today.

[siiinfully]

He wasn't the first person in the Ton to mistake her for a Miss Bridgerton. Rather than be irritated, however, she smiled kindly at him and shook her head. "I'm afraid not. Lady Lavinia Beresford. It's also a pleasure to meet you, my lord." She curtsied and looked up to meet his gaze as she stood up straight. "May I ask why you mistook me for this Miss Bridgerton? Do we really look that much alike?"

A part of her wondered if her parents had another daughter that they put up for adoption, but she knew that her grandfather would never lie to her about something as important as that.

@siiinfully liked here for a starter from a Bridgerton muse.

Simon walks into the ball, looking around for Daphne. It hasn't been long since this ruse of theirs has started, so he's feeling a bit apprehensive. Will it work? He walks around only to run right into Daphne? Or is it her? "Miss Bridgerton?" He asks, unsure if it's actually her or just someone with an uncanny resemblance.

After a few moments, he bows. "Apologies, Miss.....I thought you were someone I knew. Simon Basset, Duke of Hastings. A pleasure to meet you...."