#Moderate Rebels | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justafewberries · 3 months ago

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Sejanus Plinth, Lenore Dove, and the Impulsive Rebel

Both Sejanus Plinth and Lenore Dove rebel impulsively. Sejanus, foremost, enters the arena with the intention to give last rites to Marcus. He begins to act in accordance with other rebels in District Twelve, but his trust of Coriolanus becomes his downfall. Lenore Dove takes to the stage to sing about the injustice of oppression. It was not her singing that necessarily got her arrested, rather, the crowds that gathered. Both characters suffer from impulsive and emotional rebellion, which often befalls the characterization of immaturity. However, in the context of an oppressive and isolating Capitol, their Bradburian rebellions, akin to Guy Montag’s rebellion in Fahrenheit 451 and Winston’s in 1984, speak to Plutarch Heavensbee’s greater continuum of revolution.

Sejanus Plinth

In The Rebel, Albert Camus defines a rebel as “a man who says no, but whose refusal does not imply a renunciation”. In that, a rebel is someone who recognizes the authority has moved beyond the limit of its power. It has begun to encroach on the rights of others. However, the rebel is also someone who believes that there is moderation in which the authority has power before said limit. (This definition hinges on the difference between revolution and rebellion, but for the sake of the scope of this essay, I will omit Camus's broad section on the differences. It's long enough already.)

For example, Sejanus Plinth rebels against the idea of the Games and the inhumane treatment of the districts. He believes instead of punishing the districts, the Capitol should seek to protect everyone in Panem, but he still believes in the government having power. The line for him would be the abuse of the districts.

Sejanus represents John Locke’s idea of natural law, which denotes that people are born with natural rights to life, liberty, and property. Any government must then recognize said rights, and it cannot expect obedience from people who have not freely consented to its rule.

This encompasses Sejanus’s impulsive rebellion:

“But if a long train of abuses, prevarications and artifices, all tending the same way, make the design visible to the people, and they cannot but feel what they lie under, and see whither they are going; it is not to be wondered, that they should then rouze themselves, and endeavour to put the rule into such hands which may secure to them the ends for which government was at first erected.”

In the Capitol, Sejanus is isolated in his perception of injustice. Unlike his classmates, he has insight into the humanization of people beyond Capitol borders. He recognizes they are not animals, like his classmates believe, but instead, people born with rights just like him. He must grapple with the knowledge of the harm the Games are doing and the conflicting role of being a mentor- a cog in the machine of the Games. Still, he is around people who do not perceive the “long train of abuses”, and thus feels he must convince them of the prevarications.

“Hardly rebels. Some of them were two years old when the war ended. The oldest were eight. And now that the war’s over, they’re just citizens of Panem, aren’t they? Same as us? Isn’t that what the anthem says the Capitol does? ‘You give us light. You reunite’? It’s supposed to be everyone’s government, right?” “That’s the general idea. Go on,” Dr. Gaul encouraged him. “Well, then it should protect everyone,” said Sejanus. “That’s its number one job! And I don’t see how making them fight to the death achieves that.” “Obviously, you don’t approve of the Hunger Games,” said Dr. Gaul. “That must be hard for a mentor. That must interfere with your assignment.” Sejanus paused for a moment. Then he sat up straight, seeming to steel himself, and looked her in the eye. “Perhaps you should replace me and assign someone more worthy.”

He wants to be freed from the Games. He expresses this proposal to Dr. Gaul, who refuses to oblige. Yet, even Sejanus knows freeing himself from the Games is not something that would end them. Even after he no longer has a stake in the Games when Marcus goes missing, he continues to show up to classes and chime in to discussions on the Games. He rebels through free thought, as it is the only rebellion he can manage under the oppressive restrictions of the Capitol.

Returning to Camus’s The Rebel, he writes that to remain silent means to consent to the malpractice of the authority:

“To remain silent is to give the impression that one has no opinions, that one wants nothing, and in certain cases it really amounts to wanting nothing. Despair, like the absurd, has opinions and desires about everything in general and nothing in particular. Silence expresses this attitude very well. But from the moment that the rebel finds his voice—even though he says nothing but "no"—he begins to desire and to judge.”

Sejanus rebels through continuing to show up. He earnestly believes that speaking in front of his classmates and Academy staff will change someone’s mind. He believes if he can convince someone to understand, then maybe, he will make a dent in the Games. It is why Lysistrata’s speech when Jessup dies is impactful. Lysistrata, who was born and raised in the Capitol, begins to see the people in the districts beyond their characterization as animals.

“What I’d like people to know about Jessup is that he was a good person. He threw his body over mine to protect me when the bombs started going off in the arena. It wasn’t even conscious. He did it reflexively. That’s who he was at heart. A protector. I don’t think he would’ve ever won the Games, because he’d have died trying to protect Lucy Gray.” “Oh, like a dog or something.” Lepidus nodded. “A really good one.” “No, not like a dog. Like a human being,” said Lysistrata.

While I do not intend to reduce Lysistrata’s revelation to a sole factor, Sejanus’s insistence must have impacted her thoughts. She shows empathy towards his rebellious outburst after Sejanus sees Marcus in the arena. She even attempts to get Snow to console him. Snow, in fear of association, the opposite of Lysistrata, refuses.

We see more emotional rebellion in Sejanus when he attempts to give last rites to Marcus via the breadcrumbs in the arena. The rebellion of this act can be construed two ways: a boy trying to give someone passage into an afterlife, or a rebellious student attempting to humanize someone in front of the Capitol and willing to die for it. Both of these options convene in emotion.

Dying in the arena as a sole rebel will not accomplish the same messaging as working strategically with a team of conspirators. Rather, his emotional rebellion is personal and impulsive. He cannot depend on anyone to rebel with him. Again, he is isolated from any inklings of rebellion or rebellious thought leaders. Any time he attempts to bring the ideas to the classroom, someone shuts him down. Therefore, he deems it necessary to act in accordance with his own ideologies even if it means going at it alone. To him, a fleeting rebellion is better than none at all. There is no greater conspiracy other than the ideologies in his dialects: people deserve rights.

When he sprinkles the breadcrumbs on Marcus, he accepts his own death. To him, as to Camus, rebels who are willing to die recognize that some causes transcend that of a single man:

“If he prefers the risk of death to the negation of the rights that he defends, it is because he considers these rights more important than himself. Therefore he is acting in the name of certain values which are still indeterminate but which he feels are common to himself and to all men. We see that the affirmation implicit in every act of rebellion is extended to something that transcends the individual in so far as it withdraws him from his supposed solitude and provides him with a reason to act.”

