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moreespressoformydepresso · 9 months

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I’m working on a thing where all the tributes of the 10th Hunger Games won separate games, ultimately leading to president Snow getting his shit rocked because he sucked from the beginning and TBOSAS proved that, and I was thinking about how all the tributes would have won their games. The way you play the game and what led to your victory will probably have impact on how you cope and what exactly triggers PTSD. I’ve been mostly focused on Lamina and Treech because I love the district 7 tributes they’re built different, but I’ll try to come up with as many as possible for this list:

Velvereen was a career, and scored multiple kills while working with them, but ultimately the alliance broke apart as their members died off in their attempts to hunt down others. Velvereen, being less murder-happy, didn’t get revenge killed, nor did she get overwhelmed by a tribute she attacked, which left her as the last of the pack standing. She won because her last opponent used a melee weapon and she used throwing knives. Thanks to the advantage she had by not only having a long range weapon, but also a lifetime of training to hone her accuracy, she ended their would-be-battle swiftly and took the win.

Facet was also a part of the career pack, not necessarily hunting people down but going out of his way to kill whoever he came across that wasn’t a career. His weapon of choice was a spear, and he won by leaving the career pack when the water got a bit too hot under the team’s feet, and spearing the last tribute like a cannibal-style meat skewer.

Sabyn made full use of her superior health and knowledge of building structures in an urban arena. Aside from using her skill with the mace to bludgeon people to death, she also used it to hit all the weak points in the structures and collapsed walls on top of people. She took out the last remaining tributes by collapsing a building on top of them and killing off the survivors with her mace.

Marcus spent most of his games using his vastly superior physical strength and more well-fed state to his advantage, knowing most of his allies were waiting for the moment they thought they no longer needed him to get rid of him. His solution was to run awa- just kidding he killed them all in their sleep and used the intellect everyone thought he lacked for the rest of the games until the final fight, where he bashed the other tribute’s head into the rocks and then choked them to death.

Teslee wins her games by using her knowledge of electronics to reactivate the mines around the starting platforms and hiding in the cornucopia when there’s only four people left. When the mutts drive everyone to the middle of the arena, they’re subsequently blown up.

Circ wins his games in similar fashion to Teslee, except he gets forced to help the careers with his intellect and knowledge of technology. In response, Circ uses his intellect and knowledge of technology to trick the careers into protecting him and handing him weapons until he no longer needs them, then having the plan they made him execute literally blow up in their face and electrocuting several of them in the process. The last career is killed when Circ evades their attacks until they hit an electrical line with their fully metal weapon.

Coral probably won the same way she almost did in the movie. She was part of the career pack and made sure to be the one to backstab their allies first. There is no little brother figure for her to be worried about, nor are there snakes designed to kill every last person in the arena, so she has all the room and time she needs to handily shish kebab the last tribute and claim victory.

Mizzen doesn’t have as much brutal efficiency, nor the physique that Coral did even though I’m aging him up. He instead wins by mixing her strategy with the tried and true method of staying away from the things that could turn you into a pincushion. It’s like Marcus’ approach in reverse, starting with intellect and finishing with brute strength. He joins the careers, but as soon as things go slightly south he takes out the biggest threat when they aren’t paying attention and runs for the hills (or ocean, because district 4). He lures the last tribute to a body of water by pretending to run away and using the dark so they don’t see the cliff coming, and once they’re in his territory he uses his net to catch them and his trident or knife to finish them off.

Lamina cries so much in the lead up to the games that everyone, including her mentors, have given up on her. Once the games actually begin she surprises everyone with her strategy and skill with an ax, climbing a mountain high enough that people can’t kill her without going up themself and only coming down when she has to. When she does, she stockpiles water and food so she can stay up as long as possible while waiting for the others to whittle down the numbers. On one of her runs she finds a tribute who had a run in with the careers and was tortured almost to death. At their request, she puts them out of their misery. At the end of the games she’s barely got a scratch on her and is still at peak health for the circumstances. She’s forced to come down by the gamemakers, and all but one tribute is killed by the mutts. However, they’re so badly hurt that they beg her to just finish it and end their torment, at which point she hands out a second mercy kill.

Treech won his games by focusing on survival during training and pretending to be very bad at wielding an ax, only showing enough skill to avoid suspicion since he’s from the lumber district. He used good looks and charm during the interview to gain sponsors and talked about home to set up a proper sob story to get sympathy. He used the confusion of the cornucopia to snatch some of the supplies further away from the cornucopia and stays hidden from other tributes for the entirety of his games. Thanks to his stealing from everyone, including the careers, without getting caught, he has enough screen time to maintain his sponsors without putting himself in too much danger, especially before he gets his hands on an ax. His only kills occur during the final minutes of the games, where he jumps the last three careers once he realizes they won’t fight each other until he’s dead and waiting for the capitol to send mutts is more dangerous. He uses the element of surprise to jump the careers, cleaving one in the head and throwing his ax at the career with a long range weapon, before using his knife to injure the last tribute while stopping them from fatally wounding him until he manages to pull the ax from the body of the second career, turning to avoid a swing and gain momentum before swinging down and planting his ax in the last kid’s neck, killing them instantly.

Bobbin lost his arm in the games (I cannot see him as someone that isn’t Knox Gibson), and killed someone with a needle since he knows five ways to do exactly that. After losing his arm, he stayed alive by sewing it and several dangerous gashes closed so he wouldn’t bleed to death. He tripped the second to last other tribute using thread from his clothing and they got ripped to shreds by mutts that had been released into the arena. The last person was killed with that same thread, a brick, and yet again a needle.

Wovey used her perceived disadvantage (again, I cannot see a Wovey that isn’t Sofia Sanchez) by making everyone believe she’s weak. The arena was an industrial terrain not unlike district eight, which meant hiding was a piece of cake for her. Also, she used her knowledge of these kinds of buildings to lead whatever tribute was chasing her around until they were in a prime place for her to strike or ran into another tribute to strike for her. The last tribute was pushed into a machine, which crunched them to death.

Sheaf used her agility to her advantage, and luckily there was a sickle in the arena for her so her strategy became to rush at people with melee weapons, who would then predictably prepare to block a head-on attack, only to duck past them and cleave them in the back. She won her games by tiring her opponent out and decapitating them.

Panlo picks up on skills easily, and in the three days he had at the training centre he learned to shoot pretty decently with a bow and arrow. He’s best with a sickle, but they didn’t have those in his arena and he’d rather stay long range so bow and arrow it was. Nobody expected him to become so proficient so quickly, and since none of the careers used bows Panlo waited until after the bloodbath to run to the cornucopia and grab the set, as well as some supplies. He spent his games scoping out good sniper posts and shooting anyone who got too close for comfort, winning the games by waiting for the last two to finish duking it out and shooting the winner in the stomach, then finishing it with a shot through the chest.

Tanner won his games by joining an alliance (not the careers) and relying on their numbers to keep others from attacking him for as long as possible. During the final fight he uses his strength to wrestle the other person to the ground and uses his knife and experience from working in the slaughterhouses to gut them.

Brandy wins her games by using everything she knows from the slaughterhouses to kill the other tributes. During her last battle, she wrestles the other tribute to the ground and snaps their neck.

Dill is also aged up, and used her fragile state to play innocent before dropping all sorts of deadly things on people’s heads from the trees and poisoning them with her knowledge of agriculture.

Reaper is basically Thresh if Thresh hadn’t died so the capitol could have their star-crossed lovers death battle (you cannot tell me the storm didn’t have that exact purpose, the mutts are more ambiguous). Physically intimidating and strong, but deciding to lay low for most of the games rather than going on a rampant murder spree. He refuses to play the game and doesn’t kill anyone until he and one of the careers are the last two standing. The skirmish ends with Reaper scoring a revenge kill for his district partner, who was killed by this tribute.

Jessup used his strength to to intimidate the other tributes into steering clear of him. He joins the careers right until they’ve got one more dangerous tribute to get rid of, at which point he knows it’s time to cut his losses and run away. He keeps the careers alive, because he needs them to get rid of the other tribute and he’s lower on the priority list, but he knows that once that kid’s gone he’s the next to go. So he subtly stalls them until a night where it’s his turn to watch and grabs as many supplies as he can quietly get his hands on and leaves them behind. Another tribute stumbles across them and gets rid of half the pack, but that’s not Jessup’s concern. He wins the games by smashing a bottle over another tribute’s head and stabbing them to death with the shards.

Lucy Gray Baird wins by becoming the capitol favorite for her games. Her “performance” leads to her getting more sponsors than even some of the careers, which allows her to stay alive without having to put herself into much danger to get supplies. She wins by singing to snake mutts until they recognize her scent and stop attacking her, at which point she has venomous sentient weapons in her arsenal which she makes full use of, taking out two tributes with snake bites and ultimately distracting the last other tribute with them, using the opening it gives her to kill them.

I genuinely cannot think of anything for Hy, Sol, Ginnee or Otto for now, sorry 😅.

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leviathansshadycorner · 10 months

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Rope Him In ( Cato x District 10! Reader x slight! Marvel) Pt. 1

Summary: In which Cato falls for a tribute from 10.

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Chapter 1 : The Reaping

“And no matter what happens, just know that you’ll be alright. You’re going nowhere.” Amaranto, your older brother tries to sooth you. His man hands on your shoulder, making you look him in the eyes as he attempts to stop your sobbing. Teary eyed you just nodded your head. That was easy for him to say. He had reached the cut-off age only three months ago.

“I swear it’ll be alright.” He pulls you into a hug, his tan arms squeezing you to the point where you let out a small laugh.

