#for like the next week and a half after the 10th

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 78

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 5K

Masterlist

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Sunday, April 10th – Manchester Airport.

I've never been so excited to go on vacation. I'm sitting next to Lucy, holding her hand. We're waiting for our flight. Jenni and Alexia dropped us off an hour ago after we ate together, and now we're alone. It's soothing to be just the two of us, especially after the past few weeks.

"Excited?" Lucy whispers to me.

"Oh yes."

"It will be well-deserved."

We exchange a smile. After nonstop studying, tests, mock exams, and even working at the gallery with Grace for two Saturdays... Yes, I think it will be well-deserved. I've worked hard, but I don't regret it. It helped lift a huge weight off my shoulders. At least I've secured my spot at art school for next year. That's something. Now, as agreed with Lucy, I must step away from my studies for two weeks. It's difficult because my diploma is still on my mind. I worked hard, and I think I did quite well on my mock exams this week, but you never really know. In the meantime, I promised to make the most of these two weeks, so I’m trying not to think about it. The only thing I need to focus on is Lucy and our families.

"I was thinking we could go camping," I shared with Lucy.

"Camping, huh?"

"Yeah. We've talked about it so much. It would be a great opportunity. Or at least spend the evening on the beach! Oh my God, I’ve missed that so much," I said excitedly. "With a campfire, marshmallows, and—"

"Hey," Lucy laughed. "Relax. We'll have all the time to do whatever you want. It seems work has gotten to your head, huh?" she teased, running her hand through my hair.

"Are you making fun of me?" I asked, pouting.

"Oh no," she smiled mischievously.

"That was the deal, remember? I had to give it my all until vacation and then calm down afterward."

"That’s true. You didn’t sneak any study materials into your suitcase, did you? Maybe I should have checked."

"Stop," I giggled. "I wouldn’t do that."

"Oh no. That's not like you at all."

I laughed harder and playfully slapped her thigh at her irony. It's true I thought about it, but I didn't do it. I really want to enjoy this relaxing vacation. After all, we're going back home.

"Hey, none of that," she said, intertwining our fingers after my playful slap. "We have to endure almost 3 hours together in the air, so let’s not start hitting each other."

"True, but we'll sleep through half of it, so you don’t have to worry."

"Speak for yourself. You're a real napper."

I smiled. It's hard to argue with that. I enjoy being calm in moments like this. Finally, boarding time arrives. This is going to be a long trip. My six-hour flight back to Barcelona will seem like nothing compared to the nineteen hours we're about to face, with a layover, no less. We settle into our seats after passing through security. It's a shame, but I won’t see Shay here. She explained that she tries to be on the Barcelona flight as often as possible because her boyfriend lives there.

"Do you take this trip often?" I asked my girlfriend, gazing out of the window.

I’m eager to take off, but also nervous. I've never liked flying to Portugal. I wonder how Lucy feels about it. I remember she's not particularly fond of flying either.

"I think I’ve told you before," she answered. "I visit my parents twice a year… although, that might change next year."

"Why? Because of me? Please don't say that. I haven’t even met your parents yet, and they're going to hate me."

"Why are you getting so worked up?" she laughed. "Of course not. The venue will take up a lot of my time. I'll have other things to do than visit them. They'll just have to come to me for once."

"Okay," I murmured.

"Are you still nervous about meeting them?"

"A little…"

"Everything will be fine, I promise."

I smiled as she brought my hand to her lips. She makes me feel like everything's going to be okay. It’s crazy.

"Come on, get some rest. The trip is long, so you might as well recharge."

"Doesn’t it bother you...?"

"Sweetheart, you’ve been pushing yourself hard for three weeks. I know you’re tired. Rest, this is your time."

"Okay," I murmured. "Promise you won’t let me sleep too long though? I don’t want to leave you alone for the entire trip."

"Sweetheart, don’t worry about that. Sleep. We’ll have plenty of time to enjoy each other’s company when we land."

She nudged me to rest my head against her. I smiled and settled into a comfortable position. It’s true, a little rest wouldn’t hurt. I’ve been going non-stop. It’s time to relax, but before that... she’s right. I need some rest.

"Thank you," I murmured as I watched the takeoff through the window.

My eyelids felt heavy after half an hour. I tried to stay awake to keep Lucy company, but she seemed to avoid talking to help me fall asleep. It didn’t take long.

Sunday, April 10th, – Lisbon Airport.

It's either early or late... I’m not sure anymore. Now I remember why I hate jet lag. The good thing is the flight made me forget the time and regain some energy. I feel great, and I think Lucy does too. We’ve got silly smiles on our faces. We know we’ll finally be able to live safely here. We were so happy to return to our homeland. As we enter the terminal, I immediately spot my grandpa. Lucy must have sensed my excitement because she released my hand without saying a word, letting me run toward him. I immediately hug him tightly.

"I'm so happy to see you again! I missed you."

"And I missed you."

We pull apart, and I turn toward Lucy, who’s now by my side again. Before I even have time to introduce them, my grandpa asks:

"Well, is this the lucky one?" he says with a grin.

"Yes. Grandpa, this is Lucy. Lucy, this is Charlie Batlle, my grandfather."

"Nice to finally meet you. Ona’s told me a lot about you."

She smiles genuinely, though I can tell there’s a bit of tension behind it. My grandpa chuckles and catches her off guard by giving her a big hug.

"Forget formalities with me, dear. It’s a pleasure to meet my granddaughter’s girlfriend."

I smile in return. I didn’t expect this meeting to go any other way. My grandpa has such a big heart. When I told him who I was coming with, he was thrilled. I expected nothing less from him.

"How was the flight?" he asks as we start walking.

"Long, but overall good."

"Oh yes, it’s quite a haul. But we’re glad to finally be here."

I let them chat as I take in my surroundings. Just feeling the ground beneath my feet is a pleasure. My legs had started to go numb from sitting for so long. The sun shines through the large windows, making me smile. I feel like a ball of energy. It's wonderful to be back, but also hard. The last time I was here was for my father’s funeral... I don’t have time to dwell on it, though, as we grab our bags and head outside. The weather feels nice. A bit cool, but I’m not surprised given the time. It's early, and this time of year, we’re in autumn. I think we’ll be lucky. It feels mild, and we’ll be able to do lots of outdoor activities like we talked about on the plane.

"How’s the weather?" I ask my grandpa for his opinion.

- "I think you're going to be lucky in the next few days," he replies with a smile.

- "Great."

We walk through the parking lot, looking for his car. I spot it immediately, remembering it perfectly.

- "Oh, you still have your old pickup!? I can't believe it!"

I rush over to it, making my girlfriend laugh. I've always loved this car. My grandfather used to let me sit in the back whenever we took short trips. I expected him to have gotten rid of it by now.

- "It's a nice car," Lucy comments, running her hand over the bodywork. "1970 Chevrolet, right?"

- "Yes, that's right," my grandfather says, surprised. "You like cars?"

- "She loves them," I chime in before Lucy can respond. "She's a huge fan. If there's anyone you can talk to about your old cars, it's definitely her."

- "She's exaggerating," my girlfriend replies, a bit embarrassed. "I know a little thanks to my dad. He loves them, so I guess I inherited that from him."

- "Do you know a bit about mechanics?" he continues. "Because I think this old thing could use a little tune-up."

- "Oh. Well, I can take a look if you'd like. I restored my first car with my dad, and it was about the same age, so I think I can manage."

- "Really?" I say, surprised. "I didn't know that."

I knew she liked cars, but I never knew where it came from. Now I do. I think these holidays are going to be a way for us to learn more about each other. After all, we’re returning to our roots.

- "I wouldn't be as interesting if I told you everything all at once," she teases, making my grandfather laugh.

- "She's right! That's how I kept your grandmother for all those years."

He adores my girlfriend, it's obvious. I couldn't be happier. His opinion matters a lot to me. It's like my dad accepting her.

- "What was her name?" Lucy asks.

- "Mandie."

- "That's a beautiful name. We’ll have to keep it in mind for later."

I blush at this comment, which is clearly not a joke. It's obvious she means it. I think back to the conversation we had at the restaurant. She really does want to have kids with me someday. Finally, we pack our things into the back. Once we're done, my grandfather hands the keys to my girlfriend.

- "Oh, um..."

She looks at me, unsure of what to do. I shrug with a little smile.

- "I wouldn’t say no if I were you. You must be dying to, and let’s just say he doesn’t let just anyone drive his baby..."

- "Oh yes, that's for sure," confirms my grandfather.

- "I don’t even know the way," she tries to argue.

- "Well, we’ll guide you," I reply. "Come on, I'll sit next to you."

I snatch the keys from my grandfather and drag Lucy to encourage her to do it. I sit in the middle to stay by her side. I can tell she's feeling a bit awkward behind the wheel, but that quickly fades once we leave the airport. I smile because it's clear she's enjoying herself. The engine purrs, showing its age, but it still drives smoothly. It just needs a good clean-up. On the other side, I can see my grandfather is happy too. He was so excited to know we were coming. It's been a long time since anyone visited him. I know he knows a lot of people here, but it must be tough losing all your loved ones and being left without family nearby. In any case, he's in great shape. He hasn’t stopped talking the entire ride. I'm really glad I got some sleep on the plane; otherwise, I wouldn’t have handled this conversation as well given the time of day. On the other hand, I'm enjoying seeing Lisbon again. It feels like home. I smile when Lucy parks in front of the family house. It’s a little home that I’ve always been particularly fond of. We’re far from the city, and there’s a small beach just behind it. I’ve always found this place to be peaceful. Lucy must think the same, judging by the way she looks at the house with wonder.

