restlessxrebel
Within nightmares and dreams; there is no rest.
Selective multi muse only. Multi-verse. Mun is 18+
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lockwords:
“A challenge to make me not care about you?” he said, amusement evident in his tone, before he pulled her slightly closer, his tone softer as he continued to speak. “You know me well, Elise, do you really think it could be a challenge you would win?” He had always been protective of her, and he didn’t think anything could change that, especially not when it seemed like she was only in so much more danger now than ever before. Perhaps it was the alcohol in their system but their conversation was taking a turn which he knew it wouldn’t have if they had been sober. And the idea that Elise had feelings for him at anytime surprised him. She had hinted on it when she had been under the curse, but he had brushed it off as something she lied about simply to taunt him. Or maybe he had needed to convince himself that was the case instead of thinking about what they had lost simply because he had been blind to how she felt. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he murmured just as her lips brushed against his, and he found himself leaning in, cupping her face in his hands as he returned the kiss just as softly.
“I can always try.” Elise argued stubbornly. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the fact that he was still so protective of her- it was sweet, in a way. Granted, she had clearly misunderstood that protectiveness as something else so long ago, but now it was comforting. Nevertheless, that didn’t mean that she didn’t want him to fcus on himself first. “I can make you a deal, then. Focus on yourself, and care about yourself first, and then move on to me.” A smile sneaked back on her face, for a few brief moments, before it was all lost in the kiss again. Why didn’t she tell him that? Because she saw the way he looked at Andy; the way he looked at all those other girls who kept him company, and she didn’t want to be one of them. Or, even worse, she didn’t want to be rejected, and pitied. It was always easier to swallow her own feelings and simply move on, find someone else who could potentially live up to what she was giving up. “Because it wouldn’t have made a difference.” She murmured, as their dancing stilled, and her focus shifted completely onto the kiss. It was everthing and so much more than she had expected it to be, and Elise moved her hands to the back of his neck, bringing Stefan closer, wanting more.
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lockwords:
“Try and stop me.” he responded in the same teasing tone. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said he worried about her, it was something he had gotten used to over the years and after failing to protect her the last time, Stefan worried more than ever about Elise. “Well, what is the right way to ask?” he mused, becoming hyper aware of how close they were to each other, the excuse of dancing was merely that now, an excuse and while he should perhaps be pulling away from her, he didn’t. His eyes met hers at her question, brows raising in surprise as he watched her gaze fall to his lips. “Is that what you want?” he asked her quietly, before he forced himself to come back to his senses. Perhaps he wasn’t as sober as he imagined, and he was certain she wouldn’t be talking so freely any other night.
“Is that a challenge, Nott?” Elise questioned him cheekily, continuing on with their little charade. After all, at the moment, it simply felt easier to play along to it, rather than stop and focus on the actual meaning behind this conversation. Not that she had no energy or ability for it, however. “It was just...different. If I have to tell you, you won’t get it.” She insisted. Maybe she simply didn’t know what the right way was- or maybe it was her lack of confidence that was holding her back from accepting anything. Then again, why would Stefan ask her out in such a way? She was his friend’s little sister, and he was...someone she used to have a crush on. That last thought stuck with her, and, at his question, she smiled. “I used to.” Elise responded as seriously as she could. And, losing herself to the music, to the alcohol- to the feeling of him so close to her- she leaned in, pressing her lips against his lightly, to get the taste of him, to see whether it was just the way she always imagined it.