“Alright…” You reply, wiping away your tears.

“Come on, maybe work will distract you.” He says, picking up his tin foil container which held the rice and eggs you had packed him and yourself.

It’s a little past 6 in the morning. The sun barely pushed the dark blue sky away to take its place. The reaping wouldn’t take place for about another 7 hours or so. Giving people enough time to cry over their loved ones, or finish their final trades before more peacekeepers flooded the area. The two of you decide to go into work today, even though they give off reaping days to the younger workers. You nervously headed out, eyes fixated on the pale yellow of your house, hoping it wouldn’t be the last time you saw it.

District 10, your home, never seemed more somber than on reaping day. The only other time you saw people’s moods this down was when the Capitol decided to take the horses away from the district as a punishment to those who tried to escape on them. Noises of chickens, cows, and pigs echoed throughout the empty space as you and Amaranto walked through the desolate farming sections. You had assumed the farmers were either at the markets trying to buy feed for their livestock, or out in the bar trying to get over the fact that their best farm hands could get taken from them.

The smell of fresh manure filled your nostrils as you neared some of the dairy cows. You hesitantly stopped, trying to keep in line with your routine, your hand reached up and rubbed the snout of a large spotted cow. Its markings were peculiar, since they all looked like rounded shapes rather than blotches of ink. “What I’d do to trade places with you.” You told the cow. Dairy cows were prized in this district, they were the only cows that weren’t sent off to be packaged into meat. They were the ones who got to live a long peaceful life, while their counterparts were met with a bloody fate.

“Come on (Y/n), the faster we get there, the faster we can eat lunch before the reaping.” Your brother said, already miles ahead of you.

District 10 was divided in its work. There were jobs in the production of dairy and eggs, the slaughterhouses, butchery , farming, breeding, and then there were the people who actually raised the livestock. Before making leather was moved to district 8, it belonged to 10. The breeders and farmers were people with a little bit more money than the rest. The breeders being where the smartest of 10 would use their knowledge of science and splicing to breed superior meats to send off to the capitol. Most kids in 10 spend their first few years working as farm hands and helping around in the creameries. The older ones take jobs in the killing and cutting of the meat. It was a shame that so much work went into something that its citizens couldn’t even have. The only good thing about 10 was that they got the capitol’s scraps. Small eggs the size of a cotton ball, cuts they deemed too disgusting to eat, cheese on the brink of its expiration, the list went on and on.

Amaranto and you worked at the slaughterhouse. Ever since your dad broke his leg, you both had to quit your jobs at Farmer Alfie’s and trade in your coveralls for white rubbery aprons. The slaughterhouse always smelled metallic. The smell of iron was one that would stay with you for as long as you live. The ceilings held fans, but they only helped so much to drive the smell away. Metal decorated walls and tables greeted you as you walked in. Your job was to drain the poor animal of its life. Walking past the pen of the to-be-killed animals felt hypocritical of you. You related a bit too much to the poor bovine creatures. Afterall, just like them, you were born to die.

“Dad’s in the building next to ours cutting up some lambs.” Amaranto said as he placed his lunch box in his locker. “And you know where to find me.” He finished, closing up the locker and turning to look at you. “If you feel like you can’t handle work today just go look for him or me ok?” He spoke, his kind voice reassuring you. Amaranto worked out with the men killing them. They were under the close eyes of peacekeepers, since their job was the only one requiring guns.

“Alright…” Was all you could muster up.

“Damn (Y/n), you’re quiet today.” Clarabell, the girl who was sweet on your brother, spoke from behind you. She was your coworker, and quite literally your only friend. “My my, and why is it that you are wearing that gorgeous top to work?” She asked with a fake scolding voice.

“She’s nervous about the reaping.” Amaranto told her as they both exchanged a flash of worry about you.

“I thought I’d get dressed before coming in today, since I don’t think I’d get out in time to change.” You had gotten up early in the morning to go out of your way to put on your reaping clothes. It’s not like you anticipated the event, rather you felt that getting ready earlier would be better than struggling to change an hour before the reaping.

“Oh come on (Y/n)-ie, you know nothing’s going to happen right? The chances of you getting picked are like the chances of your brother deciding I’m finally lady-like enough to marry.” The girl said, trying to throw some humor at you.

“C-can we just work?” Came your reply, dry and hasty. You didn’t want to talk about the reaping anymore. You just wanted to distract yourself from your possible death sentence.

Clarabell gave you a sympathetic hug, draping her dark red hair on your face as she nuzzled into your shoulder. “Sweet girl, you’ll be fine.” She said, then going to grab her apron. You followed, grabbing your own and shakily putting it on over your baby blue gingham dress shirt.

“No- no, here.” Clarabell said as she took off the shirt she was wearing. “You are not getting your pretty little self all bloodied before the reaping.” She said, tossing the shirt at you.

“I can’t.”

“Oh I think you will.” And like that her shirt was now on top of yours. It was stupid of you to wear your best shirt to work, now making people sacrifice theirs for you. Saying goodbye to your brother as he turned and left for work, you finally tied your apron on, and the two of you joined the others for work.

Time passed and the sun arose. Its heat raining down on 10. The only perk about working here was that they were always blasting cold air into the building. The clock seemed like it was against you, time moving both quickly and at a skin crawling pace. Clarabell tried to distract you, but the deep feeling in your stomach only sunk further. Eventually you couldn’t handle it anymore, and went to go speak with your father.

You hung up your apron. You hadn’t noticed how bloody your clothes had gotten until you took it off. “Damn.” You cursed looking over at the redhead. “I’m sorry Clara- I’ll wash it and bring it back to you I swear.”

The older girl just laughed, “It’s alright, now go on- enjoy yourself, go frolic with the sheep, or kiss some boys-” She teased as she waved to you.

You walked alongside the dirt path that connected the slaughterhouse and the butcher’s corners. Many of the men recognized you as your fathers daughter, greeting you as you sped through the halls and into the area where your father was sitting. Your heart stopped when you saw him, on his wheelchair working on slicing some skin off of a cut of meat. This was probably the last time you’d see him like this.

You didn’t know why, but a feeling of impending doom told you that you’d be chosen as one of the kids to die in the arena.

“Hey Papa.” You greeted. His dark head of hair shifted up to look at you. He smiled for a brief second, his serious expression returning. “What are you doing here (N/n). Didn’t they give you the day off?” He asked, his voice deep and old.

“They did, but Amar thought working today would distract me.” Your eyes shifted from the meat he was cutting to his face.

“I see.” He spoke.

“Just wanted to check up on you.” You tugged at the sleeves of your shirt, failing to realize that you hadn’t washed the blood on your hands thoroughly enough and staining the light material.

“Thank you dear.” You knew why your Father wasn’t saying much. In fact he was just like you, not speaking much because he was scared. He was scared to lose you like how he had lost your mother.

“I love you Papa.” You said, reaching out to hug him.

“Look, you’re going to be fine. If you get picked or not, you’re from 10. Remember that. The district of hard-ass cowboys alright? Now you’re a badass (Y/n), so don’t let fear get to ya.” He said, turning around to hug you tight.

Tears fell down your cheeks at his words. Nodding your head you agreed with his words. You couldn’t let fear get to you. Everyone had been saying that your chances of getting picked were slim, so they must be right.

…

The cries of children and mothers alike took the place of the bleating animals. Peacekeepers were now circling the district, lining up people with their guns as they ushered them to the square. The commotion made for some of the animals to go loose, but no one cared about them anymore. All that mattered to the peacekeepers was getting everyone to go witness the death of two children from home.

You were already in line waiting to get your finger pricked. You watched as some of the older kids looked more relaxed. Your heart sank when you met the eyes of a teary eyed 12 year old. She looked at you with a scrunched up red and puffy face. All you could offer her was a somber smile.

“God I know how them cows must be feeling.” A blonde girl spoke to her friend behind you. Flashes of the meat cows came into your brian. You had watched Amar do his job a while back, shocked at how he was able to go through with it.

All you remember is the cow’s poor innocent eyes as it awaited its fate. The gun was raised and aimed smack dab in the middle of its head.

Boom

You jumped at the feeling of a needle puncturing your skin. You went to lick it, once again failing to notice the blood on your hands. Of course. You had forgotten to wash this off after helping your dad out with a few of his work. Sighing with no other choice, you wiped your hands on the sides of your shirt. Making your way to stand with your age group, you looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of anyone familiar.

Met with Clarabell ’s green eyes you felt more relaxed, soon catching a view of Amaranto’s face. He looked stern, serious, almost like your father. In fact he was the exact clone of your Father when he was younger. Speaking of which you couldn’t find. Your Father must have been further back. A part of you was glad you couldn’t see him. You knew you’d burst out in tears if you did.

“Welcome, Welcome!” A sultry voice came from the stage. Everyone turned their attention to the announcer. It was a tall asian man, wearing a tan outfit consisting of pants longer than his legs, and a dress shirt littered with feathers that made it seem as if his whole upper body was a chicken. Along with the outfit he wore a hen on top of his slicked dark indigo hair. Pradain Alcomore, District 10’s announcer. Nobody could stop staring. Had he dressed like this in honor or in ridicule of the district?

“Boy is it hot.” The announcer then said, wiping the sweat of his brow with a handkerchief. He placed it back in his pants pocket, returning to holding the microphone.

“Welcome All to the annual reaping.” He said scanning the crowd for a reaction. “As you all know, a male and female tribute are to be selected to participate in the 74th hunger games.” He said with a toothy grin as he made jazz hands to the crowd. “Right then, roll the tape!” He commanded.