- "You must be starving," says my grandfather as he gets out of the car. "I’ll go make you both some breakfast. Ona, why don’t you show her around the house while you wait?"

- "Yeah," I say, snapping out of my thoughts. "Yeah, of course. Thanks."

We get out as well, and I smile as I watch Lucy taking it all in. It feels strange to see her here, far from our obligations, but especially at my place. I finally feel like her girlfriend and not just her student.

- "Not bad, huh?" I ask, nudging her playfully.

- "It’s beautiful, indeed," she says with a small smile. "Is this the family home?"

- "Yeah... This was my dad’s last home," I confess.

- "Really?" she raises an eyebrow.

- "Yeah. He came back to live here after... my grandmother passed away and my parents divorced."

- "I see," she nods. "It’s a lovely place, though," she whispers. "You must have a lot of memories here."

- "Oh yes..." I breathe.

I squeal in surprise as we’re interrupted by a ball of fur that literally jumps on me. Lucy bursts out laughing and crouches down to greet the dog, who quickly forgets about me.

- "I can’t believe it! A little petting, and he’s off to someone else," I grumble, making my girlfriend smile.

- "Good thing humans aren’t like that. So, aren’t you going to introduce me?" she teases. "It’s an Australian Shepherd, isn’t it?"

I laugh, shaking my head.

- "Yes, that’s right. Let me introduce you to Buzz, the youngest member of the family. Well, sort of!" I giggle.

- "Wow. He seems like such a sweet dog."

I tilt my head with a smile, noticing she’s clearly no longer paying attention to me at the moment. Oh, so she really loves dogs, huh? Another thing I didn’t know. I crouch down too and finally manage to get the dog’s attention, along with Lucy’s.

- "Do you like dogs?" she asks me.

- "I do, yes. I didn’t know you were such a fan."

- "Oh, I love them, but they need a lot of attention, unfortunately."

- "That’s true."

I start petting Buzz too. I missed him. My dad wanted to get a dog so my grandfather wouldn’t be alone when he was away on missions. My grandfather wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, but in the end, he’s the one most attached to Buzz.

- "Maybe we could consider getting one."

I look up at Lucy in surprise.

- "Really?"

- "Well, why not? Maybe not right away, but once we see how our schedule is next year. If everything works out, we could get one."

- "Definitely, yes!"

I nod enthusiastically, making Lucy laugh. It would be a great first step toward commitment.

- "Alright," she says, standing up.

- "I should really show you around the house," I announce, standing up too.

We grab our bags and head inside. It feels strange being here again... The last time I was, my dad was still around. It’s bittersweet because I’ve always loved his rustic style. Lucy must have noticed my change in mood because she gently places her hand on my back.

- "Will you show me our room?"

I smile shyly and nod. From where we’re standing, we can see the living room, but I lead her upstairs to our left instead. Lucy follows closely behind. The house isn’t very big, but it has three bedrooms and a bathroom just on the upper floor. Mine is at the end. When we walk through the door, we’re greeted by a room flooded with light from a large bay window that opens onto a small terrace, almost as small as my room itself. It’s barely big enough for a bed and a wardrobe, but it’s more than enough. I chose this room because I fell in love with the view of the sea. I’ve lost count of how many times I left the curtains open just to wake up to that view, accompanied by the sound of the waves. It feels like paradise. Nothing has been moved, yet I can tell everything is clean. My grandfather must have taken the time to tidy up.

"It’s lovely," she whispers, pulling me out of my memories. "Is that your dad? »

I nod as she points to a picture of us. To be honest, it's the last one we took together. We were in the back, by the sea, and he tried to throw me into the water when we had just arrived here. In the end, it made for a beautiful shot, taken by my grandfather.

"You look a lot like him," she says with a small, sad smile. "How about we take a walk this afternoon? We can visit his grave while we're at it."

"Really?" I reply, surprised. "I mean, I don't want to burden you with that. I would have done it another time, like when you go for your morning run."

"Don't be silly. I'd like to come with you, if that's okay."

I smile softly and nod. I didn't want to pressure her, but if it's her idea, I won't say no.

"Okay... Thank you."

"It's nothing. You seem uneasy... Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah. It's just strange to be here..."

"You haven't been back since?"

"No," I admit. "We came back for the funeral, but..."

I take a deep breath. She has a right to know, after all.

"I didn't have the courage to set foot here again. I made my mom book us hotel rooms."

She nods in understanding.

"Come here."

She opens her arms, and I immediately snuggle into her embrace. She kisses my forehead, holding me tightly.

"It’ll be okay, alright? He wouldn't want to see you like this."

"I know... But it's stronger than me."

"Okay," she says, pulling back. "You know what? We didn't come here to mope around, so... How about we plan that stargazing night tonight instead? We can always take that walk another day. I can see you need a distraction."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah. If I'd known there was a beach right behind the house, I would've agreed to this sooner. Might as well enjoy it while the weather's nice. It might not last long."

She's amazing... She always finds ways to lift my spirits. I smile and nod. There's no rush now that we're here, but I really like this idea to start things off.

"Great... And what do you say we help your grandfather now? I can already smell waffles, and honestly, I’m starving."

I laugh and nod. If there’s one thing that didn’t go well during the trip, it’s the meals over the past few hours. A good breakfast will do us good.

"Yeah... You're right. You’ll be impressed. His waffles are the best."

"Oh, really? Better than mine?"

"Um... Hard to say... But yes. I’d say so," I tease, grinning.

"Oh, really? I might need to remind you otherwise..."

"Wh-"

I don’t even get to finish my sentence before she attacks me with tickles. I burst out laughing, squirming to escape her grasp, but it's no use. I accidentally pull her down onto the bed, but she still keeps control. I tend to forget just how strong she is.

"S-stop, p-please."

"Oh, now you’re begging?"

I can barely catch my breath. Lucy slows down, but her laughter still echoes in my head.

"So? Are you going to admit my waffles are the best?"

I try to breathe, but giggles still escape. Her fingers hover threateningly over my stomach, as if daring me to give the wrong answer. I grin, deciding to play along.

"I’m not changing my mind," I say with exaggerated seriousness.

Her mock-offended expression makes me smile like an idiot. I love when we’re like this together.

"Oh yeah? And what should I do to change your mind, huh? Oh, I think I know..."

I laugh as her lips brush against my neck.

"Please. You can’t torture me like this."

"Oh really?" she whispers. "I think I’m the only one who has the right to torture you like this."

I wrap my arms around her neck. I can’t help it. What I wasn’t expecting was for her to start tickling me again, this time under my shirt. The sneaky move leaves me laughing uncontrollably, unable to defend myself.

"S-stop, stop! Okay, okay, you win! Yours are the best! Yours are the best!"

The torture stops at my pleas. The next moment, her lips meet mine, and I immediately relax. I laugh as I try to catch my breath. She really is the one I need, no doubt about it.

"See? That wasn’t so hard."

"Girls?" my grandfather calls out. "Everything’s ready, if you’re hungry."

"Well, look at that. We didn’t even get to help your grandpa."

"He’ll survive," I murmur before kissing her.

I wrap my legs around her waist, but Lucy doesn't seem to agree. Though she chuckles, she gently pushes them away.

"Sweetheart..."

"What?" I laugh. "He can wait two more minutes."

"Okay," she sighs.

She kisses me back. I smile as I feel her hand caressing my stomach. She doesn’t even realize how much she drives me crazy... or maybe she does, judging by the way I move my hips against her.

"Not here, and definitely not now," she teases. "We need to go down."

"But!"

I groan in protest, making her laugh softly. She’s so adorable, looking at me with her head tilted. Her eyes drift down my body, and I realize my shirt is pushed up to my chest. I quickly pull it down, which brings her gaze back to my face.

"If I don’t get to, neither do you."

"Oh, you’re like that now?"

"Yep. Too bad for you. You’re missing out."

I get up from the bed and walk down the hallway, purposely swaying my hips for her to watch. I can hear her laughing behind me, which makes me turn around to stick my tongue out at her. What I wasn’t expecting was for her to catch up and grab my butt at that exact moment.

"Don’t worry, I plan to take care of that during this vacation," she whispers to me.

"Really?" I reply, breathless. "If you stick to your rule of no hooking up under family roofs, we won’t be doing much of anything."

"Who said it would be in a bed?"

Her comment stops me at the top of the stairs. Did I hear that right? Where did my innocent girlfriend go!? It’s her turn to tease me with a playful smile as she walks into the living room where my grandfather is waiting for us. Oh my God. We’ve only just started our vacation, but I don’t know why, I feel like this will be the best one we’ve ever had. Then again, we came here... there's no other word. We understand each other, we live together. I’ve never had it so easy with anyone else. My father was right. In life, you only meet one true love. It doesn’t matter how many people come before or even after... but there’s only one, and you feel it instantly. You just have to be lucky enough to find them. I think I knew from the first day what Lucy would mean to me. I was scared at first. After all, we each tried to push the other away with all our strength... But once again, my father was right. You can’t avoid the inevitable. Fate wanted us to be together, and here we are. One thing’s for sure, I’m not going to repeat my parents' mistakes. Lucy is going to be my priority, and I’ll make sure to nurture our relationship. It’s my turn to show her she deserves the world. Smiling, I join her as she’s already deep in conversation with my grandfather about old cars. Yeah, this woman is perfect.