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lockwords:
“Worrying about you is second nature for me.” he admitted with a smile gracing his lips. This was far from worrisome of course, Stefan was glad she was finally letting loose, let herself smile and be happy. He couldn’t remember the last time she was this way, it was far before Bernard placed the curse on her probably, which was literally months ago. He still fell guilty for not having caught that and helped her sooner. “Don’t blame me on this, I have offered to buy you drinks far too many times than I can count – you never were interested.” He stepped closer to her as they swayed to the music, perhaps inappropriately close – but thanks to all the drinks he had, he didn’t care. Her question made his eyes widen in surprise for just a moment. “No, it wouldn’t be bad.” he said softly, slightly stumped for words. “But that isn’t.. us, is it?” @restlessxrebel
“It shouldn’t be.” Elise teased him, playfully, yet meant it even in the drunken state that she was. The last thing she wanted was for him to worry about her- surely, Stefan had plenty on his plate as it was. Although, now, she wasn’t attempting to focus on that thought; instead, as weird as it was, she was pushing that aside, and continuing to dance, continuing to move closer to the man that has been her friend for so long. Now, nothing else mattered, as especially not the reasons why she had ended up in this state, the reasons that had eventually led her here. “That’s because you never offered it the right way! Read the room, Stefan.” The brunette teased him, and her arms wrapped tighter around him, all under a fake pretence of them just dancing. She felt free, far more free than she had felt in so long, and she wanted for that to show. “No, it’s not us.” Elise didn’t argue over it, she knew it would have been stupid. He was so close, so damn close, and her eyes drifted to his lips, for just a few brief moments. And she wondered, would they really taste the way she always imagined them to? “But why can’t it be us?”
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Platonic Requests for Affection
“I’m so tired… ”
“I don’t want to be alone.”
“My hands are shaking.”
“Don’t get up. I’m comfortable like this.”
“Please stay. I’d like some company.”
“Could I get a hug?”
“Would you pet my hair?”
“Will you sing something for me?”
“I just want to be close to someone for a little bit. Is that okay?”
“Can I lay my head in your lap?”
“You can touch my hair but don’t mess it up!”
“Here, lay down in my lap.”
“You know, you’re pretty comfy.”
“Come here, ya big lug/small fry.”
“Just take my hand. It’ll be better, I promise.”
“I’m not letting go.”
“I’ll hold you as long as you need.”
“It’s okay to stay, you know.”
“I’m so happy you’re here with me.”
“Your hugs are warm. We should do this more often.”
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"Such a horror! How will I ever cope with a pretty girl thinking she's not interested in me." Lucian said with a smirk, his sarcasm easily matching, if not topping, the brunette's sarcasm. He never cared about his attitude, and if the Victor was to run away just after this, then so be it. He expected far more than this from her, especially after everything that Lucian had heard of her. He ignored her impatience, instead lazily sipping on his whiskey as he looked over at the woman in the peacock feather ensemble. "You mean apart from that love for incredibly stupid headwear?" He commented casually. "She wears it to bed. Not exactly bed. Likes to use the feathers from it to put a whole new meaning to the whole tickle her fancy. It's the only way, for her, actually."
restlessxrebel:
Lucian couldn’t help but smirk at the girl’s comment, taking a better look at her as she sipped on the whiskey. It was so obvious that sh was restraining herself, and that only made the Sponsor chuckle as he waited for the whiskey to be left alone again, picking it up afterwards and filling his own glass up nearly to the brim.
“I’m a Capitolite.” There was sarcasm in his tone, as always, accompanied by that annoying smirk. “We all come with something special about us. Something extremely fucked up and twisted.” He turned around, then, moving to lean against the bar as he observed the crowd, the smirk remaining. “I could name kinks on half of those freaks.”
“Oh, that was such a shame. I was interested until I heard where you were from.” she replied sarcastically, not even bothering to hide it anymore as she merely leant against the bar and tapped her fingers against the bar impatiently, doe eyes flickering to the clock on the wall as she tried to count down the time until she could go home. “Okay, I give. Name that kink.” she eyed the crowd, before pointing out a woman in a peacock feather ensemble that made her gag. Nodding at her, she took another drink. “Her.”
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(Lucian is interesting)
(You’re very kind, thank you!)
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district-one-beauty:
Cashmere didn’t feel good about this. There had been acts all over the Districts about a rebellion and people were being killed over it. The blonde needed a drink to get over this bad feeling. She even talked to Gloss about it, bit of course his reaction was “if it’s not happening to us, why should we care?” Yeah no.