Sejanus’s impulse is driven by the idea that rights (or, rites) are more important than himself. He has accepted death, even if his actions will not lend themselves to a greater movement. He acts on his own, isolated from his district and alone in his ideas. He recognizes that he must act, even if it will end in his own death. The injustices occur before his eyes, and he realizes he cannot wait to recruit more people to his cause. He has tried and failed, and now his friend is dead. He cannot wait for a rebellion. To him, there is no such thing. Of course we as readers know about Plutarch and the later rebellion, but Sejanus is not given such insight. Nor is he aware of anyone who may even consider the district citizens as humans. To him, he is alone in life and thought, and thus he accepts this as true and rebels on his own.

It is why, in District Twelve, farther removed from the Capitol’s watchful eye, he feels more emboldened. He latches on to the first signs of rebellion and devotes his life to it. He works with Billy Taupe and the rebels to try to free a prisoner, because once again, he believes people have rights. With people behind him, he has something he has never had before- a community of like minded people.

For the first time, he is no longer alone. He realizes his ideas all along can come to fruition. While his tactics are unrefined, such as drawing a map in the dirt where anyone can see, his rebellion is still appropriately limited.

Sejanus’s rebellious plot lacked a direct attack on the Capitol. While he believed in ending the Games, he set the bar lower. He likely realized the Games were too big of a target, and, unlike in the Capitol, escaping became a viable option. His goal was never to blow up the arena or free the tributes. He just wanted to get the imprisoned girl and run.

His greatest fault was trusting Snow. To him, they are brothers. He has been his confidant before, and Snow has saved him countless times. He refused to graduate unless the academy allowed Snow to graduate, too. Inasmuch, he is misled to believe he can tell Snow the plan.

For once, Sejanus found people who believed in the same things he did. Had he not told Snow, his rebellion likely may have worked. However, just like Guy Montag in Fahrenheit 451, he placed his trust in someone he believed to be his brother, and it got him killed. He felt emotionally compelled, just as he did in the arena, to give a final goodbye or an explanation. He trusted Snow, and it got him killed.

Lenore Dove

Lenore Dove’s acts of rebellion are reactionary, but still emotional. She does not act without a cause in front of her.

Assuming she was the one to cut the gallows rope and burn the flag, her actions of rebellion are always focused on one event. She sawed the rope to permit it to snap, and she burned the flag to create drama around the reaping ceremony. Neither of these events end with anything other than someone getting arrested. She acts out of necessity, but her acts are impermanent. Like Sejanus, she lacks an overarching goal and an overall movement.

However, unlike Sejanus, she is raised with rebellious media- books, free thought, and music. She idolizes the raven on the tree that can say what she desires. She admires people who can speak freely, going so far as to tell Haymitch she hopes to be able to speak her mind when she’s older:

“And nobody tells them what to say. That bird is who I want to be when I grow up. Someone who says whatever they think is right, no matter what.” No matter what. That’s the part I’m worried about. That she might be saying something rash. Or even doing something beyond dangerous words. Something the Capitol won’t warn but whip her for. The year she turned twelve, she crossed that line twice.

Yet, Lenore Dove respects the wishes of Clerk Carmine by singing only in the meadow. She complies with her uncle's wishes by refusing to play the Goose and the Common in public. She censors herself, and she will not sing in public because she “says it makes her too nervous to sing in front of people. Her throat closes up.”

However, her ultimate rebellion has her doing both things: Freely singing what she wants and gathering a crowd in the square. She immediately gathers like minded people:

“Less about what I played, more about how it drew people. Everybody’s real upset this year, so many kids. They needed a place to be together, to raise their voices. Sometimes the hurt’s too bad to bear alone.” So it wasn’t just her, playing her heart out in front of the Justice Building. A crowd had gathered. Sung the forbidden songs. “Did they say the charges?” “Disrupting the peace or something. And you know, ‘No Peace, No Anything.’”

She became, for a moment, a voice for District Twelve, who sang along with her forbidden songs. Had this occurred during the 75th Games, when tension was already high, it may have spawned something greater. Instead, with the ever present threat of the peacekeepers and propaganda in the square, the people complied by dispersing without issue. There was no compelling call to rebel. It was, as Camus says, “Rebellion is, by nature, limited in scope. It is no more than an incoherent pronouncement.”. She struck a spark that did not catch. However, in doing so, she placed herself, literally by being on the reaping stage, on the same level as the Capitol’s propaganda. She demanded respect for the ideas present in her songs.

To return to Camus:

“The act of rebellion carries him far beyond the point he had reached by simply refusing. He exceeds the bounds that he fixed for his antagonist, and now demands to be treated as an equal. What was at first the man's obstinate resistance now becomes the whole man, who is identified with and summed up in this resistance. The part of himself that he wanted to be respected he proceeds to place above everything else and proclaims it preferable to everything, even to life itself. It becomes for him the supreme good.”

Lenore Dove’s emotions drive her rebellion, and, like Sejanus, she doesn’t think about the consequences until they occur:

“No, darling, that’s not how it went down at all. I overstepped, just like my uncles always warn me about. I lost my temper and started hollering and now you’re — oh, Haymitch . . . I don’t want to be on this earth without you.”

Both characters do not consider the consequences because they act according to the urgency of the situation. They recognize no one else is making a move to rebel, and they rebel without support, because to them, none exists. To them, it is better to rebel than to sit by and watch, even if the fall out is worse than staying silent.

Haymitch says it best:

“It’s not like she’s part of some big conspiracy, so, hopefully, they won’t use methods to force her to talk. Just view her as an emotional sixteen-year-old whose boyfriend got reaped.”

She is not part of some “big conspiracy” because she is not given the opportunity. To both, there exists none. There is not even a chance, nor the liberty of joining. Their acts, then, are often mischaracterized as immature. Rather, the existence of the acts themselves is enough of a threat for the Capitol to silence them. Sejanus’s intrusion into the arena is never shown, and Lenore Dove is arrested. Their acts are significant in themselves, as they exist as moments of rebellion. The existence of rebellion itself is dangerous, as Drusilla says:

“You can’t say that!” Drusilla protests. “You’ll spoil the brilliant work I did covering up the riot!” “What riot? Woodbine ran and your people shot him.” “I know a riot when I see it! Never mind. That’s forbidden. It won’t win you any points with the audience anyway. They’ll respond to a bad boy, not a rebel. You need to be naughty, not dangerous.”

Any instance of rebellion is dangerous for a tyrannical authority, monumental impact or not.