As he ordered the tape you had all memorized begins to play, its music the only thing making sound aside from the sniffles of children.

“Wonderful, that never gets old.” He giggles to the crowd as he gets their attention back.

“Alright then, let's begin shall we.” He dipped his hands into the fish bowl, swirling it around a couple more times than was necessary.

Being one of the poorer districts meant your name was in there more than you would’ve liked it to be. Amar scolded you when he found out what you did, but he figured since he managed to survive the reaping you would too. You only hoped he was right.

You watched as people held hands in nervousness, awaiting to hear the first name drawn. There was a deadly silence.

Pradain opened the slip, a smile on his face as he announced to the world the female tribute from district 10.

“(Y/n) Cuernos.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to scream but not a drop of voice came out. The ringing in your ears began as people around you began to back away, allowing a path to be made in front of you. The path that would lead you to death.

Clarabell’s soft sobs were what lured you back into reality. She mouthed the words sorry as you passed by, turning around to see if your brother was crying too. When you did find him he was on his knees, a friend of his trying to console him. You could only imagine what your father was thinking. As you looked around you spotted him, his face as serious as ever. You knew if he made eye contact with you he’d burst out yelling, so you continued to walk the path up to the stage.

“Come Come dear, time is ticking.” Pradair says as you step up. The cameras follow you, focused on your back as you walk. “My what a fashion choice.” He speaks as he notices the blotches of red staining your shirt.

You can’t cry. You can’t. And as you feel your face get warm, look up at the gigantic screen displaying your fear filled eyes. Your hair is braided into two braids, it makes your face look gigantic. The baby blue gingham shirt stained with cows blood looks exhausted, making you look like filth in the eyes of the people watching, or so you assume. The overalls you thought to wear covered the cowboy boots on your feet. You never noticed how long the pant legs were. You hadn’t noticed how much you looked like your mother.

“Onto the boy!” Pradain then says as he shuffles to the other end of the stage to pull out the male tribute’s name.

“Buckley Wheaton!” He calls out and you watch a mother scream for her boy. He’s around your age, though muscular and older looking. No doubt he’d be the winner out of the two of you. He went to school with you, only speaking to you when asking for answers to questions. Other than that the two of you were total strangers. The brunette looked unfazed, but deep inside you knew he was as scared as you.

“Let’s give them a hand!” Pradair says, and the people only place their hands to their hearts.

#fanfic #xreader #cato #cato hadley #marvel #hunger games #74th hunger games #romance #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #district 10 #the hunger games fanfiction #reader insert #x reader

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levi501ackerman · 1 month

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Steel Heart Chapter 15:

The Man in the Forest

Hange x Reader Chapter Index Masterlist

Megan's Note: For the vibe of this chapter listen to "Maleficent's Theme" by Tchaikovsky. Or look up and listen to the song "Maleficent's Evil Spell" from George Burn's adaptation for the Disney version of Sleeping Beauty. You'll know the vibe instantly. I also feel like you'll figure out when to play it LOL! Posted: 8/23/24

Word Count: 4.3k

After a filling dinner of roasted chicken, most knights were ready to go to bed. When twilight was cast over the sky, the camp called it a night and headed off to bed. The following morning, the plan was to eat, pack, bathe, and then ride to a farm owned by the Reeves family—a father-and-son company with close ties to the Royal family and the Kingdom.

Dimo and his son Flegel made their wealth by building a large company with different farms near the districts. The company handles and distributes meat and produce to markets in every district and nearby villages. The farm that Hange said they were heading to in the morning was a farm that happened to be Flegel’s main residence—a spice farm growing and distributing goods such as saffron, wasabi, and other common spices.

Levi gave you a second cup of tea with a higher dose of the sleeping pills, then packed away the empty kettle. You stayed by the fire while Levi and the knights packed up the camp. Since being in the forest, the air was cooler and the shadows of the knights were eerier. The knights walking back and forth to the horses would disappear out of sight once leaving the illumination of the fire. You could barely make out who was approaching the camp until crossing the threshold of the light. Would you have time to react if an unwanted person came from the shadows?

Hange emerged from the tent, holding a lit candle and a bag and walking to the dark abyss. They disappeared out of sight nearly instantly and made you feel alone. You looked around at the desolate campsite and decided to return to the tent. As you went further from the fire, the chill air crept onto your back and neck. The feeling that someone was watching you made the hairs on your neck stand up. You gripped your cloak and hurried into the tent. You could barely make out the silhouette of the table and chairs in the tent.

You knew Hange’s story was something they made up to scare you, but the feeling of being watched didn’t leave you. It’s something that could happen. A Marleyan Cult member hiding amongst the trees watching and waiting to take you. You carefully walked to your bedroll, removed your cloak and crawled inside. You noticed you were holding your breath and released it.

I’m safe with Hange

A light appeared in the tent and Hange returned. You noticed their shirt didn’t have the dirt stain on the front. Then you realized Hange was wearing the pale yellow collared long-sleeve shirt. You and Hange weren’t twins anymore.

“Why aren’t you wearing the matching white shirt, Hange?” You whined.

“Oh, the shirt with the dirt on it?” Hange put their free hand on their hip and raised their eyebrows skeptically.

“Duh,” Hange scoffed, then chuckled to themselves. “We aren’t twins anymore!”

“So that’s what your whining is about?” Hange grabbed the white shirt from out of a bag that was on the table. “You’re pouting about not being twins, huh?”

“UGH!”

“The Princess wants me to wear a dirty shirt just so we can twin,” Hange said, licking their thumb and wiping the stain of dirt. “It’s not coming off—I’ll wash it in the river tomorrow,” they said to themselves.

“Can you wear it? Please?!?!”

“I can’t say no to Princess Y/N,” Hange turned around and unbuttoned their pale yellow shirt. You turned over in your bedroll, giving them privacy. You wanted to peek at their body, but the thought of getting caught was embarrassing. If Hange caught you, you wouldn’t know how to explain yourself. Plus, bathing in the river makes it easier to gaze at Hange’s body. “Alright! We’re twins again!”

“GOOD!” You turned over to see Hange’s arms up, presenting themselves in the white shirt! The top three buttons were undone, pleasantly revealing their cleavage. Thank goodness you were far enough away for Hange not to be able to distinguish where you were looking. Now that you were alone again, you wanted to know Hange’s dating history. The girls' names, what they looked like, or what they were like as Hange’s girlfriend. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you were confused about why you were nervous about asking Hange. They were dismissive of your questions earlier about their dream girl. Earlier, you speculated that Hange didn’t want to share about their past relationship. Perhaps you could ask one more time and if they didn’t want to share, you wouldn’t bring it up. At least you’d try. “Hey, I was wondering something . . .”

“Oh yeah? Let me take two more bags and I’ll be all yours!” Hange held the candle in one hand and leveraged two bags in the other. As they walked out of your shared tent, you contemplated how you would approach Hange on the possibly sensitive topics. Maybe ask with a preface of only sharing what they want. Perhaps lie to Hange? Tell them you have only asked these questions to help with your future relationship with a stranger. Fairy Godmothers Christa and Ymir wouldn’t approve. Those two would slap you and tell you they didn’t raise a liar. Though they did withhold information about your life, wasn’t that a lie?

Your heart continued to pound and the anticipation of asking Hange clouded your thoughts. You stared at the side of the tent and it was like you couldn’t hear or feel anything—only think. It wasn’t a big deal just ask Hange. They were your friend. You toyed with the fabric of your bedroll, balling it between your index finger and thumb. When Hange came back into the tent, you could hear them shivering. Their shoulders were to their ears and they were holding themselves.

“It’s so cold out there,” Hange said as they walked to their bedroll and placed the small candle on the ground. The low light created an effortless glow to illuminate their pleasant features. Hange’s thick lashes behind their glasses were feminine and doe-like.

Woah.

“U-Uh . . .”

“Is something wrong, my dear?”

“I um—I was just thinking of something?”

“Care to share?” Hange turned around and began undressing themselves. You wanted to turn away from them, but truly, you were enamored. Your mouth was agape, and thoughts swirled in your head. Even though Hange was interested in girls, how could the knights around the camp pay attention with them around? Some of the knights must be crushing on Hange. Hange set their glasses down and sighed.

“I was just thinking—thinking about my marriage to Prince Marco—” You sounded unsure and with the realization you could play it off as nerves, you continued confidently. Though Hange’s naked body was right next to you, the top of the tent looked really cool. “—Thinking about how to be a good girlfriend. What do you think makes a good girlfriend?”

“You mean a wife?”

“Yeah, that.” Hange crawled into the bedroll and pulled it up to their neck. You noticed Hange was facing you and proceeded to mirror them, knowing it was safe to look. They had their eyepatch on still and you pulled the covers all the way to your neck.

“That’s a long answer, Princess,” Hange whispered as the outside camp became silent and the knights headed to bed. “I’m afraid it depends on the person, but a good baseline is being a good communicator, compatible, and respectful mostly. Arranged marriages are standard for royal families; married couples typically learn to love each other. Or at least be on a friendly level.”

“Friendly?” You whispered and Hange nodded.

“The marriages aren’t for love; it's to unite the royal families for trade or for allies.” Your heart sank at Hange’s words and the thought of your marriage being for a price other than love. It felt like a heavy, unknown cloud of responsibilities looming over you. “You’re going to be Queen and be the Ruler of the Walls.”

“What about Prince Marco?” Hange scoffed and revealed a dimple on their face from smiling. The dimple on their cheek gave Hange an added cuteness and adorable aura to their face.