She was wearing the most gorgeous emerald green dress decked out with diamonds. Cashmere glided to the bar, all eyes on her, at least anyone important. Others were too occupied with the Everdeen girl. She spotted one of the Capitol sponsors and smiled. She needed to start buttering them up for the Quarter Quell. It was going to be special and the announcement would be in the morning.
“Well, what am I supposed to do, grow a few more inches? These are already six inch heels,” she said as she tried to make a joke. “I’ll have what you’re having though. Looks good.
“You can grow another head if you pleased, the freakshow likes only the fresh meat.” Lucian was never one to play nice and respectable. Anything that was on his mind, was on his tongue, and he was quick to put himself into dangerous situations. If it wasn’t for his family’s name, ucian knew he’d be long dead. Now, the death was inevitable, only in a more subtle way.
He kept his eyes on the blonde, taking in her looks in appreciation. She was stunning, he wasn’t going to deny that, and he was as big of a flirt as he was a sarcastic nuisance to everyone. “It’s their fault, however. They’re missing out on some classics.” He smirked, leaning over the bar and getting her a glass so he could fill it up with the whisky he had hogged all to himself. “And that classic’s in luck tonight! I’m in a sharing mood.”
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ptcnkinwrites:
“Kinky.”
Isabelle barely gave the man a glance as she replied, only looking long enough to recognise that he wasn’t a victor and wasn’t from the districts. She took a sip of the whiskey, before tilting her head back to down the whiskey and he reached to grab the whiskey for a refill again. She was desperate to forgo the glass but she could feel the sharp gaze of her mentor on her back making sure that she was behaving. Cord was always on the prowl to make sure that she was being courteous.
Aiming a brief glare in Cord’s direction, she turned back to the Capitolite. “So, you always been into S&M or am I just a special exception?”
Lucian couldn’t help but smirk at the girl’s comment, taking a better look at her as she sipped on the whiskey. It was so obvious that sh was restraining herself, and that only made the Sponsor chuckle as he waited for the whiskey to be left alone again, picking it up afterwards and filling his own glass up nearly to the brim.
“I’m a Capitolite.” There was sarcasm in his tone, as always, accompanied by that annoying smirk. “We all come with something special about us. Something extremely fucked up and twisted.” He turned around, then, moving to lean against the bar as he observed the crowd, the smirk remaining. “I could name kinks on half of those freaks.”
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ptcnkinwrites:
It spoke volumes that he didn’t even flinch when she threw the glass against the wall, instead he mentally chalked a point to himself in the chalkboard of score keeping in his mind. Him versus Rosaline, something he would be enjoying about mentoring no doubt. He’d heard stories of the victor from others in the village, and in the lead up to the Games Vidia had explained what she thought he would need to mentor alongside her. The Rosaline Cassidy guide to surviving the crazy victor of District Five.
He was just spending that time using the tips Vidia gave him to push Rosaline’s buttons in a way that caused the flare ups of temper that he’d heard so much about from the other victors. A wicked smirk tugged at his lips, “Okay but like, I can’t do 8am, can we make it 8:30?” he replied with a chuckle, downing the drink and momentarily placing the glass on the side cabinet and raising his hands in surrender. “Promise, half an hour I’m all yours Rosie.”
Rosaline narrowed her eyes when her Victor didn’t even flinch. He really did have a death wish- a far worse one than anyone else she’s met, so far. And it only but kept on annoying her more and more, building that rage within the young girl. She resisted the urge to throw another glass at Austin, instead using it for the alcohol.
Slowly, the brunette turned to face Austin, walking over to hi, almost as if ready to attack. He’s been pushing her buttons ever since the Reaping; and if it had not been for Vidia, they would’ve had a huge argument right in front of their newly selected tributes. “Scrap it.” She said angrily, downing half of the drink she had as she moved to stand in front of Austin. “With you, I’ll only need five minutes. At best.” But then he called her than, and she snapped, pouring the rest of the drink onto his head. “Don’t ever call me that, Sparks.” she hissed angrily.