Bradburian Rebellion

Both Sejanus and Lenore Dove rebel in a very Bradburian way- impulsive, emotional, and immediate. In Fahrenheit 451, Guy Montag begins to read directly from banned books, one in the same as Lenore Dove’s banned songs. Both acts ultimately lead to stamped out embers of rebellion. Montag’s fruitless rebellion results in the death of an innocent man. Lenore Dove’s rebellion results in a fortification of the state. Through her, the peacekeepers send a message of free speech and free thought are not allowed, as they disturb the peace. Sejanus’s rebellion culminates similarly to Montag’s in that he ultimately trusts someone who betrays him:

“Millie?” He paused. “This is your house as well as mine. I feel it's only fair that I tell you something now. I should have told you before, but I wasn't even admitting it to myself. I have something I want you to see, something I've put away and hid during the past year, now and again, once in a while, I didn't know why, but I did it and I never told you.” He took hold of a straight-backed chair and moved it slowly and steadily into the hall near the front door and climbed up on it and stood for a moment like a statue on a pedestal, his wife standing under him, waiting. Then he reached up and pulled back the grille of the air-conditioning system and reached far back inside to the right and moved still another sliding sheet of metal and took out a book. Without looking at it he dropped it to the floor. He put his hand back up and took out two books and moved his hand down and dropped the two books to the floor. He kept moving his hand and dropping books, small ones, fairly large ones, yellow, red, green ones. When he was done he looked down upon some twenty books lying at his wife's feet. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't really think. But now it looks as if we're in this together.” Mildred backed away as if she were suddenly confronted by a pack of mice that had come up out of the floor. He could hear her breathing rapidly and her face was paled out and her eyes were fastened wide. She said his name over, twice, three times. Then moaning, she ran forward, seized a book and ran toward the kitchen incinerator.

Montag, Lenore Dove, and Sejanus Plinth are all impulsive rebels. Their emotions and personal constitutions compel them to act. In every case, they do not fight with a greater cause, because the rebellion is so subdued they perceive no other choice than to act alone. They see the urgency in their situation, and they act accordingly. Often, as we see in both 1984 and Fahrenheit 451, this type of impulsive rebellion does little in the grand scheme of things. It is fleeting and, in the case of Winston, completely quelled into naught. However, in the context of Plutarch Heavensbee’s continuum, every act of rebellion is important, even the fleeting one-off ones. To put it simply, it all adds up.

As Camus continues:

“Rebellion is, by nature, limited in scope. It is no more than an incoherent pronouncement. Revolution, on the contrary, originates in the realm of ideas. Specifically, it is the injection of ideas into historical experience, while rebellion is only the movement that leads from individual experience into the realm of ideas. While even the collective history of a movement of rebellion is always that of a fruitless struggle with facts, of an obscure protest which involves neither methods nor reasons, a revolution is an attempt to shape actions to ideas, to fit the world into a theoretic frame. That is why rebellion kills men while revolution destroys both men and principles.”

Yet, all three characters rebel due to hope for a better future, because hope is all they have:

“The slave and those whose present life is miserable and who can find no consolation in the heavens are assured that at least the future belongs to them. The future is the only kind of property that the masters willingly concede to the slaves.”

The purpose of the Games, according to Snow, is to give the districts hope, and they do. To Sejanus and Lenore Dove, they hope for a better future, and they both rebel under the idea that their acts may have no greater consequence than an “incoherent pronouncement”, and yet, they are compelled to act.

Because, finally, as Camus says:

“Better to die on one's feet than to live on one's knees.”

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artsninspo · 3 months ago

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010 | Richmond Inc.

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

「 ✦ aaron pierre & characters library ✦ 」

⇚ 009

♠ summary: Lorence is confronted with the realities of her current predicament, unchartered territory with her Boss. Her past and present collide while Terry is away on business. But, when he returns - old habits die hard. ❤️‍🩹 🌶️

♠ pairing: Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre - Rebel Ridge) X Lorence Cole (Black Fem OC)

♠ warnings: NSFW, mature themes

♠ word-count: ~5K

⌖ - Multiple Locations

I walk alongside Joel with a smile as he holds Beau’s leash. The past week and a half he’s kept my dog to keep up with Beau’s physical needs, and allow me rest and recovery. My good boy Beau is having the time of his life with Joel’s kids, but now he won’t stop looking back at me. His usual brisk pace is moderate - it’s like he knows I’m hurt and his exuberance is why we’re a part.

“The wife keeps asking when you’re gonna let him sire a litter” Joel asks as we walk to the dog park.

“You know I’ll want to keep every single one of those puppies or make sure they’re close by and I don’t have six people who want a larger dog” I tell him.

“No working lines?” Joel asks to be funny.

“No, none of Beau's babies will be doing any scary shit” I tell him and he laughs.

“You’re not limping as much,” he says.

“I’m feeling better” I tell him honestly.

“And your wrist?” He asks.

“Seems a bit slower to heal” I admit holding up the brace. “Have you heard anything?” I ask and his expression told me he has.

“Rich’s furious” he sighs, talking about the Boss but since that night on the beach I haven’t seen anger from him.

“Really?” I ask.

“Yeah, it’s his own personal project. Everyone’s talking about how he didn’t even wait to get war ready. He just went in there without protection and a handgun after you.” Joel says with eyes trained on me. He’s capable of sensing deception, and I’m no master at it so I swallow hard to give myself time to choose my words wisely.

“It wasn’t the smartest thing to do” I admit. Joel nods and I don’t realize I’m anxious until Beau puts his muzzle against my hand. I smile looking down and pet his head.

“I’m glad he did, sorry I wasn’t there” Joel says again.

“You’re taking care of Beau and I’m glad you were safe. You followed protocol” I remind.

“Emerson said he saw you and Richmond leave the Monaco accommodation together the night before.” Joel trails openly fishing for information..

“After three years of being a tyrant and an asshole he showed me he can be nice. It was surprising, we walked my routes together. He was trying to help me calm down.” I tell Joel and he nods. There’s no happiness in his expression. I swallow bracing for a lecture and he sighs.

“I know you and I know Terry…” He starts.

“Joel-”

“Let me finish” he says in a tone he doesn’t use often. I stop to look at him. “I know you’re type and Richmond isn’t that.” Joel sighs, letting Beau off his leash in the empty dog park. I watch my dog bound away freely. “Are you listening to me?” He asks.

“Yes, you said Richmond isn’t my type” I repeat beginning to shut down.

“He’s not a fling abroad, or a ‘call me whenever you’re in town’ kind of guy. I’m not judging you Lorence.” Joel says knowing me well.

