2017 Locker for Elina

[kayable]

Name (as you'd like it to appear in the subject line for your stocking): Elina

Fandoms: League of Legends, Overwatch, Mistborn, The Hunger Games, Lord of the Rings, German Literature, Divergent, The Hunger Games

Characters/Pairings/Moresomes:
League of Legends: Vladimir/Talon, Swain/Vladimir
Overwatch: Zenyatta/Genji, Mondatta/Zenyatta, Reaper/McCree, Roadhog/Junkrat
Mistborn: Kelsier/Vin (strictly platonic)
Lord of the Rings: Haldir/Legolas
German Literature: Mephistopheles/Faust, Goethe/Schiller
Divergent: Four/Tris
The Hunger Games: Seneca Crane/Cinna, Finnick/Annie

Likes: I like anything, really. From the dark, messed up stuff right to the fluff, I'll be happy with anything as long as it doesn't break the characters involved too much, which might make fluff a bit hard considering that most of these ships are involving darker characters or messed up relationships. I'm also a big fan of alternate universe scenarios and domestic stuff, if appropriate.

Self-harm, death, suicide, torture, non-con, drug abuse, abusive relationships, unstable mental health, alternate universes (post apocalypse, "The Hunger Games", teens, ...)
but also: Fluff, domestic, anything sweet as long as it's appropriate

Dislikes: nsfw-scenarios involving animals, sex that's too graphic and doesn't make sense, mpreg, Google-Translated German, inappropriate comedy, genderbending

Anything else: I'm sorry that most of my ships are pretty obscure. I'll be happy with anything, really. :) Thank you so much for reading through all of this!


Reminder that NOTES are welcome too - just a nice little comment (either plain, or you can even type it up on a nice little graphic/image etc.) for the recipient.


(Comments are going to screened until the reveal on Feb 14. Lockers will be open until the end of Feb.)



 

Comments

[camalyng]

Hello, stranger! A little bittersweet Finnick/Annie for you.


The house is quiet when Finnick slips in from another stay in the Capitol, the last rays of sunlight stretching out across a lump of green tinted dough on a flour covered bench. Annie's not great at baking, but she likes the motions, likes turning her skill with knots to a different texture.

So she doesn't often stop in the middle.

Still carrying his Capitol bag, Finnick follows the small footsteps in the flour to the open door, and looks out to find Annie untying the boat at their little dock.

"Annie!"

She looks up and smiles, waving him over, and no time at all he's in the boat with her, dumping his bag down in favor of the oars.

"Leave it," she says, taking his hands off the oars.

"Just wanna drift today?"

Annie nods, and throws his bag into one end of the boat with the oars so she can curl up in his lap. Stretching out his legs to help balance is such a well practised movement for him that he doesn't even think about it, paying far more attention to stroking her hair.

It's not like they have to worry about drifting out to sea. Victor houses surround the District's largest freshwater pond, with an outlet too small to sail through. At least from here they can't see the fence on the ocean, supposedly there to keep the fish in.

"Welcome home," she says, because it's true, here with her in his arms and on the water is more of a home than the house they gave him for killing or the Capitol apartment they gave him for his body.

"Thanks," he says, and kisses her forehead. "How have you been?"

For a long moment, she's silent, and he waits for her to come back to him like she always does.

"You ever think about sailing away?" she asks eventually.

All the time, but for the fence in the water, the fledgling rebellion, and the other person he's protecting with his work in the Capitol. "Mags won't fit in the boat," he deflects, a reminder.

"There are bigger boats," she says, turning towards him to stare him down. "We'll steal one. We'll cut a hole in their net."

She's clearly been thinking about this. He raises an eyebrow. "And then what?"

Annie shrugs, deflating, and he knows she hasn't gotten further than the fence. "We disappear," she says. "It must be a big sea - lots of room for just one boat to get lost. We'll find somewhere without..." She waves a hand at the outlet, the mansions, and somewhere beyond it, the fence. "All of this."

"I'd like to find that," he says carefully. He and the alliance are looking for it right here.

"Okay," she says, and she tucks her head under his chin, which she only does if she intends to stay there for a while. "We'll look for it."

Finnick swallows. He hasn't told her about the rebellion - the less she knows, the safer she'll be.

[fickle]

HI THERE, ELINA! THANK YOU FOR JOINING AND NOT MAKING ME FEEL LIKE THE ONLY PERSON WHO LIKES WEIRD DARK STUFF.

So yeah, as a reward, have a Hunger Games AU Vladimir/Talon!

---------------------------------------------------------------
From the moment he saw the Tribute slice open another Tribute's throat with a jagged chunk of rock, Vladimir knew that he wanted the boy. He watched the Games avidly, pulse fluttering every time the Tribute flipped over a boulder or dropped down from a tree. The boy moved like a shadow cast by a swaying lantern, darting in and out between trees and twisting in mid-air with an acrobat's grace.

He hadn't snatched a backpack at the start of the Games; he'd had nothing but the weapons he fashioned himself.

That didn't matter. Three days in, he'd racked up a kill count of nine - four of which were Careers.

Vladimir watched him with hunger in his eyes and the taste of blood in his mouth. Careers were deadened to killing, trained all their lives to be able to slaughter without mercy. As good as they were, there was something dead in their eyes. Their souls had been paid over long ago.

This boy was different. He came alive when he killed, lethally quick and lovely. The cameras caught him once at the moment of a kill, zoomed in on his bright eyes and his lips peeled back from his teeth in a snarl; as soon as the cannon sounded, Vladimir was on the phone ordering a poster of that frame.

He'd put it in his bedroom. He'd make do with it until he could have the boy himself.

All Victors were for sale. Anyone in the right echelons of Capitol society knew that.

The trick was buying them early, before they got too worn down by the demands of the Capitol citizens and became as dead behind their eyes as the Careers. The earlier they were purchased, the costlier they were.

Blood sprayed across the screen as Talon's kill count ticked up to nine and Vladimir reached for the phone again.

Talon might not be the Victor yet but he knew the boy would win. Best to call Snow now and reserve Talon's first night.

Maybe, he thought with a twisted smile, if he paid enough, Snow would let him have Talon the moment the Victor came out of the Arena so Talon was still coated in blood and filled with adrenaline from killing.

The Games were always his favorite part of the year. He'd never been so eager for them to end before.

[(Anonymous)]

Aaaah, thank you so much! That was so sweet! I love how Finnick is protecting her. You can tell he wants them to be happy but he knows it's not possible the way they're living now but he also realizes that there isn't a sensible way out with how the events were unfolding.

Thank you, once again!
- Elina

[(Anonymous)]

Oh, I LOVE this! We talked about this scenario before and I can just imagine it SO well! You characterised Vlad beautifully, the rich noble who just can't wait to get his hands on a new toy, fresh off the rack. He doesn't care about the money he spends, the only thing he cares about is his personal satisfaction. It's hard not to completely dull down when you're living in abundance, he is so eager to get a kick. Perhaps it won't last long, yet it is worth it nonetheless.
He's glued to the screen, day and night, counting the seconds until he would have him for himself. HNNNNNG.
Thank you SO SO SO much!
- Elina