[nomaishuttle]

aughhhhh i wish i had books 2 read i wanna read books so bad rn 🤓 <- i look like this. 2 pictures of me 👇

[darknight3904]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕽𝖆𝖈𝖊

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ᴏᴄ! ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ / ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ /ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜɴᴇʀᴀʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀᴅʏ ʟᴀᴇɴᴀ ʜᴀꜱ ʙʀᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ. ɴᴇᴡ ᴅᴏᴏʀꜱ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴀᴅʏ ʀʜᴀᴇʟʟᴀ ᴀꜱ ɪᴛ ꜱᴇᴇᴍꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ʜᴀꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ.

126 AC

It has been nearly half a year since Rhaella last saw Daemon. Her...father had flown back to Pentos with his family a fortnight after her name day. Most of his time in Kings Landing had been spent trying to gain her attention. Much to his dismay, she had ignored him and only spoken to him no more than four sentences at most. She stared at the dagger he had the blacksmith of the castle make.

"Valyrian steel. It was a gift from my father when I turned 11. I had the smith change the hilt to something more feminine. "

The once black hilt was now inlaid with gleaming sapphires all of different sizes. It had been a marvelous gift, if only the giver had been someone she actually liked. She had quietly murmured her thanks to him and then watched as he walked off to join his wife.

"If you don't like it, I'll take it." Aemond said

"You are mad if you think I'll give my Valyrian steel to you." She said

"I'm just saying...if you decide it is ugly, I will take good care of it." He shrugs

Rhaella sighs. Aemond had been getting rather bold. When she asked Edric he had said it was apart of what boys did when they grew up. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted Aemond to grow up. Sure, she was already a year older than him and his 10th name day had been many weeks ago. All she knew was that once you became old you had responsibilities. Responsibilities that would keep them from seeing each other daily the way they did now.

"I thought you wanted to practice your Valyrian? Isn't that why we are in the Godswood, because it is quiet?" Aemond asked

"We are in the Godswood because you complained my room was boring and yours too stuffy for studying." She reminded him

"Iykirī." Aemond says to her rising tone

Calm down

"I am calm, kirimvose." She says, a mocking tone dripping at the end of her sentence

Thank you

Aemond rolls his eyes and goes back to attempting to translate. Rhaella's eyes fall to the bright yellow wildflowers growing next to her. Aemond's hair catches her eye as it practically glitters in the sun. He has elected to leave it out of its normal half-up style and Rhaella has found it mesmerizing.

"You are staring again." He says

"Your hair looks amazing today." She compliments

"I need to cut it. It is annoying me." He says, his ears turning red at her praise

"I quite like long the longer hair on you." She says picking a flower

"You do?" Aemond asks

"Of course. It reminds me of my own. Not to mention I am sure ladies of the court will love it." She says

"I do not care what ladies of the court think of me." Aemond dismisses

"I am a lady of the court. Do you not care what I think?" She teases

"That is entirely different..." Aemond says

"It is not." She laughs

"It is." He says

The days in Kings Landing had grown repetitive for Rhaella. Rhaenrya's family had moved to Dragonstone three moons ago. Rhaella never understood why they had to leave, just that they did. She missed the ever-mischievous Jacaerys and Lucerys and the pranks they'd play on Aemond and even Aegon on occasion.

Now, her days were long, filled with lessons and needlework. After Rhaenrya had left Ser Harwin had returned to his home at Harrenhal after an issue with Ser Criston. Queen Alicent had elected to stop Rhaella's sword training and now she spent her days with Helaena hoping Aemond would come find her after his own training. Of course, the most shocking part of it all was Ser Harwin and his father's death in a terrible fire, Rhaella could hardly believe she'd never be able to see the muscly, curly-headed man again.

"My prince, My lady." A handmaiden interrupted their "studying", "The queen summons both of you to her chamber. It is urgent."

Rhaella was never entirely sure what to think of Queen Alicent. Sure, she was beautiful and graceful, and Rhaella liked her curly hair. But, her countenance had always been a bit drawn to her. Perhaps it was because she was Daemon's child. It was no secret that the queen did not like her husband's brother. Of course, Rhaella didn't even like the kings brother...

Driftmark was beautiful. Even the sadness of Lady Laena's death could not dampen the ocean's beauty. Seagull's voice's drowned out the voice of Vaemond Velaryon as he spoke of salt in Velaryon's blood.

Rhaella looked at Baela and Rhaena who were standing close to their grandmother. She felt a twinge of sadness as she watched her half-sisters cry, life without a mother was hard. She of course had no memories of her own but still, life would have been easier had Lady Rhea lived.

The solemnness of the whole ordeal was broken when Daemon laughed. Rhaella could not understand what might have been funny at this moment. Surely he was sad that his wife had died, along with what would have been their third child together.

Rhaella watched Daemon sip his wine. He was entirely alone, staring at the open water while many congregated and gave condolences to Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys. She supposed she should offer her sorrows to him, Queen Alicent said that it was the proper thing to say to those who have lost a loved one.

"Mother has engaged Aegon and Heleana," Aemond said, suddenly coming up to her

"I am aware. My handmaid told me a week ago." She said

"He does not even want her though." Aemond said

He seemed almost upset. Surely Aemond did not love Heleana like that...Edric had always said husbands and wives had different love than that of siblings.

"You wish to marry her?" Rhaella asked, ignoring the tightening in her stomach at the idea. She wasn't even sure why she felt like this, Aemond was free to marry whoever he wished, he was a prince.

"I would do my duty." Aemond said, " I just do not think Aegon deserves her."

Rhaella had to cover her mouth at his statement. As far as she was concerned Aegon didn't deserve any noble lady as a wife. Whispers of his activities flowed through the Red Keep like water.

"Do you want to walk along the coast line with me? I want to bring seashells home for my room." Aemond said

Rhaella wanted to accept, surely seashell hunting would be more enjoyable. Yet, she felt drawn to staying as he eyes fell on Baela who had an arm around her sister.

"Perhaps later." She said before walking away

"Lady Rhaella." Baela greeted, getting ready to stand

"Do not trouble yourself. I wanted to offer my sorrows and...prayers for your mother." Rhaella said awkwardly, she wished she was better at starting conversations. It had been over a year since she left the isolation of Runestone and yet her social skills were still subpar.

"Thank you," Baela said

Rhaena did not speak but offered a small, sad smile.

Cool wind pushes her hair off her shoulders and stings her skin. Aemond is staring at her from the spot she left him at. His face seems to beg her to come back, to save him from Aegon who is now talking his ears off.

"Have you spoken to our father?" Rhaena asked suddenly

She did not want to, not after the disastrous name day celebration.

"I have not." She said

"Perhaps she does not wish to speak to him, Rhaena." Baela scolded her sister

"I was just asking." Rhaena sighed

"I do not know how to speak to him. Anytime I look at him, it is like my throat closes up." Rhaella said sadly, "I don't think he likes me."

Many hours later, Rhaella is awoken by Baela above her, shaking her shoulders.

"It is the middle of the night." She groaned, scolding her younger half-sister, "We can speak of Daemon tomorrow."

"This isn't about Daemon." Jacaery's voice says

Rhaella wants to bury her head under the blankets and never return. They were only a few years younger than her, why were they all so annoying? All she wants is to sleep.

"Someone has stolen Vhagar!" Baela whispers

Vhagar? Her mother's dragon? Who could steal a beast like that?

She rolls out of bed, nearly tripping on her blankets while her cousins and half-sisters have already dashed out the door. Perhaps they'd be lucky and Vhagar had just chosen to go for a midnight flight, dragons were mysterious creatures to her.

Loud shouts were echoing as she ran after them. What could they possibly be doing? When she finally reaches the long hall where they had stopped her eyes widened. Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena were all kicking and punching Aemond of all people. Her closest friend was on his back with his arms protecting his face.

"What are you all doing?" She yelled, running to pull Jacaerys away

"He stole our mother's dragon!" Baela said pausing her kicking to point at Aemond

"She was mine to claim. Not yours!" Rhaena said

"As I said, you should have claimed her. She is mine now." Aemond said from his spot on the ground

Rhaella isn't sure what to think. She could barely wrap her head around what was happening. Aemond had claimed a dragon, and the biggest living one at that.

"Jace can find you a pig to ride," Aemond says mockingly to Rhaena

"Stop!" Rhaella yells when her half-sisters resume their hitting and Jace wiggles out of her arms to join them and his little brother.

It all happens so fast, Aemond who is bigger than everyone except her quickly overpowers their younger relatives. He throws Rhaena and Baela off him with ease and sends a hard punch to Jacaerys' face. It is only when the smallest, Lucerys has his neck being grasped by Aemond that her feet seem to work again.

"Aemond. Stop this madness," She commanded, pulling at his hand around the little boys neck that refused to budge

Despite her slight height advantage, Aemond was determined and Rhaella found herself unable to move him.