“Sounds like you are,” I mutter.

“I’m not Lorence, I get it. I do. I’m a man. I get wanting freedom. I get that you’re independent and I respect it. But if you think for one minute whatever’s going between the two of you is something you can put away when you’re done I’m letting you know it isn’t that. I had a feeling Terry liked you but fuck did I underestimate how much. The man was willing to take on fire. He’s not the free spirited type you're comfortable with” Joel says stressed.

“Terry and I aren’t sleeping together” I tell him and he puts his head into his hands, sighing. “What?” I ask.

“That’s even worse” he exclaims.

“How?!” I respond.

“We all put ourselves in danger daily. If you meet a soldier who can keep it in his pants, the man is in love. If the display in Monaco isn’t enough - there it is. You need to be straight with him, Lorence. Tell him what you want and what you’re used to. Because Richmond’s not the kind of man I can say I can confidently protect you from” Joel says having had to play the role of crazy ‘older brother’ for me once or twice.

“He wouldn’t hurt me” I say before I can process it. It’s something I know deep down. Joel looks at me like I’m hopeless. It’s new territory for us and somehow this conversation has aged him. My happy go lucky friend is now a concerned father figure. “I’ll talk to him” I concede wanting nothing less than to air out my attachment issues to Terry. Beau comes back from his patrol of the area and Joel tosses his ball for him. I watch beau bound after the ball and retrieve it with a proud prance completely unaware of life's challenges.

“Lorence I’m not trying to beat up on you, okay?” Joel says and I sigh.

“I know, you're a good friend.” I sigh.

“I think you and Terry would be good together if that’s what you wanted. But I also know it takes you longer to settle and trust people.” Joel says knowing the number of men I’ve kept at arm's length, how many girlfriend requests I've declined over the years. I prefer to keep my romantic life as far away as possible from my personal life.

“I don’t even know how to cook well, Terry’s all distinguished company and social commitments. He’s probably like you and wants kids for his family name and I don’t” I start on all the reasons we wouldn’t work long term aloud.

“Stop it Lorence. You learned how to be an agent, you can learn how to cook but you have enough money to hire a live-in chef or order in every day. I’m not telling you to cut it out or end it. I’m telling you to think. You can’t do things the way you normally do. Rich’s your boss and you’re the best at what you do. Figure things out and move forward accordingly. Dont fuck up your work life for some excitement you’ll want to run from in a week. Maybe have Richmond go off on a tirade or two on you so you can figure out what’s going on between you without whispers. Just clean it up” Joel advises reading me for filth and giving me options. I smile appreciating that he doesn't coddle me.

“Okay” I concede. “Have you ever seen Richmond with women?” I ask, wondering if there was an ex wife or someone else.

“Not seriously, not without a reason” he says.

I raise a brow, “what’s that mean?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Joel says and I give him an exasperated huff.

“So he’s never asked about me?” I ask.

“Oh he did, but he asks about everyone so I thought nothing of it.” Joel says.

“What’d he ask?”

“If you were single, then if I thought pairing you with some of our colleagues would lead to intimate affairs,” he says. I smile at Terrance’s futile fishing expeditions.

“If you were me, what would you do?” I ask Joel.

“I can’t put myself in the shoes of a woman” he says and I push him playfully with my good hand..

“You know what I mean”

“I know you’re happy and your life is full already but I would like to see you with someone. Someone who loves you and takes care of you. Someone that's always there and you can't avoid. I don't know if that's Terrance Richmond but if it is you deserve it all. Just know that he’s not your usual free spirited guy that’s gonna sit around when you don't call back. He’s a grown man and your boss” Joel says and I sigh with a lot more than I bargained for on my plate. Joel pulls me into a caring hug and I know I’m lucky to have him even if it’s not what I want to hear. He’s right. He’s never steered me wrong before and he’s partly to thank for where I am now in life. So I heed his advice.

…

I’ve been sitting in it all day. From the moment I got home to right now, after midnight I’ve been ruminating on my discussion with Joel. I wish he was wrong about me or Terry but I know deep down he isn’t. Terrance Richmond is a grown ass man with his shit together and isn't chasing his peak. By all means he’s already settled and successful. That’s the kind of resume that would usually keep me away. I’m the girl who likes a summer fling or a vacation romance every now and then. I need the predetermined start and end dates to keep me grounded and sane. That way there’s not too much room for distraction - that way I never end up like my mom. I sigh, wishing Beau was here as I sit alone in my house. Typically it’s my safe space but right now it feels haunted with visions of what was and what could be. Terrance grilling with my father, getting along with my mother - us kissing.

I close my eyes wishing it wasn’t almost two in the morning and I could call Sin. I make my way to the kitchen for some melatonin when my phone rings. I frown seeing Terrance is calling.

“Hey” I respond.

“Hey, what are you doing up?” he asks and I frown.

“Can’t sleep” I confess and I hear a car door close.

“What’s wrong, are your injuries keeping you up?” he asks.

“No,” I sigh. “How was your flight?” I ask, hearing a knock at my door. I pull up the security feed.

“It’s me” he says just as I confirm it. It’s like my brain shuts off in a second and I’m heading to let him in. He’s been gone for the past three days. I know now it was to do reconnaissance for what happened in Monaco but we haven’t talked about Monaco since the safehouse. He hugs me gently before putting a kiss on my head.

“Thought I’d drive past your place on my way home” he says, it would be weird if it were anyone else.

“How was your trip?” I ask.

“Could've been better, how are you feeling? If the meds are keeping you awake maybe have them adjusted” he says but I stopped needing my meds two days ago.

“It’s not the medication - I don’t want to be here alone tonight and I realized it after Sin went to bed” I tell Terry.

“I can drop you off there if that's what you want?” he asks.

“Not it's okay” I sigh looking up at him. Finding peace in his light eyes is the very last thing I thought would ever be possible. I feel my nerves settle and he smirks leaning in to give me a quick kiss.

“If you want me to stay I can or you can come over to my place” he offers.

“Let me pack a bag” I smiled, letting go of him. I head up to my room and throw everything I’ll need in an overnight bag. I realize I've been advised against lifting and call him. He emerges moments later looking around at my bedroom. I realize the decor isn’t everyone’s cup of tea but I’m still finding my signature style.

“Are all these plants real?” he asks.

“Yeah” I nod, getting my slippers and putting them in my bag. When I look at him he’s looking at the plants with a smile again.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he yawns.

“You don’t like it, do you?” I ask, thinking of my father who still doesn't understand why I have so much ‘dirt’ in my room.