“Yes, the King is important, but really, the Queen is worshiped by all. I mean, she’s growing the heir. The Queen is the one who holds the bloodline of the Royal family. A man could wander the earth not knowing they have a child with multiple women, but every woman will know if an heir is theirs.” The thought of submitting yourself to the unknown Prince Marco to conceive an heir made you feel uneasy and . . . violated. You didn’t want to do that. But maybe it was not as bad as it seems—maybe it’s something you’ll learn to enjoy, like how you’ll learn to love a stranger.

“Hange . . . what’s a good partner for you?” Their eyes darted away from you and there was a hesitance behind their voice. “You don’t have to answer I just—I just don’t want to think about making heirs with a stranger.”

“That’s quite understandable, Y/N.” There was a pause from Hange. They were gathering their thoughts, and you hoped Hange would share about their past relationships.

“I prefer a girl who is fun. They make me laugh and don’t let the weight of their problems always weigh them down. Also intelligent and have a vested interest in learning more about the world. Knowing there’s so much more we haven’t discovered! And I guess loyalty. But in the end, most relationships come down to compatibility, respect, and mutual devotion.”

“Levi told me that relationships also have to deal with going through hardships together, willingly.” Hange brought their hand from out of their bedroll and tapped your nose. You smiled fondly, knowing that they were going to do that.

“Levi was right.” The candle flame flickered and the wax droplets raced down the candle stick and gathered at the brass candle holder. “There are many types of hardships that can affect relationships. Outside forces and inner conflicts . . . I dated a girl who had a hard time accepting her attraction to girls. She finally felt confident and told her parents, but her father was unhappy. He loomed over her, being the devil on her shoulder and eventually, she ended our relationship.” Hange admitted and you looked away from them. When Hange was telling the story, they didn’t sound sad, it must have been a long time ago and they had time to heal from the pain that was brought by that girl—the girl who wasn’t willing.

“I’m so sorry, Hange . . .” You whispered.

“Don’t be. Another example of a hardship is when I lost my eye. I was dating a girl and learning to accept my new appearance. In the end, I let my insecurities get to me and I thought she wanted to be with prettier girls and so I ended it . . .” Hange rolled onto their back and closed their eye. You studied their face. The lovely features from their aquiline nose to their soft lips all complement each other to create their face—the face in oil paintings and the face you like looking at.

“Hange . . . you are really pretty, please believe me! But I also don’t care what you look like. I care more about who you are; you, Hange Zoe, are my best friend.” Hange didn’t react to your praise. It was like they were deciding to do something—to choose how to respond to you. They breathed evenly for a few moments, and then, under their breath, they spoke.

“That’s because you are a kind soul, Princess. Through the horrors you’ve seen, you remained kind. Even after the Marleyan Cultists captured you, you still don’t hate them . . . only feared them.” You didn’t know how to respond. Should you hate the Marleyan Cult? You only hated that they were hunting you. You didn’t even know of the Marleyan Cult until you escaped Shiganshina with Sir Miche Zacharius. Though you were with many knights, you wanted to learn how to defend yourself if needed. Levi and Sir Zacharius told you that all the knights would lay down their lives for you, and they have, but you still want to learn to defend yourself.

“Hange . . . I’ve been wanting to learn how to fight and I know I can’t learn to be great in just one day, but maybe some tricks on how to not be helpless?” Hange’s eye fluttered open and they craned their neck toward you. Then, their fondness grew.

“You have tackled me twice already and slapped Eren pretty hard,” then Hange started snickering to themselves.

“What?”

“I’m just imagining, little ole, you tackling some big man,” Hange amusingly giggled and their contagious nature caused you to join in. “But anyways, Levi would be a good person to ask because he has great instincts. Plus, he knows how to go against people twice his size.”

“Okay, that is a good idea. Maybe he can teach me or give me tips during downtime! The only thing I know is Sir Zacharius told me to go for the neck and kick them in the balls,” Hange burst out loudly. They couldn’t contain their laughter and their shoulders were jiggling up and down. They slapped their bedroll as they caught their breath.

“He would tell you that,” Hange reached for the brass ring along the candle holder and clutched it between their thumb and index finger. “We should go to sleep.” The tent became pitch black when Hange blew out the candle. You felt pleased that Hange opened up about some of their past relationships. Hange’s story of the girl who had trouble accepting their feelings for girls stayed with you. It confused you.

“Hange . . . ?” You whispered.

“We should sleep, Princess Y/N.”

“One more question!”

“Okaaayy, what?”

“Why did the girl have difficulty accepting she liked girls?” Hange sighed and you heard them shift in their bedroll.

“Could be because she heard her father disprove of girls dating each other all her life. Could be because she expected herself to marry a man. Could be because deep down inside, she didn’t like girls dating each other and didn’t expect to be attracted to me. Her environment. Her circumstances.” You thought about your home in the cottage with Christa and Ymir. They raised you to be accepting and kind to others. Your Fairy Godmothers were in love and together. They raised you and your only exposure to love was Christa and Ymir. Ymir made sure there were fresh flowers in the vase on the table and threw out the dead ones before Christa saw them. They enjoyed each other’s company and were a team. They were devoted to one another and helped each other. You wanted a love like that. But for some reason you didn’t want that with Prince Marco Bodt.

“Hange, how did you know you wanted to date girls?” There was a pause and the dark abyss of the tent comforted you while you waited for their reply. You held your breath, wanting to know the moment it clicked for Hange. Did they see a girl’s naked body? Did Hange have some girl save their life or give them a thoughtful gift? Perhaps Hange was just Hange. Or they met a girl that changed their life—the light in the darkness.

“When you know, you know.”

Hange’s words stayed in your mind as you tried to fall asleep. You shivered in your bedroll. You had more layers than Hange, yet you were the one freezing. In the dark, you felt around for the brass candle holder. You felt the rim of the brass saucer and moved your fingers around the edges, feeling for the circular handle. Then, you carefully moved the candle from between you and Hange to the other side of you.

While in your bedroll, you shuffled closer to Hange. You got close enough and felt the lump of their body against your side. They didn’t move away from you and you were pleased they let you snuggle next to them. Warmth radiated off of them and after a while, you felt your eyelids droop as you faded to sleep.

You didn’t expect to wake up; it was still dark out. You felt an ache between your legs and groaned when you realized you needed to use the restroom. If Levi hadn’t given you a second cup of tea, you might have been able to wait until morning to use the restroom. The wind softly blew the leaves of the trees rhythmically, and it felt colder than it had been earlier in the evening. There was a faint noise outside, sounding like a chorus.

“Hange . . . ?” You shook Hange and they groaned. “Hange! I really need to use the restroom.” You whispered and they groaned and shifted in their sleep.

“I’m naked,” Hange mumbled and was barely audible.

“I know I’m sorry, but I need to go!” You whispered desperately. Hange shifted in their sleep and then said nothing else. You rocked them, hoping they would be annoyed with your persistence. “Hange Zoe, I have to pee really bad!”

“Take the candle and have one of the knights on rotation escort you. There should be four guarding the camp!” Hange said, half asleep. “Pee behind the tent if you need to.”

Hange went still again, and their even breaths returned. You just needed to go quickly. It’ll take less than a minute, and then you could drift back to sleep next to Hange. You felt around for the brass handle of the candle holder. When your fingertips felt the saucer, you pulled it closer, and then you felt around for your boots.

With the candle in hand and your boots on, you stood up and shivered from the cold, hitting more of your body. You figured you didn’t need your cloak because you’d be quick and slowly walked toward the table. You grunted when your hip hit the table. You felt the surface of the smooth tabletop and placed the candle on the table. A small box was on the table and you opened it and dug inside for a match. You felt the head of the match with your fingers. Then you struck the head against the side of the box and fire spewed from the tip.

The candle lit up the tent faintly, and Hange was deep asleep and unbothered by the light. You carried the candle in front of you and carefully exited the tent. The camp was dark, nearly pitch black. In the distance were four specks of light—knights with their own light source. You carefully looked at the ground and walked toward the closest one.

“Hello?” You whispered into the abyss and the light in the distance shifted. As you came closer, the flame in the distance approached. When you were a few feet away from each other, you saw a man with really short hair like Connie’s and you recognized him talking to Eren, Jean, and Connie. He trained with them when they were younger.

“Your Highness? Is something wrong?” He whispered and his skinny eyebrows furrowed.

“Franz . . . right? I—uh, need to use the restroom and Hange’s asleep. They told me to have one of the guards escort me . . .” Franz Kefka blushed and stared at you. He was caught off guard by the request. “I’ll be quick. Just go with me into the forest and then give me privacy . . .”

“Right, I’ll protect you, Princess Y/N.” He said, and you both used your candles as a guiding light. You carefully walked and avoided tripping over the rocks and twigs on the ground. Chills were on your back, and you felt like you were being watched. You followed Franz into the forest. Franz drew his sword, and you looked around the dark abyss as if looking would help you see better. “We don’t need to go far since it’s dark. Just go ahead and I’ll be here if anything happens.”

“T-Thank you, Sir Kefka,” But something was holding you back from leaving Franz’s side. A foreboding feeling and the hairs standing on your neck did not help. The ache between your legs was about to burst, so you went a couple of trees in front of Franz.

When you were a few trees away from him, you set your candle on the ground. You looked over your shoulder to see Franz’s flame in the distance. You couldn’t see him, and he couldn’t see you. Behind a tree trunk, you undressed yourself. You held the small dagger inside your boot as you urinated on the ground. You felt better after releasing yourself and quietly put on your clothes. There was an odd noise in the distance and you froze.