Perhaps it is the adrenaline of it all, claiming a dragon, being beaten by your cousins but, Aemond spares her no more than a hard gaze before taking his spare hand and punching her directly in the nose.

It is like she has forgotten every lesson Ser Hawin ever taught as warm blood flows freely down her face and into the dirt she landed in. Her eyes water from the suddeness of it all and perhaps the pain that came with the impact of his fist.

"You will die screaming in flames just as your father did. Bastards." Aemond says, holding a large rock over Lucery's head.

"My father is alive." He wails

"He doesn't know, does he, Lord Strong?" Aemond mocks, questioning their cousin's birthright.

Rhaella feels her heart drop to her feet when she sees Jace pull a small knife from its scabbard.

"Jace!" Baela calls

Rhaella's head turns as she looks at her half-sisters next to her. She grabs Baela's hand and squeezes tightly, ignoring how her nose bleeds. She wants to get up and stop them yet fear and dizziness from Aemond's hand keep her on the ground.

Aemond uses his size against Jace and raises the rock again, this time, meaning to being it down on his head. A handful of dust is thrown at her friend and a bit of it gets in her own eyes as pained screams fill the air. What has happened?

She rubs the dirt out of her eyes and sees Aemond on the ground clutching at his face. Deep red stains the dirt below him as he yells. Rhaella glances at the blade which is still clutched in Lucery's hand.

"Aemond!" She gasps, abandoning Baela to kneel next to him, "Aemond move your hand I cannot help you if you do not..."

Aemond's blood mixes with hers on her hands as she tries to look at the wound while he continues to wail. She moves his head into her lap and brushes away the silver hair that is sticking to his face and becoming slick with blood. Perhaps she could tear a bit of her night dress off to stop the bleeding. Then, she'd help him back to the castle and find a Maester.

"Cease this at once!" Ser Harrold's voice fills her ears, "Move away."

His arms lift her away from Aemond who is still clutching at his face. She cannot see what the wound looks like from behind Ser Harrold but she can hear his gasp.

"God's be good."

Aemond's eye is gone forever. Rhaella is sure of it as she watches Driftmark's Maester slowly stitch his skin together. Queen Alicent sits next to Aemond, holding his hand while he squirms each time the needle touches his skin.

"The eye is lost, Your Grace." the Maester confirms her suspicions.

"I will have answers as to what happened," Viserys says, clearly angry

Rhaella did not expect everyone to begin speaking at once. Rhaena and Baela are pointing and shouting at Aemond while Jace argues directly with Aemond despite Rhaenrya holding his arms. She isn't sure what to say, or if her voice will even be heard. Instead, she lets her eyes scan the room where they land on Daemon. Her father leans on the door and watches the scene unfold the way she is. His eyes meet hers and she can tell he is taking in her appearance. Surely she is still covered in blood from her nose, which has thankfully stopped its bleeding.

"Enough!" the king's voice silences everyone, "I want the truth."

"What more is there? Your son has been maimed," Alicent says, "Her sons are responsible. Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the fight, he meant to kill my son."

That was a lie, the blade was never Luke's and Rhaella was sure her cousins didn't mean to kill.

"My sons were attacked and forced to defend themselves." Rhaenrya says, stepping in front of her sons, "Vile insults were said about them."

"What insults?" Viserys tiredly asked

"The legitimacy of their birth," Rhaenrya said

The room fell silent as Rhaenrya addressed the rumors that had swirled around her family for so many years. Rhaella remembered the first time she had heard people muttering that Jace and Luke were bastards. Perhaps it was true, they looked nothing like Ser Laenor yet Rhaella did not see why it mattered. Laenor had always seemed like a wonderful father to them.

"He called us bastards," Jace said, stepping from behind Rhaenrya to address the king.

Rhaella peers around Alicent who is blocking her view of Aemond. She is surprised to see a small smirk on his lips.

"This is treason. My sons are in line for the Iron Throne. Aemond must be questioned to learn where he heard these words." Rhaenrya says.

"My son has lost an eye." Alicent says

"Aemond. Where did you hear these lies?" Viserys asks

A long pause ensues and her friend does not speak.

Only the crackle of the fire is heard as Aemond opens his mouth.

"It was Aegon."

Rhaella along with everyone else turns to stare at the older boy.

"Me?" He breathes, clearly not expecting to be involved in it all.

"Where did you hear of them?" Viserys asks, walking to him.

Aegon avoids eye contact with his father and stares ahead, a decision that didn't seem smart to Rhaella.

"Aegon! Tell me the truth of it!" Viserys suddenly yells making Rhaella jump

"We know father. Everyone knows...Just look at them." Aegon says slowly glancing over.

Rhaella looks at her younger cousins whose brown hair looks even darker than normal in the poorly lit room. The lack of the Valyrian features on their faces was plain as day.

"And you?"

Rhaella suddenly feels eyes on her.

"What did you see?" Viserys asks, walking towards her, cane thumping being the only noise.

"I...was a few moments behind Baela and Rhaena. When I arrived they were kicking and punching Prince Aemond who was on the ground." Rhaella says, trying not to stutter, "He pushed them all off and then insulted Jace and Luke, while holding a rock above their heads."

She glances around the room and finds Daemon staring at her, a look of interest is on his face as she continues.

"I tried to stop him from strangling Luke but, Aemond hit me and then the blade was brought out and he...was cut by one of my cousins." Rhaella says

"Lucerys cut him. He took my son's eye, Viserys." Alicent says

Viserys looks down at Rhaella who meets his eyes.

"This interminable fighting must cease! All of you!" Viserys suddenly yells, turning to face everyone once more, "We are family...make your apologies and show goodwill towards one another."

Surely that cannot be it? Rhaella cannot belive what is happening. She expected more, an insult like the one Aemond said was surely worth a punishment, not that she wanted to see him punished...she just knew what he said had been wrong, even if his eye was gone because of it.

"There is a debt to be paid." Alicent says

Rhaella looks at the queen. Tears are in her eyes yet Rhaella does not detect any sadness on her face.

"Do not allow temper to cloud your vision," Viserys says to his wife

The king begins to walk away as Alicent speaks again.

"If the king does not seek justice the queen will. Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velyaron, he may choose which eye he can keep, a pleasure he did not give my son."

"You will do no such thing," Rhaenrya sharply says

Rhaella can feel her heart begin to race. The tension in the room is enough to drive anyone mad as the king turns around.

"Stay your hand." He orders

"You're sworn to me!" Alicent suddenly yells

"As your protector." Ser Criston reminds her.

"This matter is finished." Viserys says, "Anyone whose tongue questions Princess Rhaenrya's sons legitimacy shall have it removed."

Rhaella looks at Aemond who avoids her gaze, in turn looking at his hands which are caked in his own blood.

Chaos is the only word she could use to describe what happened next. In a flash, Alicent had grabbed the king's dagger and was grappling with Rhaenrya, all for Lucery's eye.

Rhaella stumbles back as Ser Harold rushes into the fray, barking orders at Ser Criston. Lucerys' loud screams are what reach her ears as Rhaenrya and Alicent have their exchange.

"Exhausting isn't it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness?" Rhaenrya's voice sends a chill down Rhaella's spine, "But now they see you as you are."

The blade makes a cut, swift and unforgiving, as Alicent and Rhaenrya quickly move away from each other. Rhaella gasps when she sees Rhaenrya's blood trickle onto the floor.

Aemond finally rises from his spot and he looks at her for just a second. His single eye is unreadable to her as he goes to his mother.

"It was a fair exchange." He says, "I may have lost an eye...but I gained a dragon."

Three days later:

Packing is never something she has enjoyed. Her handmaid helps her fold her clothes neatly as if the ship will not mess them up in their journey back to Kings Landing.

"Rhaella?" A voice calls followed by a knock

"Yes?" She answers "Come in."

Rhaena and Baela push her door open and enter her chamber.

"Our grandmother told us to come find you. She said we ought to ask and not her." Rhaena said

"Ask me what?" She asks

"Say it." Baela whispers

"You do it! I opened the door!" Rhaena said, jabbing an elbow at her twin

"That is hardly a reason-"

Baela is cut off by Rhaena speaking again and Rhaella wants to laugh at them, they are truly siblings. They quarrel the same way Jace and Luke do over food and toys.

"We wish for you to live with us. Our grandmother will be raising us and we want to know you, as a sister, not just a story our mother tells us before bedtime." Rhaena says

Rhaella is stunned. She never imagined having a real relationship with them, let alone living with them. It is truly all she has ever dreamed of, they are the closest kin she has, besides Daemon himself of course.

"What about our father...is he going to remain here?"

Rhaella does not want to interact with him regularly. How could she accept if he was always lurking in the halls?

"Our father will not remain here. We are unsure of his next move but he has already talked to us of staying here, at Driftmark." Baela says

"He may visit at times but...I believe he will be letting our grandmother raise us most of the time." Rhaena says

Rhaella cannot tell if they are sad by this prospect. Perhaps they are not close to Daemon either. Is anyone actually close to him?

"I would have to return to Kings Landing. Most of my things are there. And my...friend, Maester Edric. I want him to live with me. He has raised me as his own." Rhaella says

"Our grandparents have already set aside a room for him. Yours is next to his." Baela smiles

"You are both very kind, as are Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys. Could you tell them I wish to think about it?" Rhaella asks

Baela and Rhaena leave with a nod of their heads, off to tell their grandparents.