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Another party, another reason for Sponsors to meet their favourite Victors, to mingle with the crowds and pretend like they were special. For Lucian, it was another reason to get drunk free of charge; then again, it wasn’t as if he needed to count the money. Despite being the family’s black sheep, he had more than plenty of money to do as he pleased, be it sponsor, drink, or support illegal rebel activities in the Districts.
Tonight, however, all of it was forgotten. Instead, the man was spending his time at the bar, with the bartender having had already given up on him and having had left the bottle of his favourite whiskey next to him. He was so lost in it, caring little to the people round him, that it took Lucian up until the woman was next to him to actually notice her. “Tough luck, sweetheart, you’re not getting the bartender’s attention from here.”
@district-one-beauty
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Vidia was away, with the rumoured pregnancy, and Rosaline couldn’t be angrier. She was a Victor; she knew the risks of having children, and here she was, being so damn reckless? Rosaline never expected that our of her own Mentor.
Of course, on top of it all, she was also angry at Vidia for making her go back to Mentoring.
Here she was, back at the Tribute Tower, back at the city she loathed more than anything, back to talking to people she couldn’t stand even looking at. No matter how much she threatened them, no matter how much she actually hit them and cussed them out, they were there, buzzing around her, all so curious and ready to see the Crazy Girl. There was that never ending excitement about what the girl, that so-brutally murdered a Tribute twice her size, would do next. There was as much excitement in getting into bed with her, too.
On top of it all, she had to mentor with one of the newest additions to her District’s Victors. Austin was his name, she thought. Or something along those lines- she’d never pretend she actually cared enough to remember that. Nevertheless, they were stuck trying to get their Tributes out, despite the mutual respect for that.
All of that put together led to Rosaline’s mood being more down than usual, and despite the girl being underage, she didn’t bother getting one of the bottles of rum out of the cabinet her Victor had broken into. It was early in the morning, but as the man ranted on, her mood grew more and more sour.
Without saying anything, Rosaline turned to Austin, throwing her still-empty glass against the wall, inches away from his head. “8 AM, rip the dickhead apart and live my life in peace.” She mocked him, glaring at him one more time before finally grabbing another glass and pouring herself a drink.
@restlessxrebel
It was almost laughable that he was mentoring his first year out of the arena, but then again that was what was expected for all the ‘fortunate’ souls that came out of the Hunger Games. He had turned up, done the obligatory ‘I won’t pretend I know your names’ to the tributes before he had promptly broken the lock on the liquor cabinet and helped himself. When Rosaline entered the room he didn’t bother to offer her a drink, he might’ve not known his mentor well but he knew her well enough that she would help herself if she wanted and probably smack him around the head for some reason or another that he had no idea he’d even done. That was the nature of their newfound dynamic it seemed, and it seemed their co-mentor relationship was becoming eerily like their tribute - mentor dynamic. “Good morning Rosaline, and what is on the agenda for today? Wait, let me guess. 9am, yell at the tributes. 10am, yell at the mentors. 11am, throw weapons at the tributes though Grey might beat you to that one she’s down in the training centre already. 12pm, yell at the tributes for eating lunch. Maybe if you’re lucky they’ll be wishing for death by bedtime and we can cut our losses and just go home.”
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To Lucian, all the balls were the same. Victory Ball, Pre-Games Ball, Viewing Ball, Celebratory Ball... Yet he attended all of them, taking pleasure in drinking, flirting with anyone willing to flirt with him, and putting more and more shame onto his family’s name. Yes, the balls were fun. In the worst possible ways.
Lucian couldn’t recall which Victory Ball this was, but he was there, at the bar, the bartender’s favourite alcoholic. The press was always keen to capture the youngest Fiore drunk, or doing anything to put more shame onto his family, and Lucian was definitely not one to avid them. However, when the ball was full of Victors, he was finally able to take a breather from the supposed pressure, and get drunk with his favourite whiskey.