Your heart raced and you shoved your boots on and picked up your candle. The trees stood large and tall, surrounding you. You heard it again—the noise. It sounded like a chorus. You gasped and looked around, but only the abyss of darkness was seen. You pivoted toward Franz’s light, but the sound of your name in the wind had you frozen in place.

Did I just hear . . . ?

The chorus of your name dared you to walk deeper into the forest. Chills were on your cheeks and your breath was visible before you. You could barely breathe and your shoulders tensed up.

Someone was calling your name.

The pleasant chorus called your name again, beckoning you.

Like a trance.

You held out your candle and listened to the chorus—a sinister falsetto among the trees deep within the forest. You obeyed the voice calling for you and walked further from the camp. Your hand shook as you held out your knife. There was a crunch of twigs under your boots, and you passed trees, searching for the voice.

The chorus lured you away from the camp. The twist in your stomach told you to turn around—to not follow the voice. But the temptation from the song of your name was controlling you.

Follow the voice.

Give in to the calls.

Franz’s light was invisible behind you and the melody of your name stopped. Was this where they wanted you? You followed the call obediently and you listened for another call. You swore someone was calling your name. Then you sighed and turned to go back to camp.

Your breath hitched. A few feet away, a silhouette of a man stood, his eyes glowing in the abyss.

“F-Franz?” You were shaking as you held your candle toward the glowing eyes. Your eyes went wide when your candle's flame glowed on the stranger’s face. The tall man wore a suit of armor—yet he was a man you had never seen before. His piercing gaze made your heart jolt. He held a crested sword like the Knights of the Royal King’s Guard. Something inside you screamed for you not to trust the stranger. When he stepped toward you, your stomach flipped. The stranger's blonde hair had stains of blood and there was blood on the gorget of his armor.

You shrieked and ran toward the camp. You raced away, hoping help would come. From deep inside you, you let out another guttural scream. Tears filled your eyes and your heart was in your throat.

“HELP!” You ran dodging trees and gasping for air. “FRANZ! HANGE!” Your feet pounded the ground, and you felt a pinch in your lungs. Tears were staining your face and the burn of running inflamed your throat. In the distance, you could see Franz’s flame coming toward you. The two of you rammed into each other and you screamed in his face, “THERE’S A MAN IN THE FOREST!” You cried and Franz’s mouth gaped open and his eyes went wide. The three other guards that were on rotation ran to you and Franz. You wailed and had trouble catching your breath. One of the guards told the other to alert Captain Levi and Commander Dame Hange. You wheezed as you cried and then fell to the ground on your knees.

“Princess!” Franz bent down to your feeble form. He forcefully got you on your feet as you wailed and walked you toward the camp.

“WE’RE BEING WATCHED! THERE WAS A MAN IN THE FOREST!” You bawled. The tears were blinding you. More knights came up to you and you screamed, feeling overwhelmed and like everyone was going to hurt you.

“Calm down!” You heard Levi’s commanding voice. You were struggling to breathe and felt dizzy. The darkness was tricking you and you couldn’t tell where you were. Knights came out of their tent to check on your loud sobs. Franz led you to a log that you recognized was around the campfire. You whimpered and wiped your tears as you were forced to sit on the log. A group of knights surrounded you, intently waiting for you to calm down. You felt comforting hands on your back as you caught your breath. Levi, Jean, Connie, Eren, Franz, and more knights were seen from the candlelight.

“I saw a man in the forest!” You pointed toward the abyss.

“She’s distraught,” Levi said and he turned to Franz, “What happened?”

“She needed to use the bathroom, so I escorted her. Then I gave her privacy, and she ran back screaming about seeing a man,” Franz’s voice wavered.

“Damn it! I knew Hange’s joke would spook her,” Levi said.

“NO! I saw him! There was a blonde knight with a crested sword and he was covered in blood,” You wailed. Their faces froze and you could tell they didn’t know what to say. Hange then appeared in the group and you noticed they were wearing your cloak. They held it, covering themselves and then crouched next to you. You sprung yourself on Hange, wrapping your arms around their neck. They held you as you calmed down and then they stroked your back. “We’re being watched,” you choked out.

“Levi, she said the knight was blonde and had a crested sword,” You heard Jean’s voice. “Could he have been Erwin Smith?”

next chapter Chapter 16: These Inconvenient Fireworks

chapter index masterlist

#attack on titan #hange zoe #hanji zoe #hange x reader #hange x you #hanji x reader #hange zoe x reader

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scopophilic1997 · 20 days

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scopOphilic_micromessaging_1078 - scopOphilic1997 presents a new micro-messaging series: small, subtle, and often unintentional messages we send and receive verbally and non-verbally.

Another flashback, this time to 2003 in the Meat Packing District. Upgraded my digital camera to a Fuji (1024x768) which was a big improvement.

Can anyone identify this location? It looks nothing like this now. And, bonus points if you can tell what music video was shot here in 1984.

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tau1tvec · 2 months

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Can't believe ea expects me to pay $40 for something so middling tbh. The pack looks fine, and I'll watch a review before passing final judgment, but I'm not blown away.

The world looks good tho

Well it is EA, mid for a premium price is kinda their thing.

I don’t mind the idea of the pack, I’m always up for adding more depth to preexisting gameplay, but in my mind Expansions should be equal parts expanding what gameplay is there, introducing new aspects of gameplay, 2-3 new interactive objects ( that aren’t necessities ie the horse trough ) a world with at least 3 districts.

The last EP I really enjoyed was Growing Together, because it had:

Expanded family gameplay, including the milestones system for infants who were added to BG, and included new interactions and animations and relationship dynamics between age groups

Added loosing teeth, power walking, staying over

Included interactive objects like the scrabble/puzzle table, treehouse, and sleeping bags

San Sequioa had three districts

From what I’ve seen, this new pack might qualify for two of these, emphasis on might. The only interactive objects I’ve seen is the blanket, costume trunk and the hotel, which the latter I don’t even feel comfortable counting bc it’s giving the HSY ferris wheel. They could’ve made it better, but they didn’t, whether bc of time or engine restraints.

Otherwise dating, and even the dating app falls into the expansion category for me bc your sims could have dates already, and previous packs added new apps themselves.

The only part that feels truly new is the new traits ( ??? ), and attraction system, which tbh, much like the infant milestones feels like it’s just them paywalling the meat of the potatoes we got in the free update.

Either way, like you, I’m gonna wait until the livestream to see it for myself, bc the worst part of all this is that the chances of it working as intended will be the biggest unknown of the entire pack, as has been the issue of many previous ones before it.

I guess the only sure thing I can say about it rn is I’m excited to see what the modders will do with it? 😆

#asks #anon

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theflytrap · 6 months

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#nyc #standard hotel #meat packing district

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evita-shelby · 3 months

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They didn't know we were seeds

Chapter 18

Cw: unhealthy coping mechanisms? Roleplay, implied uniform kink

@justrainandcoffee @emotionalcadaver @call-sign-shark @peakyswritings

The 73rd are won by Magnus, a boy trained by him.

Jack is celebrated for it, and he wishes he could stop playing Mr. Nice Guy try to beat some sense into all of them.

“How the fuck do you do it, Lyme?” he asks the blonde woman forced to endure this hell since her Hunger Games a good 20 years ago.

“With great control.” The blonde nurses a drink and keeps an eye on him as if he were a child.

He hasn’t been the same since Gina’s death last year, he is trying to do better, but even his gang knows the risks he’s taking are not just out of bravery.

Jack’s almost been caught several times, especially in 11, where security is tighter after they caught on to people being smuggled out in shipments. He doesn’t know how he was able to get out of there without blowing his cover.

As the kid’s mentor he’s to go on tour with him, giving him a chance to see Eva. He is too impatient to wait for that and leaves the moment he is no longer needed.

Taking advantage of the excess security in districts, he dons his fake identity and gets himself into District 10.

Sejanus Smith is just another dime a dozen grunt sent out to ensure no rioting happens when the bodies return to their families. The male tribute this year had been bludgeoned to death by his tribute and word on the street was that his mother had spent the night in a holding cell in her grief induced rage.

Sometimes they blame the mentors, Jack’s lost count how many times they take it out on him. The cute barista he used to flirt with ten years ago had lost her only sister this time and now he’s barred from her establishment.

Eva fares better than he did. The fruit vendor whose daughter died this year ignores her as she goes about her day in the open-air market in town and the boy who shines shoes to survive looks at her with pity as if his elder sister and only family hadn’t died by Gina’s hand last year.

10 is not how he remembers it. They had more color than most due to its former culture bleeding through Panem’s forced poverty, they made do with what they have and yet laugh and sing amidst the oppression.

How Plutarch and the ringleaders didn’t see the value in them as allies was beyond Jack.

They speak their language in secret, they sing their songs and dance their dances in perpetual rebellion. Once you learn to sing while you suffer, you don’t ever forget how, Eva had chuckled when he asked her about it.

10 also holds indispensable foods, foods you can’t risk losing because it comes with a shorter shelf life. It had been incredibly difficult to get powdered milk and cereals from 11 to 13, even with Gale’s input and the other rebels he has been able to connect himself with, there has not been a way to send meat or any livestock byproduct out of Panem.

Eva has a contract with slaughterhouses and warehouses that for the right price turn a blind eye to her bending the rules. The Capitol only allowed them to keep what was necessary resulting in high as hell prices and rationing even for the townies when shit got dire. There had to be a way to get at least something out of here.