“I didn’t say that” he says coming over to my vanity as I pack my makeup bag. He dips his head sniffing my neck before placing a kiss on the same spot.

“Which one is that?” he asks, looking at the perfume bottles in front of me. I hand him the bottle.

“Sin and I did a perfume workshop in Paris. I made this” I say.

“Is Sin your best friend?” he asks.

“Yup, my mom was the babysitter while aunt Kaye was out, so we’re very close” I explain.

“Pack a swimsuit,” he says.

“Why?” I ask heading over to my drawers to find one.

“I have a pool and water therapy is good for recovery,” he says. Of course he has a pool.

“Of course you have a pool, how else would you come up with sick and twisted water endurance tests for us” I tease getting my swimsuit and putting it in the bag.

“Swimming is perfect low impact active recovery, that’s why I have a pool” he says as I zip my bag. He takes it with ease adding me to his load and descending the stairs. I lock up and I head to his car with him. I schedule send a text to Sin that I’m with Terrance so someone knows by location. My conversation gnaws at my consciousness as I get in with him.

“If you're having flashbacks from Monaco you can tell me, PTSD is better treated sooner than later” he says resting a hand on my thigh.

“I’m not” I tell him truthfully.

“Lorence, I know what you look like at peace and I know how you look stressed,” he says.

“The car is in darkness” I state matter of factly.

“Not dark enough” he responds.

“So the pretty cat eyes come with night vision?” I ask turning to his shadowy shadowy silhouette.

“I pay attention,” he says at the stoplight. Red hues are cast into the car and I make out worry in his expression.

“I’m just having a bad day,” I confess.

“Anything I can do?” He asks and it makes my heart swell. I lean on his shoulder.

“This is good” I admit and he gives my leg a squeeze. We drive for another twenty minutes in silence. I watch closely and find us in the most expensive residential part of town. I sit upright looking at the gorgeous homes as we enter the gated community. It’s not full of cookie-cutter houses; but architectural feats that are unique in their own way. We turn off the main road into a driveway lined with trees. We drive for another minute before arriving on a lit driveway and a castle-like house. I look at Terrance and wonder how much he actually makes. It makes my home look like a toy. He opens the garage and we drive in. He gets out with my bag and I follow suit. When we enter his home I step back and look around at his manor. It’s not that I didn't expect him to live in a nice place but I definitely didn't expect this. The room is white with black and grey accents all over. There are high ceilings and top of the line furnishings. Not a single thing is out of place and it’s classic but elevated like the man himself.

“Come on, let's take the elevator” he says. Of course he has an elevator. I follow him to a hidden elevator door that seamlessly integrates into the wall.

“DId you buy or build this?” I ask as we step in.

“I built it” he responds, pressing a console that takes us up. But the door in front of us doesn't open. One does to the side of us. He steps out first and by the scent of his cologne I know we’re in his closet. We enter the main part of his bedroom and his bed is bigger than any I've even seen before. “Let me get a shower, then if you're hungry we can get something to eat or drink.” he says leaving me to my own devices.

I’ve never been so out of step, actually Terrance Richmond keeps me in a state of frenzy. If he was a gentleman, he’d have offered me my own room. But we’re past that now aren't we? Joel's warning comes back to me as I change into pj’s instead of the silk negligee I packed. I sit on the ottoman at the foot of the bed and take it all in. I take off my wrist brace and massage the area as I take stock of his home. Why would he want me when he has all this and my own mother didn't want me? There it is, the thought that’s ruined every single one of my relationships. The pain that’s never really gone and keeps me in safe comfortable solitude. I wipe the silent tears and stand going to his full length mirror to wipe them away. I put on a brave face and sit back on the bed. Terry comes out minutes later smelling heavenly and with black silk pants.

“Your eyes are red,” he says.

“The tiredness hit me” I lie and he nods, pulling back the sheets for me to climb in. I do, facing away from him and he turns off the light. A moment passes before he reaches out and pulls me back against the heat of his bare chest, wrapping his arms around me. It takes a few minutes before our breaths sync and our chests rise and fall in tandem. It’s the most non sexually intimate exchange I've ever had with a man I don't consider family. I place my hand over his and he pulls me even closer.

“Feeling disoriented after a traumatic experience like what you went through in Monaco is normal. You don't have to be strong around me if you feel down” he says. “I know you’re crying - you don't have to tell me why. Just know I’m here” he says before kissing my cheek. He has the patience of a saint putting up with me like this when we should be keeping things light and fun.

“I’m sorry for ruining-”

“Lorence being real with me won't ruin anything” he says.

“Yes it will” I tell him.

“You’ve had a stressful few weeks. From Switzerland to now. In part because of me. You're having a bad day and telling me why won't ruin anything” he says in his usual cadence like he’s commanding time and there's no rush.

“Can we talk about it later? Or never?” I propose and he scoffs letting me go. It’s happening faster than I could have even imagined. He sits on the edge of the bed. It takes me a moment to swallow my fears and try to fix it.

“Tell me a joke, make me laugh” I say to break up the silence and distance but it stretches on. The rejection starts to sting until he clears his throat.

“What do me and elephants have in common?’ he asks, turning to me. It’s a trap, a well laid trap and I can't help but smile.

“You're tall and strong?” I propose not playing into it.

“What else?” he asks with humour in his voice. I shake my head not wanting to give him a complex about his ears anymore than I already have.

“I don't know” I lie.

“We both never forget” he says, subverting my expectations and I laugh relieved to have not said the wrong thing. “And we have big ears,” he adds. I sit beside him and he taps on the sconces above his bed giving us dim light.

“What do you call a cow with no legs?” I ask.

“No clue” he shrugs.

“Ground beef” I respond and he shakes his head. “Your’s was worse” I snicker.

“It still made you smile,” he shrugs.

“I hope you know I didn't mean anything by it. I just felt cornered and was popping off at the mouth” I apologize.

“I know you weren't being malicious. I’ve heard much worse from people I pushed less. It’s pretty wholesome stuff for an agent” he says.

“Here I was feeling bad” I shrug and he takes my chin kissing me softly.

“I’m not someone you have to handle with kid gloves Lorena.” The look he gives me is both scathing and sympathetic. My shoulders fall and I start to feel bad for my emotions today. Here I have this man that’s asking to be there for me and ran into a life threatening situation to rescue me, and I’m allowing the actions of others who never showed me that same concern decades ago ruin things.

“I’m so-”

“Let’s start tonight over” Terry says, cutting my apology off. I can’t help but smile.

“Okay” I nod and he lifts me off the bed and sits me across his lap.