His solitude of drinking was cut short when a brunette came to the bar, grabbing one of the bottles of whiskey- just the ones he was aiming to hog all to himself. He vaguely remembered her as one of the tributes from the Games a little while ago; one of those he actually put his money on. Isabelle, was it?
“I would, but I feel like you’re more likely to slap me if I just keep staring.” The Capitolite smirked, downing his glass as he kept his eyes on the brunette. “And there’s always a bit of fun in that.”
@restlessxrebel
From the moment she had stepped out of her arena, Isabelle Grey had shut almost everyone out. Her father, her brothers, her sister, her mentor. She’d made friends in the other victors, that was true, but no one ever really saw the true Isabelle and for that she wasn’t sure if she was grateful, or lonely. Bran and River were always there for her, but tonight she wasn’t sure she was in the mood for the constant joking and pranking that seemed to fuel them all the time. She couldn’t keep up the act that she was some shiny victor on display to preen and prance around at the request of the Capitol. It was bad enough that she was forced to come into the Capitol from her safety net in Three. The Victors Ball was the one event people usually enjoyed, though not her. Somehow, she’d slipped into the victor’s ball unnoticed by the usual suspects, apart from the barrage of press that had been harassing her outside, as she slid along the edge of the ballroom in search of the one thing that would truly make the night go that little bit quicker: alcohol. The victor kept her cool whilst she grabbed the first drink she could find, the whiskey all she really needed to get her through the next few hours of torture that this ball always meant. As she took a sip, she felt rather then saw someone nearby and rolled her eyes. “Take a picture it lasts longer.”
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Name: Rosaline Amanda Cassidy
Age: 17- 34 (currently depends on the verse and timeline)
Place of Birth: District Five, Panem
Status: Victor, Mentor for District Five for the Hunger Games
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bisexual
Relationship Status: Multi-ship
Faceclaims: Felicity Jones (17-24); Gemma Arteron (25-34); Rachel Weisz (35-)
BIOGRAPHY:
Growing up in District 5 as an only child to a relatively middle class family, Rosaline never really starved; there was food on her table, clean and decent enough clothes to wear, and happy parents to ensure that she had as normal of a life as she possibly could. Both of her parents worked in one of the plants, as most of the people in District 5 did, and she already pictured herself going to work there one day, too, despite not really craving for it.
But it all came crashing down one day; and quite literally. One of the power plants in the District malfunctioned, collapsing and bursting into flames almost instantly, leaving everyone inside trapped to wait for their deaths. As multiple children were pulled out of their classes, Rosaline appeared to be one of them. After the announcement of her parents’ deaths, the girl was sent to live with her uncle and his family, never really fitting in there, yet never really having a terrible life in there, either.
Rosaline was barely 13 when she was reaped; it was just her second year, and her name was in the bowl only so many times. When her name was called out, Rosaline froze, shock washing down her fragile body. Everyone thought that the girl would die first; the belief was so strong that even Rosaline thought so herself. The little girl was fragile, and always seemed so weak, that no one believed she would go further than the Bloodbath.
The arena Rosaline was thrown into was an abandoned, deserted, post-war town. A lot of Tributes died due to buildings collapsing, and, as twisted as it sounded, Rosaline used her knowledge in that to create as many traps as possible, managing to kill 5 Tributes just by herself. But what took everyone-even herself- by a surprise was when the skinny thirteen year old girl managed to kill a District 1 tribute with brutal and cold force, succeeding in bashing his head against one of the sharper pieces of debris until his skull split open.
Much to everyone’s surprise, the little girl came out of her Arena as a Victor. However, long gone was the relatively happy, air headed girl that people knew before her parents’ deaths or the Games. The experience changed Rosaline, and she came out as a cold, calculating and dark minded Victor of her own Hunger Games. She didn’t even argue when she was taken on the Victory tour, nor when the Capitol told her to start trading her body for various gifts. It was as if the true Rosaline remained in forever stuck in the Arena, and whatever creature that came out instead of her, wasn’t even close to the real her. Nowadays, only the very few people get to see the glimpses of the happy, joyous, innocent Rosaline that she once was, and even those glimpses are extremely rare.