"Should I continue packing, Lady Rhaella?" Her handmaid asks

"No, I will finish it myself. Thank you." Rhaella dismisses her, she has much to think about.

Aemond's face burns. Earlier, the Maester had given him milk of the poppy and rubbed strange-smelling cream where his eye once was. His awareness has dropped, he has bumped into countless things today and it was not even noon yet. They were set to return to Kings Landing today and he was going to get to fly home on Vhagar, instead of sitting next to his mother on the ship.

He hasn't seen Rhaella since the night he lost his eye, he refuesed her visits despite all that has happened. He feels guilty about how he struck her, after all her nose had bled so much. Aemond is still unsure of why he struck her. Was it the heat of the moment? Or had he truly meant it?

No. He'd never intentionally punch her, hurting his one friend in this world was not like him. He decides to write it off as an accident in his mind as his door opens.

"Mother."

"How are you feeling? Has the Measter given you milk of the poppy yet?" She asks

"I am fine." He says, deciding not to tell her how it feels

"Rhaella is going to remain here, at Driftmark." She says suddenly

"What?" He asks, stunned.

" I wanted her to return to her true home but your father would not have it. I asked Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys if they would look after her until she is of age to take Runestone and be married. They are already taking in your cousins. I believe it best that-"

"No!" Aemond shouts the chair toppled over as he quickly stands, "She is my friend. I want her to return with us to the Red Keep."

"I knew this attachment would be hard to break. I told your father that it was best to keep you separate and now look what it has done. You have only known her for a year and a half Aemond. And now, you have been maimed and will never be whole again." His mother says, her eyes fixed on his missing one.

"It was not her fault my eye is gone. She wasn't the one holding the blade!" Aemond argues, thinking back to Lucery's face as the blade cut him and how he struck her so that she was unable to get back up.

"Not her fault? Then why is it gone?" His mother stands to tower over him, "If it wasn't her fault she would have stopped Lucerys. Instead, she sat there while you were injured, permanently. "

The firmness of his mother's normally soft-spoken voice scares him, as does the firm grip she takes on his arms, slightly shaking him as she speaks again.

"She will never be on your side, on your brothers. The way she looks at Rhaenrya's bastards and Daemon, she has chosen where she belongs, even if she does not realize it yet. She will turn on you if you keep her close to your side. I am doing you a favor by removing her from your life."

Aemond shakes his head, unwilling to imagine what his mothers words are trying to create in his mind.

"Leave her here. Let the tides wash her away and your memories of her with them. One day, you will help your brother take his throne, and all will be right. She will become a problem if she remains at court with you.

Aemond looks upon his mother's face which is hardened with determination that he see what she has said to him. His face burns as he opens his mouth and turns his eye to look directly at her.

"You are wrong."

Sorry for the lack of a chapter yesterday. I went out to dinner and then completely forgot to post...oops. I will say, the cheeseburger I had was amazing.

My tumblr is acting weird as well and not letting me edit things. I'm going to fight my computer soon.

Next Part

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[littledovesnow]

fem!flickerman!reader x coriolanus snow

summary: basically if you were one of the 24 mentors in the 10th hunger games as well as lucky flickerman's younger sister and if you were dating coriolanus snow

a/n: shoutout to me not having a good title for this!!!!! wahoo!!!!!

word count: 2.8k

warnings: canon violence, the usual y’know?

---

“Coryo,” you gasped, locking lips with your boyfriend. “I need to be at Lucky’s soon for dinner. We can’t go any farther.”

Breaking the kiss apart, Coriolanus pecked your lips once more before sitting back on your bed, both of your chests heaving.

You smiled wickedly at him, leaning on your knees to look in the mirror if there were any visible marks, humming when you didn’t find any. “At least he won’t lecture me on protection and safe sex this time.”

Coriolanus choked on a laugh, grabbing his shirt from where it was discarded not long after you two got home from class. “Do you know why he’s inviting you and your parents for dinner?”

Shaking your head, you slipped on the outfit your mother had asked you to wear, watching Coriolanus in the mirror, smiling at him when he looked you up and down.

“He said something about a once-in-a-lifetime chance, I’m sure it’s something absurd like when he invited us all over to show us his parrot.”

“Oh, that was definitely an occasion for dinner.” Coriolanus joked. “You look beautiful.”

Accepting the compliment with a soft “thank you,” you lead Coriolanus out to the front of your family’s home, promising him you’d meet him in the morning before heading to Heavensbee Hall for the Reaping.

“See you tomorrow, Coryo. When we all celebrate the Plinth Prize.” You smiled, teasing him as he departed to the Corso.

---

You rolled your eyes as you heard your older brother trying to get his parrot to imitate your father, each of them nursing glasses of whiskey.

“What silly men, hopefully you’re the brains of the next generation.” You whispered, smiling when baby Caesar babbled as he watched his parents and grandparents gather around the table.

Handing the baby to an Avox, you took your seat next to your mother, acaross from your brother and his wife.

“So, what’s this news that you’ve invited us all over for, Lucretius?” Your mother asked, carefully cutting the steak that was prepared.

“I got the most wonderful invitation from President Ravinstill and Dr. Gaul the other day, regarding this year’s Hunger Games.” Your brother started, wicked smile on his face. “They want to try something new, something to attract more of an audience.”

“Wonderful news, son!” Your father clapped him on the back. The two of them loved being in front of an audience, so this was a dream come true for the younger male.

“They asked you to host? What are you going to do, follow them in the arena? Celebrate their deaths?” You asked, picking your jaw up from the floor.

It was no secret to your family that you weren’t the biggest supporter of the Hunger Games, so this news wasn’t something you thought should be celebrated.

“No, no.” Lucky frowned, hurt that you weren’t in support of him. “Well, frankly, I don’t quite know what they’re going to want me to do. I have some meetings this week with the President and Dr. Gaul, maybe Casca Highbottom if he’s sober enough to make them.”

Snorting, you raised your posca class to the latter half of Lucky’s statement, agreeing that your professor and founder of the Hunger Games tended to rely on morphling a little too much.

“Either way, we’ll be watching in support of you, Lucky.” Your sister-in-law smiled at her husband, causing you to take a rather large sip of the drink in your hand.

---

Coriolanus smiled at you as he met up with you on the front steps of the Academy, lending you his arm. “Good morning, love. How was your evening?”

You wasted no time in telling Coriolanus about your brother’s new resume-builder, keeping your voice low to avoid your classmates’ listening ears. The Capitol was a hive of gossip, and you hated every aspect of it.

“I can’t believe they chose the weatherman for the host.” Coriolanus shook his head, looking down at you. “What did you say when he told you?”

Knowing you weren’t the biggest fan of your family watching the Hunger Games each year, you sighed and plucked a glass of posca off of an Avox’s tray. “I just asked if he was expected to join the tributes in the arena, narrate their deaths and celebrate the winner.”

Coriolanus chuckled, gently guiding you to your classmates with a hand on the small of your back. “Come on, let’s see what Arachne is complaining about now.”

---

“Hey, listen you guys, I know there’s talk about it, but there’s no Plinth Prize today, not anymore.” Sejanus whispered to you and Coriolanus, guilt written all over his face.

“What?” Coriolanus asked, freezing at the news.

Before he could say anything else, everyone was ushered to Heavensbee Hall, top two dozen students taking seats in the front of the room.

Your hand was threaded through your boyfriend’s, thumb rubbing softly across Coriolanus’ hand, grounding him.

Dr. Gaul waltzed to the podium, icy eyes staring at each and every one of the students before she began her speech. Your mind drifted elsewhere after her mention of today being an “auspicious day.”

If there was no Plinth Prize, Coriolanus wouldn’t be able to afford University, wouldn’t be able to afford rent, meals, life. You had offered to lend him money for rent dozens of times, but both he and Tigris were too kind to accept it.

A gentle squeeze of your hand drew your attention back to the present, glancing at your boyfriend.

He was chewing on his bottom lip, listening intently as Dr. Gaul introduced Dean Highbottom, letting him announce the changes to this year’s Hunger Games.

Expecting it to be the announcement of your brother hosting, you felt the air leave your lungs when he mentioned a mentorship between the top 24 students and the 24 tributes. “The Plinth Prize will be awarded to the best mentor of the Games.”

“Well, surely the best mentor will be the one who’s tribute wins the Games, no?” Festus Creed asked.

“Victory will not be the only measurement we analyze for the Plinth Prize, Mr. Creed. You are to make spectacles out of your opponents, not victors.”

“What if I end up with a runt girl from one of the poor districts, like 8 or 12? They’re just going to die in two minutes like they did last year and the year before.”

Rolling your eyes at Arachne’s whine, you did have to admit that she had a point. Those with stronger tributes had a much greater chance to creating a spectacle out of of their tribute, thus a much greater chance at winning the Plinth Prize.

As the trumpets played and the screens were brought to life, you spared one look at Sejanus as you looked past your boyfriend.

Sejanus mouthed an apology when he caught your gaze, moving his legs to let Highbottom take a seat on the step in front of them.

You watched on the large screens as tributes were called district by district, cheers coming from your classmates as the first districts were announced.