And because he’s using his tricked-out helmet ---thanks to Bettee who knew his craft better than anyone else--- to find the warehouses and packing factories with dubious allegiances he loses Eva in the crowd.

His lovely wife caught on that he was following her; he thought with a smirk. The chase was on.

She is not difficult to find, his helmet locks in her and gives him everything the Mountain’s databases have on her. Victor, mother to his son, part of their possible rebel watch list.

That she was somehow seen more as a threat than Jack was frankly insulting.

He was a hunter, hunting and tracking down the other tributes had been how he won. The Bloodbath had earned him his sword and the leader’s role in the pack, but it was his tracking skill that got him his seven kills. Jack had hoped to one up his mentor and trainer, Brutus, but Juno had also been gunning for #1.

Now as he followed the mother of his child like a good predator, he found the thrill of the hunt as strong as it had been as a teen.

Jack didn’t expect to find this all so…arousing.

His wife cut a fine figure in her tight jeans, jeans he’s unzipped so many times and once even with his mouth. Her hair is loose and wavy, Jack loves the sounds she makes when he pulls it when they do it rough.

She’ll fucking love what her loving husband got planned.

Evie leads him into a closed off alley, one where even his state-of-the-art bucket can’t function properly and not a single surveillance system monitor. She means to confront him or kill him, either way she thinks she’s in charge.

“Got something to hide, Mrs. Nelson?” He taunts her, trapping her between him and the wall. The Victor turned rebel could bet his woman could feel the effect this game of cat and mouse had on him.

“Hmm, is the good sergeant gonna search me?” Eva is just as turned on by it as he is, how some still don’t see how they are perfect for each other is beyond him.

Despite having his face on the mandatory television programs every year, Jack blends in perfectly amongst the peacekeepers who lie and say they are from the Capitol.

Eva’s brave enough to suggest he walks her home with the excuse of carrying her purchases for her. She even buys something she couldn’t possibly carry as a precaution.

They talk, lie, and say they met in the Capitol when the vendors ask about him in quiet whispers. It is fun until he gets to the front door of her house and her cousins are waiting for her thinking something has gone horribly wrong.

They fear what could happen if Snow suddenly cared about Laurie’s existence, what would happen if people discovered that the man she meets up with at the farm is Jack and worse, that Eva is involved with moving contraband between districts because of him and Shelby.

“You might as well wear a sign.” Her aunt grumbles when she recognizes Jack. “A see through visor, your mother’s nerves must be in tatters.”

“Jack, this is my aunt and my cousins, Andy and Nacho.” Eva brushes off her words and tries to ease the atmosphere as she dares to introduce him as her husband. “Tia, Nacho, and Andy, I would like for you to meet my husband, Jack.”

Livia de Souza makes it clear he will never have her approval even if she lives under Eva’s roof, but Eva doesn’t care, her approval will be gained when Snow dies a painful death, and the Games are no more. If push came to shove, she’d love him like a son for smuggling her to 13.

As dangerous as Jack’s plan sounds, it may come to that.

Andy and Nacho could hide as Peacekeepers, Atia could too, but Katie and Eva’s Aunt and the baby couldn’t. Katie will be disguised as a Capitol Official, Livia as the nanny for her son whom she cannot leave behind. The train will take them to 12 where a man called Johnny Dogs is to take them out of there to where 13 will retrieve them safely.

Too bad they still needed the badges, the necessary clothing, crates, and the assurance that Shelby’s people and 13’s spies are willing to get them the fuck out of here. There was so much they needed to do and that gave her the best way to cover up her lack of interest for Jack’s plans.

It’s not that she doesn’t believe they need it, but there is too much risk involved in this.

The white rose bush that grew from Snow’s rose is there out front to remind her not to bite off more than she can chew.

When the tour ends without being able to secure a uniform for Eva, the rebel and mother knows this is a sign that they must wait longer. Who knows Plutarch may find his blasted symbol amongst those reaped for the 74th or even the Quarter Quell.

Jack is tired of waiting, he has never been one to control his impulses, but July 4th comes around again, and they know the person they have been forced to wait for arrives as the first person to ever volunteer in District 12.

Katniss Everdeen has broken 74 years of self-preservation over loyalty in her district and at 16 years of age had become the keystone of the Rebellion. However way she wins, she will be the spark that lights the pyre they have been building before she was even born.

#jack x eva #they didn't know we were seeds #evacore #hunger games au

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redhoodinternaldialectical · 5 months

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Chapter 21 of Chained: To Wield The Blade We Have Forged

A/N: This chapter is stephcass focused enough that I think people might enjoy this as a standalone thing, so I'll be posting the chapter both on AO3 as usual, and right here in this post! This also connects to the reblog I wrote up the other night gushing about Batgirl (2000) #19 and the potential in a Cass vs Jason confrontation!

For this chapter only, NOT the whole fic: Rated T for Teen Ships are Stephanie Brown/Cassandra Cain and vaguely hinted at Jason Todd/Tim Drake There's gonna be a LOT of plot points that don't seem to go anywhere, cause they're parts of much bigger arcs, but there's some really sweet talk about deep stuff towards the end and the start is Steph handling a deescalation scenario Hope you enjoy ^w^ !

Dear War Diary,

You know, some days I don't even think Ivy should be in Arkham. Logging, pollution, hair spray tearing a hole in the ozone layer, pesticides - if I could feel plants' pain as they were broken apart, I'd want to feed people to ambulatory venus fly traps too. Heck, back in high school I was sure tempted to let her have at some of my more obnoxious classmates.

Unfortunately, today was not one of those days.

We knew something was weird this time around when the docs at Arkham called warning us that she woke up screaming and her powers went out of control. Usually when this sort of thing happens she goes towards a clear goal. Like, there'll be a construction site or a factory or something damaging the land and drawing her out.

Thing is though, the more we chased her, the clearer it became that she wasn't running towards anything.

She was fleeing, and seemingly had no clear place to bolt to. First she fled to the meat packing district. Then she ran down to the water, and like, we expected her to follow the coast? But she just swam right in! Left huge algal blooms in her wake too; like the lacy train of a queen's dress. She even left Gotham altogether for a hot minute only to turn back again for no reason. She was very obviously out of her mind frightened of something, but we had no idea what it was, and frankly, we still don't.

Tonight had real big 'predator running from the wildfire' energy, is what I'm saying.

It took several days, but eventually she gave up on running and bunkered down in one of the parks. The concrete storage shed she picked as her new home was so overgrown by the time we got to it that it was impossible to see a single square inch of the structure. The hardwood and thorn vines covering it had to have been at least a meter thick.

And that little backstory finally brings us to tonight's patrol.

I tapped my earpiece, "We getting anything on the seismic, O?"

"Nope. If she's digging she's doing it slow enough we're not gonna get any warning. Good news though, I finally got an answer back from Waller. Harley Quinn can be on the line within ten minutes notice."

"Awesome. Speedy, you good to cover me?"

"Yup! Got a whole quiver full of tranquilizers and frog crotch arrows ready for her."

I snort-laughed, "God, what a name!"

"I know right?! But yeah, you're good to go. I'll be aiming from the East, so gimmie a sign if you think you'll need me at a different angle."

"Got it. Alright O, give that ten minute notice and I'll start the approach."

Step one: Get the cops to back up the perimeter by at least ten feet all around. Frankly they were gonna be useless in a fight if it came to that, and the whole goal here was to get this done without bloodshed.

This part was pretty damn easy. I knew one of the cops there by name and she was more than happy to back her fellow officers out of the negotiation zone.

Step two: Establish a desire for peaceful communication.

I spoke through a megaphone into the general direction of the tree-bunker, "Doctor Isley? Would you be willing to come out and talk?"

The woods creaked and groaned, shifting minutely. My heart pounded in my chest, waiting, watching, every leaf bud an acid spitting behemoth in the making.

Nothing came out.

I called out to her again, "Okay. Doctor Isley, you seem really upset, and we don't understand why, but you haven't hurt anyone yet so we're not going to hurt you."

I glanced around surreptitiously at the cops. Lucky for me they all seem to be on their best behavior tonight. No one was grumbling about wanting to hurt her loud enough for me to hear, and I just had to trust that meant the grass couldn't hear them either.

"If you don't want to talk to me, that's okay. We want to get you some help, so we're going to try and get Harley on the phone so you can talk to her."

Against my ear, the phone crackled to life.

Time for step three: Get negotiation partner on board.

"Which bat-brat do I have the displeasure of speakin to today!?"

"It's Batgirl; we need your help getting through to Ivy."

"HAH! Well fat fuckin chance, asshole! I ain't talkin her inta anythin she don't wanna do!"

"And we're not asking you to! She hasn't even hurt anybody, and she's not making any threats, but she is clearly terrified. We think there's something or someone after her, and it's not us."

I gave her a moment to think it over. She's got to know we wouldn't let Ivy die, but there's always the chance we're just lying.

"Fine. Alright, what's the plan here?"

"Thank you! I'm gonna hold the speaker up to the megaphone, and you let her know you want to talk, then I'll slowly approach and once in speaking range I'll take the megaphone off of the phone to give the two of you some privacy."

"An you'll still be listinen the whole damn time of course."

"Yeah, sorry about that, but at least the cops won't be."

Harley sighs, "Turn the lights down in the house and start the music then. Lets get this show rollin an' over with."

Step four: Negotiate and deescalate.

Through the phone megaphone combo she said, "Hey Sweetpea, mind lettin me hear yer pretty voice again?"

The protective wall started growing again, getting thicker. I chance a few slow steps forwards anyway, since nothing offensive starts growing either. Or at least I hoped there wasn't something offensive in there.

