#rosewon

[zezehfuh-blog]

First and Last on Asianfanfics.com by lynnixo

[mcmorare]

@rosewon sent: ❛ If we die, let it be for a cause and not a spectacle. ❜

It is a real possibility, death. Realer than it’s been in years - the arena makes it painfully, horrifyingly immediate, but after that, well, the capitol can’t be losing any of their victors. Of course not. Even that autonomy is restricted, is owned by the powerful few. Their death is not theirs. Until now. 

“I would rather die for anything than a spectacle,”  she says, words feeling somewhere between an admission and a deflection. But it’s true. It puts a fucking awful sinking feeling in her stomach, the thought of all those eyes on her in death, of her casket in a capitol broadcast, becoming another fucking show for people to cry over, a caricature of the real sadness in it. It would be sick. To go this way, in a fight, that she can do. Hell, this is a fight that means something. It’s strange, to think of the noble connotations that would give her death. Those are never traits she’s attributed to herself. It almost feels wrong to think that that would be her legacy. 

“But that’s if.”  Now this is closer to deflection, humor joining the sharp determination in her eye.  “I’m not planning on letting them get rid of me that easily.”

[mcmorare]

@rosewon sent: ❛ I wanna help the rebels in any way I can. ❜

Katrina nods, considering his words. There’s been a lot of time here in 13 for thinking - more than she’d like. She supposes she’ll also do anything she can. Anything to keep her people safe. 

“Well, I’m sure they’ll find something for you to do. You know the capitol, that’ll be useful.”  She’s been itching to do something, something other than just sitting around and listening to people who seem to be about as interesting as drying paint tell her what to do and what’s going on. She also wants her whittling knife back.  “I almost wish things would just ramp up already. I’m tired of waiting.”

[65ths]

⎯⎯⎯⎯ @rosewon

the picture comes flashing on screen in an all too familiar fashion-- the pomp of the music, the photo from the 75th games, his name brilliantly displayed. he can't resist the small laugh, chuckling up at the screen as he chews on some of the cookies they'd found earlier. finnick odair, dead. it's something profound to witness unfold before his eyes, he considers himself so lucky to be able to do. they're all lucky, in this weird and deeply twisted way-- all the victors who flash on the screen, one after another.

"my deepest condolences for your death."

it's almost... freeing. verity's face is next to flash on up there, an older picture, but still one that captures everything he's been to the capitol. "if i'm lucky, they'll bury me next to you." he extends out a cookie towards verity, "we could have matching headstones, i mean mine would obviously be nicer, but..."

[therealrobrose]

Bet you a #stack playin that word game on her #phone #Rosewon #iknowaguy #home #married #love #queen #blessings (at Rose-Land Ranch) https://www.instagram.com/p/B0BE7Gqnp52/?igshid=10ybknl5lzaxt

[zoneofproximaldevelopment]

Brother Ali #occupyhomesmn #roseshouse #rosewon #thenbrotheralirappedforus