Dean Highbottom looked back at you when he rattled off your name, announcing the male tribute from District 10 as the one you would mentor.

Coriolanus nodded once he heard your name, though you could see the nervous beads of sweat on his forehead, his name had yet to be called.

“Oh, you’ll like this Ms. Crane,” Highbottom teased, looking back at the girl. “District 12, the runt girl, she belongs to Coriolanus Snow.”

Your head whipped over to look at your boyfriend, his gaze locked on the screen as he watched the girl who would be his tribute get selected.

Turning your attention to the screen, you were mesmerized when the girl veered off the path to the stage and dropped something down the back of another, squinting as the cameras just barely focused on the snake as it slithered out of the dress and off screen.

“What is that dress, is she some sort of clown?”

Arachne’s judgements and comments were background noise, as you and Coriolanus were both watching the girl as she commanded the stage, voice picking up as she began to sing.

“You can kiss my ass!”

Laugher broke the silence of Heavensbee Hall, and Coriolanus looked at you with a smirk on his face.

His tribute had succeeded at one thing, she was certainly going to be a spectacle for the Games. ---

That evening, you had stopped at your home only for a moment to change into something more casual, before meeting Coriolanus at the steps to his apartment, the two of you walking up the dozen flights of stairs to the penthouse.

“When I’m president, I’m going to get that ladder fixed. Perhaps glass walls to see the landscape.”

You chuckled at your boyfriend’s comment, thanking him as he let you enter the home before him.

“What are you thinking for your tribute?” You asked, smiling at Tigris and the Grandma’am as they welcomed you to their home.

Coriolanus shrugged, depositing his school bag near the door. “I need her to sing again. You saw her, she’s malnourished, underfed.”

You bit your tongue as you subtly looked your boyfriend up and down. He wasn’t one to talk on being underfed.

“Well,” Tigris said, pulling a chair out at the table and sitting next to you, both of you watching Coriolanus pluck petals off of the rose in his hands. “I wouldn’t sing for you if I was her.”

You stayed silent as the cousins argued, Tigris pulling out on top when Coriolanus gave up retorting to her comments, pulling you back into his room instead.

“What are you planning, Coriolanus Snow?” You asked, knowing the look on his face all too well.

“I’m going to meet her at the Captiol station when they arrive in town.”

Gawking, you sat with your legs crossed and watched Coriolanus change into his night attire, frowning at his visible ribs. “You’re going to meet her?”

“I am, you can meet your tribute if you come with.”

At the suggestion of meeting your tribute Tanner, you reminded yourself, you could get an edge in knowing him and figuring out to how “make a spectacle” of him.

“Well, it would be unwise for you to go alone, power in numbers and all that, right?” You asked, smile on your face.

Coriolanus laughed as he joined you on the bed, pulling the ratty, patched-up comforter over the two of you.

---

You stuck close to your boyfriend as you two approached the train station, Coriolanus moving to stand between you and the tracks.

“What time did the sign say the train would get here?” You asked, not wanting to stick around in this part of the Captiol any longer than necessary.

Coriolanus, who was fiddling with the long-stemmed rose in his hand, looked at the increasing number of Peacekeepers at the edge of the platform. “My guess is pretty soon.”

You two waited for only a moment before you heard the train approaching, both wincing as the breaks squeaked awfully loud.

The Peacekeepers paid the two of you no mind as they opened doors to cars, the tributes hopping out once they were able.

Coriolanus nodded over to your tribute, and you squeezed his hand before departing.

He watched you introduce yourself to Tanner, the boy looking nervous but thankful that at least one person in the Captiol was being kind to him.

Focusing on his own tribute, Coriolanus smiled as he walked up to Lucy Gray. “Welcome to the Capitol.”

He handed her the rose, which had been your idea at breakfast, and the girl plucked a petal off and stuck it in her mouth, mentioning it “tasted like bedtime.”

“You look like you shouldn’t be here.” She said, gaze moving to you as you joined the two of them, wrapping your arms around one of Coriolanus’.

“Well, we shouldn’t be.” You smiled, introducing yourself.

The three of you couldn’t get too far into a conversion before Peacekeepers were shoving the rest of the tributes into the back of a truck.

“Let’s go with them.” You suggested, and Coriolanus shocked you by not putting up an argument. Perhaps the Plinth Prize lowered his inhibitions.

The two of you watched as the Peacekeepers went after one of the tributes who made a break for it at the rear of the truck, taking the opportunity to hop in along with the tributes.

Once the door closed, the two dozen tributes looked at you two like hungry animals.

“What’s wrong, in the wrong cage?”

Coriolanus pushed you behind him, replying that the cage they were in was delightful.

In the blink of an eye one of the tributes was up against the two of you, threatening to kill you.

“He’ll do it, too. Reaper killed a Peacekeeper back in 11.”

Your heart was in your throat, grip on Coriolanus’ uniform jacket tight as a vice, until Lucy Gray spoke up.

“You got family back home? You touch either of them and the Capitol will kill your family. Then you. Besides, blonde one is my mentor.”

At her comment, the tributes started arguing why Lucy Gray and Tanner got mentors.

Coriolanus explained that everyone did but was cut off when a back-up alarm started blaring.

The rear of the truck you were all in started dipping, and Coriolanus wrapped an arm around you and gripped on the edge of the truck, though it didn’t work too well.

Everyone tumbled out of the truck, a yelp coming out of your mouth when your knee collided with a large rock in the enclosure.

“You okay?” Coriolanus asked, dusting himself off as he stood up, worried gaze on you.

Nodding, you stood up, favoring your left knee. “Ow, maybe not 100% fine.”

Coriolanus wrapped an arm around you, taking most of your weight, and Lucy Gray frowned when she walked over to you two.

“Are y’all okay?” She asked, though her gaze was looking elsewhere.

You followed her gaze, face dropping when you saw your brother’s back turned to you, speaking into the cameras. “-in the gem of Panem? That’s an Academy rouge, no?”

Coriolanus looked down at you, knowing what was going on in your mind. “Lucy Gray,” he turned to the brunette, “would you like to meet our neighbors?”

Lucky persisted to get your attention, though when he realized who was in the zoo’s enclosure, his on-air persona faltered. “Wh-what are you two doing in there?”

You grunted as Coriolanus helped you to the edge of the enclosure, both of you introducing Lucy Gray. “Tanner, my tribute, he’s back helping his district-mate.”

“Are you okay?” Lucky asked, not listening while Lucy Gray talked to a young girl about her dress.

“I’ll be fine, Lucky. Meet Lucy Gray.”

Lucky, ever the showman, interviewed Lucy Gray, though you could see him watching you out of the corner of his eye, seeing you still leaning on your boyfriend.

Coriolanus, when asked if you two were told to hop in the enclosure, mentioned that if Lucy Gray was brave enough, you two were, as well.

“For the record, I didn’t have a choice.” Lucy Gray quipped, smile on her face.

Lucky saw the Peacekeepers approaching, nodding towards them. “Well, for the record, I think you two are about to be escorted out.”

You looked back to see the armed men approaching, eyes widening.

“Be careful with her!” Coriolanus commanded as you two were separated, the Peacekeepers not noticing your injured knee.

---

Due to your injury, you were permitted to miss the rest of the day at the Academy, with strict instructions to keep off of your leg for a couple weeks.

Coriolanus had gracefully brought your schoolwork, sitting next to you on the couch to discuss strategies for the Hunger Games.

“What in the gem of Panem was that circus act earlier?” Lucky asked, storming into his former home.

You and Coriolanus shared a look, having the same thought.

“Lucky, dear brother, they told us to make spectacles of the tributes. What better spectacle than us joining them?” You asked. “Nothing bad happened.”

Lucky looked at your face, down at your knee, and then back up. “Nothing bad?”

“Pfft, this is nothing, Lucretius. I’ll be fine in a week or so.” You waved off his worries, knowing between Coriolanus and your parents, you would heal perfectly fine.

“Now sit, tell us all about your plans to make the Hunger Games’ first host memorable.”

Lucky dropped into the seat across from the two of you, weaving tales about his plans to bring Jubilee to the Games, even though Highbottom despised the bird.

---

a/n: yuh i loved this i like writing w the reader being lucky's sister maybe perhaps a part 2 in the future!!!

[charliesangel67]

Against all odds

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Word count- 1567

Warnings: Smutttt, a little bit of fluff, acedemic rivals (kind of, idk how to write it)

Authors note: I'm actually so sorry this took so long, idek why but it was a bit hard to write. Anyway, it's here and I hope you enjoy.

This was based of off @weirdowithnobeardo 's idea which is the first comment on this post

“Ok, can somebody tell me the answer to question b?” Quickly, hands flew up in the air. “Mr Cameron, what is the answer?” “4x+7n=33y” Rafe said confidently. “”That’s wrong.” I announced. “Go on, what’s your theory Miss y/n?” My teacher said, “It’s 4x+7n=36y because x is equal to 2.” I stated. “That is correct y/n, well done.” My teacher smiled at me. I smiled in Rafe’s direction but he just glared at me. Next period science, we got our tests back, “So Cameron, what did you get?” I asked Rafe curiously. “94%, you?” “99%” I replied with a smile. Again, he seemed so angry at me for getting a higher score. This went on for the next couple of weeks, He acted like we were academic rivals.