"I've missed ya. Not the same kickin ass with these bozos in here, ya'know?"

As I got closer, the smell of ozone got stronger, breathing started to feel weird, and every drop of sweat evaporated off of me, leaving me parched. Her hypergrowth vegetation was stripping the carbon dioxide and water out of the air so fast that the atmosphere around it was going haywire.

Just as I thought she was waiting for me to get close enough for her tree's roots to just use me as a nutrient bag, an opening formed over the doorway to the storage unit, and she shakily poked her head out, calling for Harleen.

She was messed up. She clearly hadn't been able to take care of herself and

I'm not writing the next part down verbatim. Just seems too... invasive. They said a lot of sweet an

I don't feel great about this, but just in case I need it, I am going to record what I remember of how Harley talked her down.

Harley said, "Pumpkin, I'm so sorr

Okay. Third time's the charm?

This was not a criminal wrecking havok for profit. This was not a terrorist making demands. This was someone having a breakdown due to forces outside her control and her girlfriend comforting her as best she could. I shouldn't even have been hearing it, really, so yeah I think I'd feel too skeezy to keep dinner down if I wrote it all out 'just in case'.

Informationally speaking, hopefully the only part of their conversation I'll ever need to know again is that Ivy said "The green is dying" and "She's made the world barren; the flowers will never bloom again" and basically made it really clear that the damage was already done and no one was after her.

If you're reading this Future Me and you desperately need to know exactly what happened, sorry not sorry, get a time machine or something.

Anyways, after it became clear that there was nothing we could do for her other than get her back to mental help, I gave Speedy the signal to take the shot. The tranqs hit her before she realized anything was up, and there were only a few seconds of scuffle, then she was down for the count.

I picked up the phone again to cut the line and Harley said, "So that's it, huh? I talk her into openin' the treeline, you drug her up, and that's curtains?"

"There clearly wasn't anything else we could do for-"

"Fuck off you insufferable, controlling, shitty, furry knock off cops! I shoulda told her ta mulch ya!"

There were the muffled sounds of the phone being taken out of her hand, and then a voice I didn't recognize, "Well, I hope that clown to plant heart to heart was worth the favor."

"Zero injuries, zero deaths, zero horrifying poison scares: I'd say it was."

She, whoever she was (I assume it was Waller) chuckled, "Well you aren't the one picking up the tab. Tell Oracle it was a pleasure doing business again."

The line went dead.

"You get that O?"

"Loud and clear. And hey, don't let what Quinn said get to you. You did great."

"Thanks," I kinda didn't feel it, but the sentiment was nice.

The rest of patrol was a long and boring ride on the top of a police van, making sure that no one ambushed her on her way back to Arkham, and then a short conversation about what they're going to do to keep her there this time.

They've had a couple different ways to cut her off from whatever The Green is for a while now. Every method has nasty side effects, and half her breakout attempts were in direct opposition to using them. At this point their policy is to just help her manage being connected. Considering what I saw that connection putting her through tonight? The docs rubber stamped cutting her off from The Green again, at least temporarily, and I'm pretty okay that.

So yeah. We won. Yippee. And all it took was arm twisting a woman held prisoner by a shadowy government agency in order to trick the love of her life into making herself vulnerable to us...

God this job sucks sometimes.

And the suck was not over yet, not by a long shot! And the suck was not only reserved for me either. Uh, okay obviously since Harley and Ivy, but also!

Oracle called to tell me this: "I need to give you a heads up before you return to base, and Speedy needs some time to handle a private phone call so I'm telling you this now. Black Bat got into a fight that upset her pretty bad. She's been on the training sims and dummies for over three hours, and I'm kinda worried she's not gonna sleep unless someone helps her untangle her head."

"I thought everything went smooth on her end, what the heck happened?"

"Easier if I just show you," Oracle said and fed a video taken by one of the Bat-House's internal cameras into my HUD.

It showed Ca (gah trying not to write anyone's names is a mess) Black Bat in civilian clothes, standing in a doorway. She's staring at the Red Hood from across the room with an expression of frustrated determination.

He ignores her for a while, continuing to read, curled up on the couch in a posture so terrible I have to wonder if he's trying to give himself back problems.

She just... kept staring. And staring.

Finally he asked, sounding very snarky and annoyed, "Can I help you?"

"Why did you pull the trigger again? You were better. You did better for so long. Why?"

"I don't owe you that shit," He narrowed his eyes at her, "And you don't get to decide I was better just cause you liked it more when I was docile."

She marches over to him, "I know how it hurts. I see it hurt you! I want to help. I want to know why."

"No," He said, standing up to loom over her, as though she couldn't kick his ass five ways from Sunday with a hand tied behind her back, "You want me to get on my knees and sob and beg for forgiveness. As though any of you shitheads ever even deserved my forgiveness!"

"No! I want to see you get better! I wanted another little brother!"

"Well congratu-fucking-lations, you got one! Don't worry, Dickie hates it just as much. I'm sure he can give you some pointers on how to go fuck yourself about it."

My jaw started hurting from how tight I had my teeth clenched as I watched her face twist in open rage-hurt-sorrow, "Why won't you stop burning our house down!? You're in it!"

"I. Don't. Owe. You. That."

She glared up at him defiantly, "You owe someone."

"No. I don't."

"Sheezus!" Black Canary said as she entered the room, "I leave you alone for five minutes and you're already picking a fight with her? Seriously?"

Black Bat's anger simmered below the boiling point again, "Not a fight."

"That sure looked like-"

"Not a fight." She declared bitterly, storming out of the room.

BC raised an eyebrow at Hood.

He smiled all teeth and irritation, "Not a fight!"

She rolled her eyes and took her post back up as the video ended.

I sighed, "Well. That'd do it. Thanks for the warning, I'll see if I can talk to her, take her mind off it."

"Appreciated. I tried but... I dunno. You'll probably have more luck."

"We'll see I guess! So, am I good to check in with Speedy, or is she still on her phone call?"

"You're good."

When I grappled up to the roof she was on, Speedy looked pretty damn unhappy. So, like, clearly tonight was sucking complete ass for everyone. Mercury in retrograde or some shit, idk.

"You got news I take it?" I asked.

"Mhm, great news! By which I mean totally shit news. Apparently the lab I get my bloodwork done at broke, as in everything is giving false negatives. So yeah, all my bloodwork for the past who knows how long might have been wrong!"

"Oh shit. You want us to test you in the Batcave? Guarantee the lab down there could handle whatever you need!"

"I appreciate the offer, but I'll need to fast for twelve hours beforehand no matter what, so it wouldn't really be any quicker. Also my civilian GP would be pretty leery of a Bat-Diagnostic, especially since they already got me an appointment with the closest available people."

O cut in over comms, "That is suspiciously fast..."

Speedy shrugged, "I've got a feeling Green Arrow might have pushed me up the list somehow. He might not be (secret identity stuff I can't write down here :P ) anymore, but he's still got some pull."

"Hmm, well, both of you get back to base and we can figure out the logistics once you're here."

"Roger."

"Aye Aye Captain."

Once she cut off I offered, "Grapple line tag on the way there to take your mind off it?"

"You know what? I could use something to stretch my legs out after all that sniper crouching. Fuck it, let's do this."

Swingy swingy swingy over the buildings, across the bridge, to grandmother's imposing, minefield-surrounded cave we went!

We got into the cave, changed out of our gear, and sure enough, Black Bat was still in the training section, running herself ragged. Speedy went up to get some sleep since she couldn't eat dinner now anyways (do NOT envy that). So I went straight into an attempt to pry Black Bat off the training mats.

"Heads up!" I called out and tossed a bottle of water at her head.

She caught it without even looking, swapping to kicks and using her other hand to demolish her sandbag opponents, "Been drinking enough just fine."

"Sure. What'll it take to convince you to take a break and drink it with me anyways?"

She paused, leg still raised to kick, perfectly poised like gravity wasn't even a factor. It always makes my legs hurt looking her like that. Makes the rest of me swoon too.

"Would um..." She frowned, like she expected me to think less of her for making the request, "You bring dinner down here? For us both?"

I gave her a smile, "Yeah, of course. Mind saying how come?"

"Because Hood's up there and I want to fight him more. If I fight him, have to look at him. Have to watch him feeling and thinking and..." She finally put her leg down, and fidgeted with the cap of her water, "And I just don't want to."

"Didn't realize you hated him that bad."

"Not sure I do? Messy."

"Yeah, messy for me too."

Translation: I still don't know how to feel about him taking grisly revenge against Black Mask 'in my honor'. Still also super don't know how to feel about his welcome home gifts of a gun and an offer to come murder criminals with him.

Then I add, "But I'll have you know I'm a first class mess messer with-er! So if you want to talk about it, I'd be happy to."

She very briefly smiled, then her face feel again and somber moment passed before she said quietly, "Yeah, okay. Bring food down and... we can talk."

"On it."

"Um, wait!"

"Huh?"

She caught my arm and reeled me in for a kiss on the cheek, "There."

I laughed and gave her a proper kiss, "There! Love you."

Diary, have I ever told you about how she looks when she blushes? Because I seriously think I'll need to pull out the old poetry textbooks in order to do it justice.

Upstairs took me passed the dining room, where Red Hood and Red Robin were talking.

"The fuck is that?" Hood asked, leaning over his shoulder.

"Blueprints. I'm having a section of my house renovated while I'm stuck here."

"Wwwwhy?"

"I am swiftly being driven mad by boredom and saw a really neat indoor garden set-up on pinterest."

