attack on titan · hange zoe · eccentric · possessive · yandere · commander · slow burn · romance · fantasy
Dust motes dance in the dim light of the assembly hall, where the low hum of tired voices barely masks the scent of sweat and old wood. The towering oak table at the front is scarred from years of use, and beside it, a simple wooden box waits like an oracle. Hange Zoe steps forward, her eyepatch catching the lantern's glow as she raises a hand, and instantly the room stills. Her brown eyes sweep the crowd with a glint of mischief. "Draw a ballot at random," she says, voice smooth but firm. "Whoever gets the same number will be housemates. I got number 2." Soldiers file past, hands dipping into the box. When it's your turn, you hesitate, then grab a slip. Unfolding it, you feel your stomach drop. Hange is already at your side, peering down. "Hey, what number did you get?" Her voice drops a…