3 weeks later

There it was, the test sitting on my desk, a bright red ‘A+’ written in the top right corner. I was proud of myself for scoring so high on such a hard test. It was 40% of my final GPA result so I had to score high. I turned around to see Rafe staring daggers at me. “Bad result Cameron?” I asked him teasingly. “Shut up y/l/n” He growled as he clenched his jaw. I giggled to myself and turned my attention back to the teacher. 

The bell rang for the end of the day and I hurriedly grabbed my backpack and ran to my locker. My friend Maddy always meets me at my locker because we’re in different year levels, Maddy’s in 10th and I’m in 11th grade. “So, how was your day Mads?” I asked unlocking my locker. “Shit. So fucking shit you have no idea.” “I’m sure it couldn't have been that bad.” I laughed. “No, y/n it was bad. So bad in fact that I got broken up with by Jason the son of a bitch in front of half the cafeteria.” She announced. “Oh shit, sorry babe, he was no good for you anyway.” I said walking away with her. 

As we were walking to my car, Maddy realised she had forgotten something in her locker so she ran back towards the buildings. Suddenly, I felt a rough hand grab hold of my upper arm and pin me against a wall. A hand covered my mouth to stop me from screaming. “Oh you son of a bitch. You’re so fucking done little girl.” I knew the voice sounded familiar but I couldn’t quite figure out who it was. When my eyes finally adjusted to the light and situation, I realised it was Jason and his group of friends. 

“So, did you and Maddy talk shit about me to the school after what I did to her?” He asked again, still keeping me against the wall. “What the fuck. No we didn’t, why would you think that?” I was astonished at the accusation. “Because, now the whole school thinks that I have an STD and all the girls I’ve slept with have smashed my locker and put slime in the gas tank of my car.” He complained. “Wow, creative girls for real.” I said with a little laugh. “Ok, if it wasn’t you, then who was it?” 

“It was me, you son of a bitch!” Yelled Rafe, walking towards us. “Why?! Why the fuck would you do that?” Jason asked, close to tears. Rafe pulls a phone out of his pocket and starts reading some texts - 

“‘C’mon Maddy, It won’t be that bad. Why don’t you wanna sleep with me?”

“Because I’m not ready for that Jason, I’ve told you a million times. We have only been together a month and I’m not ready to have sex yet. Just stop asking me already.”

“Fine. Go fuck some other dude, you fucking slut. You’ll regret not being with me.” “What do you mean Jason? Are you breaking up with me??”” 

“Hey! Where did you get my phone from you bitch?!” Jason asked launching himself at Rafe, who dodged the blow perfectly. “You left her on delivered for 9 hours just so you could slut shame her and break up with her in the cafeteria in front of everyone, all because she didn’t want to sleep with you?!  Not to mention you cheated on her the entire relationship. You’re a real ass man.” Rafe said. “I suggest you leave Maddy, Y/n and all the other girls you’ve messed with, alone and get on with your life.” Rafe yelled as Jason and his friends ran away.

They knew how powerful Rafe could be and they didn’t want to get on his bad side. “Thanks Rafe. Why did you do that anyway?” I asked, “Don’t think I did it for you, I hate Jason.” “Oh, okay.” I replied sheepishly before walking away, back to my car and to meet with Maddy. The drive home was silent after I told Maddy all about what happened. Her being in disbelief about what Rafe had done to Jason. 

A couple weeks later, it was Midsummers, I had bought a nice dress and had a plan laid out on how we were going to spend the evening with Maddy and her sister, Kiara. Kiara picked us up and we drove to the Cameron’s mansion as that was where the party was. Kiara was friends with Sarah, Rafes younger sister.

A couple hours into the party,  Rafe approached me, taking my hand and dragging me upstairs. “Rafe, what are you doing?” I whispered, “Taking you to my room.” “Why?” I asked, a little scared. “Because you look way too beautiful in that dress and I noticed JJ basically eye fucking you.” He turned to face me, looking very sexy in his button down shirt and his hair falling into his eyes. Without thinking I put my hand out to brush his hair away from his face, he grabbed my neck and leaned down to kiss me. 

“No, Rafe, we can’t do this.” I said as I pulled away. “Why not y/n?” “Because, I’m a pogue, you're a kook and you should hate me. In fact, you did act like you hated me after you stood up for me in front of Jason, and now suddenly you’re acting all jealous when JJ looks at me?” I asked in a confronting manner. “Look, y/n, I like you.” “No, we can’t Rafe. Your dad is gonna kill you and my parents are gonna fucking disown me or something if they found out I was dating a kook, especially Mr Rafe Cameron with his bad reputation.” 

Rafe didn’t say another word, he just leaned down again to kiss me, This time it was more passionate. At that moment, I didn’t even care that we shouldn’t be doing this, I just kissed him back. Rafe picked me up and carried me to his room. He threw me on the bed and locked the door. He crawled on top of me and placed feather light kisses along my neck to my cleavage. “Can I?” he asked as his fingers were tangled in the strap off my dress. “Mmmh,” I responded softly as he carefully took off my dress. 

I tugged at his belt, hinting for him to take off his pants as I unbuttoned his shirt. Within minutes, we were both butt naked, he took my boobs in his hands, massaging them and kissing along them. I moaned at the pleasure. I palmed his cock through his boxers and I felt him getting hard underneath my hand. Quickly, Rafe ripped off his boxers and rubbed his cock against my entrance. Already slick and wet, he pushed inside. I moaned as he did so, Rafe thrusted slowly and sensually.

“Mmh, You like that baby?” He asked, staring into my eyes. “So much Rafe.” I replied. Rolling my eyes back as Rafe thrusted harder into my soaking cunt and he kissed along my breasts. Soon, I was nearing my release, my cunt tightening around him. And a couple thrusts later I had come undone onto his thick cock. “Fuck baby, I'm gonna come.” “Come in me Rafe.” I begged him and seconds later he squirted his hot cum into my pussy. Out of breath and panting, I crawled on top of him, lying on his chest, my hands tangled in his hair as he kissed my neck. “Promise we can keep this a secret for a little while longer until I tell my parents?” I asked him. Rafe nodded and uttered a soft ‘yes’. I kissed him one more time before getting up and getting dressed. 

“I’m gonna head back down stairs okay? The girls are gonna be worried about where I was.” I told him, opening the door. “One more kiss babe.” Rafe said and when I turned around, seeing his abs again stirred something deep within me. Want. I wanted this man. His hair, his face, his body, his personality towards me. I wanted everything about him. I didn’t think, I just jumped back onto the bed into his arms. Rafe kissed me hard and passionate and I melted into his touch. Soon we were back at it again, he was thrusting slowly and sensually into my soaked cunt as I buried my face in his shoulder quieting my moans.

That night was the best sex I ever had. 

I also got a super protective boyfriend.

I hope you guys liked this 😁

[starstruckodysseys]

the thing about fhjy ending is that like. the promo dropped september 26th. it was like my fourth week of high school and second week of college. i still vividly remember freaking out about it in my high school library at 8am but trying to be cool in the process.

the proper trailer came out december 13th. luckily i was at home this time, but i remember shrieking and flailing and giggling like the biggest loser imaginable, because i was so goddamn excited. thank god i was home alone.

the first episode came out january 10th. i watched it about half an hour after it dropped, because i was at bowling practice when it actually did, and between coming home and getting dinner, i was a little late. i watched with the biggest grin on my face and live blogged the entire thing.

and now it’s may 22nd, and i just finished watching the finale. i loved it, obviously. i went on a roller coaster of emotions that surprisingly didn’t end with me fully sobbing, though it got pretty damn close. i laughed and i teared up and i cheered and i kept that same goofy little smile on my face most of the time.

i graduate in two weeks. this show has been with me for basically my entire senior year - through my entire bowling season, the musical i state managed and the play i helped create, every college application and subsequent admission, my actual college selection, every single dumb little thing you have to do when you’re a high school senior. in a way, i can’t separate fantasy high junior year from my own real life senior year.

it sounds cheesy, i know, but this season has really meant a lot to me. it’s strange now that it’s ending. i don’t really know what to do, now. focus on whatever never stop blowing up is, i guess.

i still love the bad kids forever, by the way. even if we aren’t going to see them in action for the next god knows how many years. they’re very dear to my heart. that isn’t changing any time soon.

[stariikis]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 006

synopsis ; based on the Chinese Drama, 'When I Fly Towards You', in which you, a going-on-high-school English genius named Huang Yuting meets the Mathematics genius of the 10th grade, Nishimura Riki, underneath the rain.

Perhaps you should never have brought up the idea of studying with Riki, because now even your two respective teachers are in on the idea. Your Maths teacher nods earnestly, eyes shining at the idea of the top Maths student working with… the not so top Maths student. 

“And you could help him with English!” She claps as if she’s invented the cure to cancer. When Riki glances at her in half-confusion, looking slightly guilty afterwards, she explains, “She scored the top mark for the entrance examinations.” 

Once again, the look of shame that crosses Riki’s face for being incredibly bewildered by the fact that it’s you she’s talking about. It amuses you to no end. No way Riki is this surprised that you can be smart at something. 

You shuffle your papers together uncomfortably and nod. “Sure, maybe we could study together sometime.” Although you try your best to keep your voice nonchalant, and even though you don’t even really want to spend your afternoons with this sorta good-looking boy, you suppress a smile. 