"An indoor garden? In Gotham? Do you fuckin want to get strangled to death in your sleep by vines?"

RR does the little 'tch' thing he picked up from Robin, "Whatever, it'll be fine, these are tiny little arboreals and I'll have reinforced airlocks leading in and out."

"That does fucking nothing for attacks in your sleep."

"Which is why I'll have the whole lockdown system automated. I was already going to do automation for the plant care stuff anyways, cause lets be honest here, there was no way I was ever going to keep them alive on my own."

"...The speed and ease with which you oscillate between self depreciating paranoia and megalomaniacal hubris is fascinating."

And even as pissed off as I am with both of them, that still almost made me friggin lose it laughing, RR seemed so offended too, it was great!

And speaking of pissed off? Yeah, seeing RR acting so chummy with Hood was kinda making my blood boil! Like, maybe he didn't even know they fought. But he's supposed to be her friend too, and it's still sticking in my craw, and I'm busy with the whole damn city needing patroled, and so bottom line: I didn't talk to him tonight, and I'm probably not gonna talk to him tomorrow night either!!

Agent A had several plates set to the side already when I got into the kitchen. I think he assumed at least a few of us were gonna go off in our separate corners after the argument. Made it nice and easy to snag two and bring it down.

She had clearly been pacing, waiting for me, back down in the cave.

We sat together and she held my hand while we ate - pretty awkward, but super worth it. We stayed quiet, me cause I wanted to give her the space to start talking, and her probably because she wasn't sure where to start.

Once all the peas and mash were gone and she was pushing her drumstick around the plate she asked, "Ready?"

"Go for it. All ears."

"It's a guilt thing I think? Least a little?"

"Kinda always figured you were uh, how to put it, I guess invested in him, cause of that sort of parallel between you two?"

She nodded, "Not all of it's that, though. Different guilt," She gives me a rueful smile, "I'm layered in it, huh?"

"Like a lasagna of angst," I told her solemnly.

She huffed a quiet laugh, fidgeting with my hand, "Am I um. A tasty lasagna?"

"Oh yeah, you're delicious," I said with a cheesy wink.

"Terrible," She laughed a bit more, running her thumb over the back of my hand, and the nervous sad crept right back in, "You know about um... One day, I rescued a man? Murderer. From the gas chamber?"

"Yeah. Not well, you've never said much, but I've read a bit about it. Was kind of a big news thing."

"On the way out I met the mother of his victim. She demanded justice. She demanded his death. I didn't know how to- to reconcile her grief. Still don't. But back then... I put him back in the gas chamber. I look at Hood. Wonder if he's the murderer or the mother or the executioner. Wonder what the mother was. Wonder what I was. Wonder if the distinction matters at all."

"Hood's trying to cut all the bad people out, trying to bleed the world better. You're trying to keep it all alive, trying to keep everyone growing. Maybe the other distinctions don't matter, but I think this one has to."

She squeezed my hand tight and kissed every one of my knuckles delicately, "I hope so. Trying to believe so."

"I kinda think you already do. You may be an angst lasagna, but you don't do what you do just out of guilt, yeah?"

"Guess so... I wanted so bad to find out that they'd been replaced by aliens or something. Find out that wasn't him. Not now and um. Not on TV all those months ago. At the very least I was hoping to find regret."

"I really wish I had something better to say than, you know, his determination to be an asshole isn't something we can fix. Just gotta keep growing our garden and hope he decides to join us for real sometime."

"Yeah..." Another round of knuckle kisses, "Yeah, you're right," She wrinkles her nose, "Sucks you're right."

"Yup."

She pressed her forehead against our intertwined hands for a while.

Then she asked, "Tell me about one of your shows?"

"Sure."

So I chattered about some light stuff she nodded along to until we were both ready for bed. It was honestly really nice, and I think I needed it too, a lot more than I realized.

So yeah, here's hoping tomorrow is less of a complete shit show from start to finish.

- Batgirl IV

#jaytim #stephcass #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #damian's tomfoolery #chained fanfic #chained: to wield the blade we have forged #jason todd #tim drake

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whumpy-daydreams · 7 months

Text

An Unexpected Reunion

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CW: ref to past abuse, ref to torture, swearing

Rowena spent a month in temporary accommodation. It wasn't that she didn't like living with the others, but it was a constant reminder of what had happened. Emma and Shaan were moving out anyway - together, which wasn't a surprise.

The staff had been helpful in setting her up in an apartment in her birth city. Perhaps it was a stupid move, a sentimental move, but it was the only place she truly knew and liked.

The flat was small and the landlord was a dick, but it was in a good location, high up overlooking a small district of cafes and charity shops.

She'd got a job in one of the coffee shops a couple of streets away. The other employees were friendly enough, even if they did look at her weirdly when they thought she couldn't see. But they never asked what happened.

Rowena spent the rest of her time drinking or rebuilding her strength, turning half of her apartment into a makeshift gym. Bur doing push-ups wasn't enough to reassure herself that she would be able to win in a fight.

...

Paz took a deep breath as he paid the entry fee to the fighting pit. It had been two years since Rowena had left. A whole year after she should have returned.

He'd pieced together some of the pieces. Some of it he'd suspected years ago, though he'd never told her his theories. But trying to find a hitman (hitwoman?) was not easy. There were only whispers, the odd post on some dark-web forum, brief news stories about businessmen who ended up dead.

It was a whisper that had brought him here. A tale about a girl who was raking in money at some grimy underworld fighting pit. Paz just hoped he was wrong.

The stadium was packed, sweat and blood filling the air, mingling with screams and loud bets. Paz pushed through the tightly packed bodies, the spectators too engrossed in the fight at hand to give him a second glance.

It was obvious the fight had been going on for a while. Both people in the ring were panting, covered in bruises and dried blood as they circled each other, fists half raised. Paz's heart sank.

Her hair was shorter and there was a gauntness to her face that hadn't been there the last time he'd seen her - but it was her.

...

Rowena was tired. And sore. This was her third opponent of the night, and the fight had gone on for almost ten minutes. Time to finish this up.

She dodged as the man lunged forward with a sloppy jab, bringing her shin up into his stomach. He grunted, stumbling back. From there it was easy: cross, hook, uppercut, and he was down.

Cheers and groans erupted from the crowd as money exchanged hands. The ringmaster stepped forward, holding Rowena's arm up as he paraded her around the grimy ring.

"Anyone else want to try their luck against tonight's champion?" he shouted over the din, when someone in the crowd caught Rowena's eye.

"Shit," she muttered. "I'm done. Get some fresh meat in here, I'll take my money in a minute." The ringmaster didn't bother hiding his scowl but let her go, quickly beckoning two more men into the ring.

...

Rowena was in the corner taking the bloody tape off her knuckles when Paz found her.

"Rowena?"

"Hello Paz." She didn't look at him. He exhaled heavily.

"What- Jesus, Ro. What the hell? Hello? That's it? It's been two years." Paz hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected to feel angry.

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know - 'oh my god, Paz, I've been looking for you', or 'sorry I left you with no information', or 'I missed you'. What happened?"

"Is that it?" Finally Rowena looked at him, eyes hard. "Hi Paz, I missed you, sorry I was forced to leave. Are we done? Good." She turned away again, pulling on a plaid shirt.

"No, that's-" he took a deep breath, his voice softer. "That's not what I meant. What happened to you? Where have you been?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes!"

"Why? Why does it matter so much to you? Why do I-" Rowena's voice hitched in her throat.

"Because you're my friend, Rowena. Because you're funny and strong and brave. I've spent months looking for you. When you didn't come back I was so scared you were dead. And then I find you in an illegal fucking fighting pit and it's like you don't even want to know me..."

Rowena's fingers twitched though she stayed still. "I thought it would be easier." Paz struggled to hear her over the din, but he could still make out the strain in her voice.

"That what would be easier?" he pushed.

"Everything. I only ever put you in danger."

"I can look after myself, Ro." She laughed; a cold, dry chuckle. "Just because you're some assassin that I'm completely helpless? I'm not a child." Rowena tensed as he mentioned being an assassin and spun to face him. Now it was Paz's turn to laugh. "Yeah, I worked it out. Not so fucking stupid after all."

"You know jack shit about me. About what I had to do to protect you." Her words were like venom in her mouth. "And now you have the nerve to tell me I'm cruel?"

"For the record I never said you were being cruel - but even if I had, you've killed people-"

"It's not like I had a choice, Paz."

"Bullshit! Everyone can choose to do the right thing."

"I tried." Paz rolled his eyes and Rowena stepped towards him, hands balled into fists. "No. Don't roll your fucking eyes. Because when I said no Marcus threatened you. Told me how he'd make me watch as he cut bits off of you."

Paz almost stopped breathing, but Rowena wasn't done. She turned around, pulling her shirt down to reveal the scars that ran down her back.

"I got these because I was friends with you. Because I dared to have a single friend." She turned back to face him and he noticed her tears were wet with tears. "So don't tell me I had a choice or that you can take care of yourself or that I'm the cruel one."

She stared at him for a second before grabbing her things and storming off, grabbing the stack of notes the ringmaster had left for her.

Paz just felt numb. She was right. He didn't know anything about her. His best friend of nine years and he had no idea who she was. You know she's funny. That she's strong and brave and that she got hurt to protect you.

The smell of blood and sweat drifted after him out of the fighting pit as Paz ran after Rowena.

tag list - @i-eat-worlds

#mortiawrites #whump #angst #land of liars #this got kinda long and dialogue is my kryptonite but oh well

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