“I missed you” he says, smothering me in quick kisses.

“I missed you too” I take his chin, bringing his lips to mine.

“When you miss me, call me, as long as I’m not in the middle of something I’ll answer” he says.

“Okay”

“Got you something” he says and I sit up.

“Really?” I ask and he nods.

“It’s in the car let me go get it” he says standing and setting me down gently.

“Okay” I agree and he leaves. I look at my bag before going into it and grabbing the negligee. The bathroom lights flick on as I enter. It’s as impressive as what I've seen of the rest of the house. I rid myself of the pajama pants set and put on the night dress. I look myself over before walking back into the bedroom. I sit on the couch in the sitting area instead of the bed and he emerges with two bags. He looks up after setting them down. It takes a moment for him to locate me. His eyes focus on the change and he comes over holding a frame and something wrapped.

“The dress is nice,” he comments, drinking me in with his eyes.

“I don't sleep in pants usually - unless it's winter” I tell him as he takes the seat next to me.

“Good to know,” he says, placing the wrapped square on my lap. He turns on another lamp and I tear the brown wrapping paper. A night scene is in front of me and I smile the moment I recognize it. The beach at night, in Monaco where we sat together. I run my hand over the coarse texture of the sand.

“The artist used sand from the beach,” he says, confirming that’s where he spent the last few days.

“It’s gorgeous” I smile and he does too.

“You like it?” He asks and I nod. Getting this made for me only confirms I was on his mind while he was away.

“I do, thank you” I smile giving him a hug. He kisses my cheek before pulling out the frame housing the caricature art of us. In the chaos of my stuff being cleared out I thought for sure that art piece was left behind.

“I can't believe you had this framed” I laugh looking at it.

“The person at the studio said a frame was the best way to preserve it” he says and I kiss him.

“Now I’ve got to find somewhere to put this. I know where I’m gonna put the canvas” I tell him. “Thank you for thinking of me” I tell him and he seems to take a back.

“Lorena, I haven't stopped thinking about you since you walked into my office wearing that striped blue shirt and grey slacks.” he says stopping time. I turn to him and try to go back to that day. My heart races as I come up short on the memory. “Your hair was straight, parted in the middle and you smelled like flowers” he says. I swallow hard, blinking fast to keep the emotions at bay. My favorite perfume then was Miss Dior. Guilt swells as my appreciation grows and my emotions are a seesaw. “What?” he asks.

“I was doubting the logistics of us today. Not because I don't want to see where things go but … Terrance this is new for me. Not just that you're my boss and the CEO of the company I work for - I have to figure out to toe the line there. But even this; the sharing space … I probably don't make any sense. You already know I avoid uncomfortable situations and I like to run but I know I can't run from you … not that I want to but today it’s felt like my head wa in a pressure cooker” I confess struggling to articulate my complicated feelings and fears. Terry looks at me. His usual expression is replaced by an empathetic one. He reaches for me and places a kiss on my forehead instead of responding with words.

“What do you think?” I ask with a racing heart.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day” he says holding me instead of taking issue with my honest emotions. He’s so different from who I thought I knew him to be.

“You're not upset?” I ask.

“No” he says without needing to consider it. I take a moment before pulling back to look him over. He's resolute in his answer, his hand slides down over my dress resting on my hip. “You’re here now - in my arms, in my home, telling me how you felt, smelling good and looking better. What do I have to be upset about?” he asks, surprising me. “I’m not a CEO in this dynamic,” he says, placing a kiss on my shoulder.

“Your dominance is not something you can turn off” I tell him and he smiles. “I’m not asking you to either but it's there” I tell him and he takes a moment smiling again.

“What?” I ask.

“It’s not productive” he says, keeping whatever it is to himself.

“Tell me”

“There are better ways to clear your head,” he advises. After our walk on the beach, I sit forward ready to hear his advice.

“I’m listening?’ I say and he comes in for a kiss, when he pulls away he gets up and then somehow ends up on his knees in front of me. His eyes tell me where his mind is. I take a breath more familiar with this territory. He kisses each of my inner thighs.

“You have the CEO on his knees” he says, still dominating me in a submissive position. My heart races as passion pools in me. He waits for permission and I nod giving him the green light. His hands slide up my legs and under my thong, grabbing the sides he pulls it off. He scoots me forward gently on the side of my injury, he places kisses on my inner thighs sliding me onto my back comfortably before setting my legs over his shoulders so he’s locked in to my center and I’m locked in his hold. Terry caresses me, upping the tension and kindling sparks I didn't know existed. It leaves searing anticipation igniting all the parts of my body that drive sensory pleasure. He gives me a final look at the same time he takes my hand - our fingers interlock and his head dips out of sight and under the hiked up negligee. His beard tickles my center as he parts my other set of lips with his tongue.

The kiss builds to one of the ones my mouth is used to being treated with. My body’s reaction to him is something new as the tension builds. My hand caresses his waves in a gesture of encouragement and appreciation. There’s nothing to be said as my breaths grow increasingly more shallow. I go to cover my mouth but his fingers don’t release their grip on mine, not allowing the contact to break.

“Be as loud as you want baby” he says, giving me the green light. I swallow my moan and he blows on my clit sending a wave of pleasure through me. My moan is inevitable and when he starts sucking on it I'm finished. I squirm but he has me locked firmly in position giving me more and more.

“Stay still for me baby” he says, sounding so patient. I moan trying to oblige him but it's so much and so good.

“Let me hear you Lorence” he says pausing, before I can obey he adds one of his long fingers into me sucking and fucking me. Taunting me. My nipples are harder than ever. The nerve endings in my core are stimulated to the point of delirium.

“It feels so good” I praise his efforts.

“You’re perfect” he whispers finger fucking me as I come. His eyes are on me as I try to handle the sensations from the orgasmic relief. My body is several degrees hotter and I know he can see my nipples fighting to be seen and tended to under the silk dress. He keeps his eyes on me, letting one of my legs down and allowing me to watch him lap up my pleasure with the same attention to detail as he has for everything else. He's a perfectionist and that was nothing less. I sit up needing to kiss him, I pull him up to meet me so we’re face to face. Terry obliges the heat of his bare chest radiating into me, melting the apprehension away. I wrap my legs around his and feel his manhood poking me in my sternum through his pants. I want more, I need him. His eyes tell me we’re just getting started when the kiss is broken.