Nowadays, Rosaline is no one’s favorite mentor; with her sharp tongue and all too honest answers, most Tributes seem to dislike her or even fear her, and, in a way, she’s happy about it. It only but means that they don’t get attached to her, and neither does she, leaving her with a lot less sorrow to deal with every single year. Apart from that, Rosaline remains sarcastic and extremely harsh and threatening, flirty at times, keeping her distance from just about anyone. It is a rare treat to see her happy and helpful towards anyone, tributes included, and it would take a true gem to wake the fire, the continuous joy, that resides deep in her heart.
PLOTS AND CONNECTIONS:
TBA/ Down for brainstorming
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Name: Lucian Exodus Fiore
Age: 20-39 (currently depends on the verse and timeline)
Place of Birth: The Capitol, Panem
Status: Capitolite, Sponsor for the Hunger Games
Ethnicity: Caucasian
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Pansexual
Relationship Status: Multi-ship
FACTS AND CANONS:
Member of the influential Fiore family, Lucian has spent his entire time being a part of the Games. He grew up watching the kids get slaughtered, he grew up watching his parents and his siblings bet on their favourites. He grew up loathing the Games with absolute passion.
He is the youngest son out of the four Fiore siblings. He has a brother and twin sisters.
Took up alcohol at a very early age, often making a fool and a nuisance out of himself during many of the parties his family attended.
His sarcastic, teasing nature has earned him a lot of enemies, and even more beatings.
Despite his family’s history, and his status as a Sponsor, Lucian heavily supports any rumors of rebellions. He is one of the main contacts for rebels outside the Capitol.
PLOTS AND CONNECTIONS:
TBA/ Down for brainstorming
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Katniss’ hope drops low when Hayden explains to her the tricks and bits of the people living in their District, and, in a way, she has to agree with him. She would never take the charity. So why would the rest of them do that? There was no way that they would. Not even if she tried to fool them into doing so; they’d just figure it all out and she’d lose whatever trust the District people have in her. She’d probably end up getting whipped, too, but, after everything she’s gone through, she wouldn’t even mind it.
And, in a way, it terrifies her.
“I’m no different. I’m no victor. Peeta is more of a victor than I am.” Here she is, arguing with him once again. But Katniss simply cannot help it at this point. She knows that Peeta is so much more better at this; he’s much more gentle, much more caring, and much more charismatic than she’s ever going to be. “Nobody would accept that charity from me. You’re right. I know those people, and I wouldn’t even be able to pass it up as accidental charity.”
“How can you say that?” Anger flares up in her again, and she’s glaring at Hayden again. “How can you say it’s not bad? I’ll have to face the families of kids I saw die. Families of kids I’ve killed. They might as well be given rocks to throw at me, it’d make things easier.”
He’s a little amazed by how selfless this girl is. First volunteering for her sister, then her actions during the Games, and now giving away her money… Katniss can be selfish at times but she makes up for it in grand gestures.
And still she doesn’t see how her selfless human - since she insists on the term - acts can be seen as brave or heroic. How it can inspire people.
There is no way of giving away their money to your District aside for spending it. Everything else would be seen as a defiant gesture by the Capitol and dealt with accordingly.
“Even if there was a way to get away with it, nobody in the District would take your money. I know. I tried.” he shrugs. “Nobody in Twelve likes charity.” Not even the starving families. “If they’re really desperate they will accept your food but they will resent you for it. It doesn’t matter if you’re just trying to help.” He can remember being young and certain he could make a difference. His family didn’t really need the money from his monthly stipend… They were comfortable with Haymitch’s. They didn’t need much. He had fancied himself the Seam’s savior. “Of course, it was me… You’re different. The victor they were waiting for. The victor they deserved. Maybe some of them would accept it but I don’t recommand doing it often. If the Capitol catches up, they will punish you.”
He hates to see her losing her fire at the mention of the Tour. “Yeah, it is. But the Tour isn’t so bad really…”
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