“Did you like that Lorence?” he smiles, licking what's left of my orgasm from his lips. His eyes spark as my expression changes. We’re so far gone from like, it’s time to practice making love.

authors note: sound off in the comments and let me know how you felt about getting to know Lorence's softer side and insecurities and how Terry's handling everything on his plate. Also, yes theres more 🌶️ 🌶️ 🌶️ in the next chapter - had to break it up because it was getting too long.

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#terry richmond x black female reader #terry richmond x black oc #terry richmond imagine #terry richmond #aaron pierre #aaron pierre fanfic #aaron pierre imagine #aaron fics #aaron pierre x black reader #rebel ridge fanfiction #rebel ridge

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afloweroutofstone · 7 months ago

Text

The inevitable downfall of the violent, dictatorial, neoliberal government of Assad is itself a moment worthy of celebration; yet the future of Syria is now up in the air. The hopes of the Syrian people now depend on the answers to many questions that we cannot conclusively predict right now. These unknowns include:

How will HTS function as a national government? Has their signaling towards a more moderate strand of Islamism in recent years been sincere, or was it just a show to allow them to function as the center of power in a rebel movement ranging from jihadists to secular socialists? Are they either motivated to or capable of making good on their promises of reconstruction and national institution-building out of the ashes of what now constitutes Syrian politics? Will they be a theocratic monolith like the House of Saud, a weak pluralist semi-democracy like Lebanon, a diverse semi-autocracy like Turkey, something more reminiscent of Assad’s secular nationalism, something else entirely?

Will HTS be able to establish unified control of the security situation? There is currently a lack of centralized authority, a rapid formation of new organized criminal syndicates trying to either loot or establish control over slivers of territory, and dozens of ideologically-motivated armed rebel groups with only loose loyalties to the HTS government. The Taliban government in Afghanistan is still fighting Islamic State rebels for full territorial control to this day. How long will this fighting last in Syria, and what forms will it take?

If HTS can establish control, will they be willing to be restrained in their monopoly on violence, or will they attempt to rule purely by force? This can often be a make-or-break moment for the evolution of new post-war governments.

How will the interventionist powers with a vested interest in Syria react? Russia owns a naval base and just lost an ally; the US owns a chunk of Syrian territory; Israel is already making offensive moves; Turkey is now the closest ally and sponsor of the new government; and Iran has its own proxy forces in the conflict (not to mention supply lines to other proxies in the Middle East). Is Turkey getting its first puppet state in the region (besides Northern Cyprus)? Will the new Syria be pressed in from all sides? Is it even possible for an independent Syria to emerge from this?

How aggressively will Israel pursue control over the Golan Heights? What has long been a frozen conflict is already turning hot now that Israel's sending troops in to expand its effective lines of control and double down on its (illegitimate, illegal) occupation of the area. What does HTS do in response, and more generally, how do they deal with the fact that they're now neighbors with Israel?

There are already some early signs of refugee inflows returning from the diaspora-- how widespread will this be, how quick will it be, and how it we be distributed geographically? Will states with large refugee populations pressure them into returning? There are perhaps 10-15 million Syrian people living abroad, with more than five million just in the countries immediately surrounding the nation- what happens to all of them?

Will the Kurds be allowed to participate in the post-war political process? This might seem to imply some form of formal break with the PKK in order to appease Turkey enough to participate in the official deliberations on Syria’s future. I'd be interested to hear what kind of arrangement they might pursue- maybe some form of autonomous zone comparable to that of Iraqi Kurdistan?

Will there be retaliatory violence against the Alawite minority who were favored by Assad’s dictatorship? Against any of the other ethno-religious minorities who faced violence by virtually every side of this conflict? Wars of this intensity do not vanish overnight, especially in a nation like Syria which is fractured along ethnic, religious, and political lines. HTS has made a point of noting that they believe in protecting minorities in Syria, but the test will be in how they now treat Kurds, Yazidis, Alawites, Druze, etc., etc.

#Syria

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inexplicifics · 6 months ago

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Ooooh, the warlord au where Jaskier volunteers made me gasp out loud. I’m so curious about it! Or, anything with Lambert/Aiden, with or without Milena or Voltehere. Thank you!

Have some moderately stressed Jaskier!

Jaskier’s father is a sensible man and a good ruler to his people, and so when the Warlord’s army arrived on Kerack’s borders, Jaskier’s father sent an offer of surrender at once. Jaskier’s eldest brother, Anton, who bore the offer into the very heart of the Warlord’s camp, said that the inhuman barbarians were rough of manner and coarse of speech, but none of them offered him true harm, and the surrender was received without any hesitation or sign that the Warlord would have preferred to conquer Kerack by bloody battle. And now the Warlord is coming to Lettenhove to receive the king’s surrender in person - and, as the whole family has agreed, to be given a hostage, a ward of his court, to make it very clear that Kerack has no intentions of rebelling against his rule. The hostage can’t be Anton, since he’s the heir. It can’t be Joseph, who is already married and whose wife Natalie has a babe on the way. It can’t be Elzbeth, who is betrothed. And it most certainly can’t be little Kory, who is just turned fourteen - no one could even think of sending her into such a dangerous situation. Which leaves only one of the king’s children available. Jaskier volunteered even before anyone could say anything.

I think he's going to be somewhat less traumatized than AWAU Jaskier, all things considered.

#questions answered #wip folders game

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fancyfeathers · 3 months ago

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I imagine that both Dick and Jason's darling state a damn domestic coup together for the right to see their little sister. The threaten hunger strike and everything until Tim lets her go.

And when he does, you bet she's getting the ass whooping of her story by her older sisters. Because how dare she? What the fuck was she thinking? She left their baby sister behind for this? For this mad plan? She really believed she could win against the Capitol alone?

After the whooping, they also probably hug her and cry all together. Tim's darling did everything to save them. She only wanted to have her family back. She planned, suffered and killed for it, and it was all for nothing.

Her only comfort now is try to kill Tim. She's convinced she will succeed one day. She killed many people already to win the Games. She can handle this one. She refuses to play the trophy darling wife part. Not like Tim wants her to, mind you.

Oh god, imagine that Damian's darling reaping is actually the worst one. The most heartbreaking. Her name gets rigged by the Major because his daughter was jealous of her, like with Lucy Gray. And her family is once again standing and watching horrified what's happening. Their baby sister. The youngest. The one they've always protected and pampered. She stands no chance.

And that's when someone volunteers for the other tribute. Steph or Cass's darling (or Barbara's)

Now they have to watch their sister AND their cousin fight and die in the arena.

Yandere!Batfam Hunger Games AU

Okay I genuinely think you read my mind with Damian’s darling, but I’ll get to that in a bit.

I genuinely think that they would do something like that though, probably with more of the goal of getting him to let her go completely, letting the public know she is alive. They just don’t get exactly what they want so a compromise is made instead where they can see her whenever they’d like at Tim’s home where she is kept under lock and key.

They both immediately start crying when they see her, but not before Dick’s darling gets in a slap across her face and yells at her, asking her what she was thinking. Their little sister is not strong enough physically to be a rebel, she may be smart enough to be, bye she needs the physical muscle to back up what she says and thinks, if it was not for her mentor outside of the arena she would be dead and she needs to realize that.

It becomes a tradition for the two of her sister to come and visit her just after lunch everyday, while their husbands are either at the university, game maker meetings, interviews, or some other type of job. Of course their conversations are moderated by a Capitol agent, one of the security guards in the house that know the little secret of Tim’s darling being alive. Then comes the day that Tim’s darling’s Victory Tour is supposed to be if she wasn’t named legally dead, so in her memory the cameras go to interview her family in the district, or what is left of them anyway…

None of the sisters living in the Capitol knew that their parents had died, each of them committing suicide after Tim’s darling was named dead, leaving the little sister in the care of her cousins, the oldest of which is just barely eighteen. Obviously they are angry because this was kept from them, the only thing that is keeping her alive is small amount of money from the sisters’ victories that is getting sent to them every month to pay for her food and her school, the only somewhat nice private school in the district so she could at least have somewhat of a future. She is a smart girl so she is sure that their sister is going to make it out the other side and move on past the pain, but of course she does make an enemy along the way…

So the day of the reaping comes along and since they married into a family of game makers they have to watch the reaping, only for the female tribute from their district to be called and all of their stomachs drop when they hear their sister’s name get called. Even their husbands are just as shocked as they are, this was not planned by them and Dick immediately gets up to make calls because he knows something is wrong and he is the one who knows the little girl the best from the months he spent living with his darling in the Victor’s Village with her family, Jason and Tim don’t do anything to prevent it, just silently watching as the male tribute gets names next and then there is a volunteer. It is twisting the the knife when they see their eldest cousin walk onto the stage, picking up his crying little cousin as those sickening words are spoken…

“May the odds be ever in your favor…”

The two of them are immediately Capitol favorites, the baby sister of three victors and her guardian angel of a cousin and then not the mention her two living big sisters are their mentors. But there is a small technicality…

Bruce sees his youngest son become smitten with the littlest sister, that is fine, just rig the games so she wins, problem solved. But then he sees his adopted daughter, Cassandra stare at the boy whenever he is on the screen (I imagine that in this AU that Cass is from a District Two family who’s father climbed the military ranks so Cass could be Capitol born and was adopted by Bruce either when Cass didn’t want to be a peacekeeper and was abandoned or her parents were killed by rebels).

Now there is a problem of deciding which child gets what they want.

They could pronoun two victors like they did with Katniss and Peeta, and sure that would make the Capitol citizens happy but that would anger the government when the districts start an uprising and the President has Bruce killed, and then it would not be so happy anymore. But there is another solution that would eliminate another problem when it is revealed how Damian’s darling got reaped, angering the mayor’s daughter in her district. Rigging the reaping is illegal and needs to be punished, so kill the mayor and have his daughter kidnapped and brainwashed during the days leading up to the games, it is amazing what cosmetic surgery can do to someone, make them look like an entirely different person.

So the interviews go off without a hitch, everyone in the Capitol eating up the cute little cousins. It is after her interviews when Damian’s darling is pulled away from Cass’ darling, the security team telling her cousin that it is just a quick photo shoot because her stylist wants to showcase her dress in their next fashion show. But in reality she is put into a car and driven somewhere, a quick meeting at the Presidential Mansion because the President wants to meet with her personally.

He speaks to her kindly, inviting her to sit down next to her where he meets with her outside in the garden of the mansion. He asks her if she knew why she was reaped and she admits she does not. He gives her a box with the cards from the reaping in her district, allowing her to read as many as she wants, it is all her name. Now the Capitol does not appreciate when the districts make choices without their permission and so they will be punished, how so is up to her. He reveals what happened to the Mayor’s daughter, they are going to make the mayor’s daughter participate in the games, looking like Damian’s darling and if she wins then she gets killed and Damian’s darling resumes her identity. At the end of their conversation, Bruce comes in upon the President’s invitation to pick up his son’s darling, telling her that she is going to be staying with their family for the foreseeable future.

In the games themselves, they are brutal, making it their goal to kill off the mayor’s daughter as soon as possible. Cass’ darling feels the pain of grief since he now has lost such a large piece of his family, but he has to keep on going since he knows if he gives up then he knows how pissed all of his cousins would be. So he pushes himself to keep on going even after she is gone.

He wins his games, a Capitol favorite, the guardian angel who kept on going as to not let down the ones he has lost. But after he is crowned victor he is taken somewhere, an estate of one of the game makers. He starts sobbing when he sees his little cousin alive and sitting in the family room next to a young man he has never met. The young girl practically sprints into her cousin’s arms, the fact that they both made it out alive is a miracle. Now there is a bit of a… complication.

She is engaged to Damian, the son of a game maker and a future game maker himself, it is the price for saving her life. In a few months it will be revealed what the mayor did and what consequences happened because of what he did and then their relationship will be made public, the Capitol painting it as a sweet and innocent little girl who was saved by the mercy of the Capitol and kept safe by one of the most influential family out of the kindness of their hearts as she recovered from what happened to her. In reality it was her being conditioned into being the perfect little wife for Damian, good behavior is rewarded in misbehavior is punished.

Meanwhile Cass’ darling gets a far more gentle breaking in since he is staying with their family since his little cousin is and he needs to make sure she is okay, she comes and sits with him the middle of the night when he wakes up screaming from nightmares about the games. Taking out for a late night stroll and getting seen by the fans, and over night the Capitol is fawning over the guardian angel victor and adopted daughter of Bruce Wayne. They are a lot more quiet than any of the other relationships, no interviews or anything of the sort, only random public appearances as she slowly breaks him in, a messed up form of stockholm syndrome kicking in, well that is until he finds out the games were rigged for him to win for this exact purpose when he finds letters on Bruce’s desk when looking for him…

He tries to get his younger cousin out in the middle of the night, run away to the north, but it does not take long before they are caught by peacekeepers and dragged back to where they were, locked away and reconditioned to where they need to be.

#yandere dc x reader #yandere dc #yandere justice league x reader #yandere justice league #yandere bruce wayne #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere batman #yandere batman x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere cassandra cain #yandere stephanie brown #yandere barbara gordon

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