There’s a drawn out silence in the staff room for a few moments, before you and Riki simultaneously bow and scurry out of there as fast as you can. 

“Wow, I thought 老师 would surely beat my ass,” you mutter jokingly, glancing over as you speed-walk next to Riki. “She only didn’t because you were there, I think.” 

“Lao shi?” Riki repeats in a funny Japanese accent, awkwardly enunciating the foreign words. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and purse your lips. “Sorry. Teacher. Sensei.” 

“Ah.” 

And what are you supposed to say to that? As soon as you see your classroom after rounding the sharp corner, you disappear into it without even saying goodbye to Riki. It’s not as if he cares though, as he peeks in through the windows and coolly nods to himself. 

The cool evening breeze that ruffles your school skirt is your only source of rejuvenation for the day. You exhale heavily, smoothing your skirt back to how it was. It’s been a long day of remedial after remedial, and it’s only your first year in this school. As someone who despises studying, your heart aches agonisingly just thinking about what your final year will be like. 

Your shoulders already cry out day by day the heavier your bag gets, and the pile of textbooks and worksheets you arm-carry home increases in height by the week. Too bad you already have a worsening case of scoliosis. 

“Excuse me.” 

To your astonishment, Riki’s sling bag brushes past you and he sits right beside you at the bus stop. Undoubtedly, a strong wave of deja vu hits you, and you can’t help but think of rain streaming down your cheeks, soaking your shoes and clothes through, and Riki offering you an umbrella. His infamous black umbrella. 

You have to hold yourself back from continuing to stare at him with your mouth agape. However, with both ears covered with a silver pair of Sony headphones, Riki doesn’t seem to realise it’s you beside him. His eyes are closed in deep concentration, head bopping to the beat of whatever he’s playing. 

However, it’s not this shameless, cheerful display that shocks you the most. As you watch in silence, he begins to mark the moves of a dance choreography. Since when could he dance? And since when was he unbelievably talented at it? He’s only doing slight markings, but from the incredible isolations and bodily control he has, you’re more impressed than when you found out it was possible to score full marks for a Maths exam. 

A soft smile graces his cheeks, as if dancing has been the only thing keeping him alive, as if dancing was his first love. Judging by how relaxed he seems, you conclude that that’s probably the truth. 

“Riki!” In your excitement, you foolishly decide to alert him of your presence, tapping his arm three times fast. “You didn’t tell me you could dance!” 

His eyes jolt open and he blinks rapidly at you, hands stopping in place. He tugs his headphones down to rest on his shoulders. Weirdly, his face falls back into an expressionless state. As if you being around him has dampened his whole spirit. 

“You didn’t ask,” he mutters. Cautiously, he pulls his backpack close to his chest. 

At this point, why do you even bother with him? 

You scowl. “You could at least look a little happy to see me here. Weirdo,” you add under your breath, not expecting that Riki would actually hear you and whip his head around to glare at you. 

The once comfortable atmosphere has turned into a prickly feeling on your skin. 

“I didn’t know you took this bus home..” you say tentatively, the words souring on your tongue. You’re not even sure why you feel the need to strike up a conversation with this incredibly anti-social boy. “What stop are you getting off at?” 

“How?” 

“Huh?” You cock your head. 

“How is that any of your business?” 

Of course. 

Just as you’re about to clap back with a sharp piece of your mind, Riki shakes his head and stands up abruptly. The bus has arrived, blinding headlights a visual representation of how you’re feeling right now. Riki’s presence dampening your mood like you’ve just been run over by that same bus. 

The boy doesn’t spare you a glance before boarding the bus home. Clutching your books close to your chest, you follow him stiffly up the bus. It’s just your luck that this bus is the last one home. Otherwise, you would stay and wait an eternity for the next bus if you have to. 

Riki has already adjusted his headphones back to their previous state, his eyes fixated peculiarly on the streetlamps coming to life with their usual soft glow. It’s almost amusing, all the effort he’s putting in, in refusal to make eye contact with you. 

You take a seat in the back, as far away as you possibly can from him. 

It’s been a long day, your muscles are sore from sitting for around eight hours straight, and you’ve been struggling to keep awake for the longest time. You’re so tired you contemplate whether you’re going to have the energy to shower later. But you haven’t even eaten dinner… 

With a sigh of resignation, you shove these thoughts out of your mind and lean your head against the window. A soothing darkness consumes you as you fall into a well-needed nap. 

The bus rumbles on towards your final destination, and you catch up on sleep to fix your terribly broken schedule. You’re not conscious to notice Riki sneaking admiration-filled gazes at you from in front. You’re not awake to witness him rising out of his seat and coming to sit next to you and keep you company until the very last bus stop. Because you don’t know all this is happening, you’re utterly confused when you jolt awake after someone taps your shoulder. 

You glance to your side, seeing nobody. 

Riki is nowhere to be found, either. 

You scramble to your feet upon noticing you’ve, coincidentally, woken up just as the bus is reaching your stop. It feels almost surreal, like you have your very own guardian angel guiding you home. The thought is so silly it makes you smile to yourself from the absurdity. 

Guardian angel or not, you’re so glad to finally be home, and that you won’t be bothered by him anymore. 

taglist (open)

@laylasmother @seunnimg @natalunae @roumajuli @tomomorin

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[heizuhaevents]

HeiZuha-Week 2024

August 5th until August 11th!

Welcome to this year’s HeiZuha-Week, where we want to come together and create one or more special pieces about our favorite (to-be) couple!

You like the couple Kazuha and Heiji? Then you're at the right place!

As every year, the HeiZuha-Week will again include the Hattori-Day (August 10th)!

Around that time, our beloved Osakan Couple will return with a new case in the Japanese Manga-Series, so I decided on the theme

Reunion / Return

To give you some prompts, here’s the daily list!

Case Closure: Heiji returns to Osaka, after successfully solving a case in another city. Kazuha, who was worried during his abscence, waits for him. Ideas: dangerous case, lost case, dispute, argument, long-distance relationship

School Commitments: Because of commitments at school, Kazuha and Heiji haven’t had much time with each other. Finally, all commitments are over and they find a quiet moment. Ideas: school festival, tournaments, exams

Lost: Kazuha and/or Heiji get lost on a trip. After hours of searching, they find each other again. Ideas: Woods/Forest, dangerous case, big city, crowded place, snowstorm, school trip

Dangerous Situation: Kazuha/Heiji gets kidnapped/trapped in a dangerous situation (can be also funny dangerous, like accidentally trapped in the girl's changing room?) and the other has to come to the rescue! Will they be there in time? Ideas: kidnapping, accident, crash, trapped, captious situation

Old Friends: Years have passed and still no couple – even worse! They have lost sight of each other over the years (or maybe have fallen out?) ! Are they worried, the other half might have found a love? Ideas: Study abroad, working abroad, new old love, undercover mission, unsent letters, old memories, long-distance relationship

Another Life: In another life they find/found each other again. Will they recognize each other? Will things be different? Ideas: Isekai, Afterlife, Reincarnation, Past Lifes, Alternate Universes, timetravel/changing past

Returning Memories: May it be because of years passed or lost memory.. They remember old times and relive old feelings. What might their older self think about themselves? Ideas: Photos, lost memory, nostalgia

You can stick to the daily prompts or do an overall work for the whole week by using just the theme or combine different prompts as you like 🙂

It’s free for your interpretation but you can send an ask if you need some inspirational hints (^_^)

I hope for a lot of enjoyable creations!

More Info below the cut!

Some Guidelines

Use tag #HeiZuhaWeek2024 and/or #HeiZuhaWeek and tag this blog by using @heizuhaevents so I can find your entry(s)!

Post your work to the Ao3-Collection (if uploaded to Ao3)

You don't need to participate daily, just choose the topics you like or only use the overall theme to create a piece!

You're free to choose what you want to create! All kind of fanwork is appreciated, open to all creators of all skills! (^_^)

Follow this blog to not miss any of the creations or infos and updates on the event!

Spread the Word! (e.g. by reblogging this post) So we can gather a lot of participants to make this event a great experience! (^o^)/)

Have fun!

I'll reblog on this blog all creations. (^_~) Also after the event week.

(I'll reblog this announcement over the next weeks again as a reminder, but wanted to give enough time for everyone who's short on it!)

[callme-littlesunshine]

Roses for you

I got inspired by the picture where Sodo hast he roses in his hands. So I thought, why not making something cute out of it.

Sodo x reader

 

The last time I saw him was when he was leaving fort he Tour. I missed him, I mean he called,

always when the time was there. Even when the time was different between us. We always found time to talk. I missed him dearly. He never showed it but I saw it in his eyes, or heard it in his voice. He also missed me.

We were together for a long time now, almost two years, the time I arrived at the Ministry. Sister

Imperotor was not fond o f it form e to join, i don’t know why but she didn’t allow it. It was fine the first few weeks but when time passed, it was harder form e to fall alseep. I slept in his room so I could predent he was here, it worked for

a few nights but after that it was harder than before.

I want him back here, here with me. I missed his warmth, his fell of wood and cinamon. Right

now I was talking to Alpha, he was always here form me, when I needed someone to talk when Sodo was not here  Alpha was a former Ghost Member, Alpha knew Sodo so it was easy to talkt o someone.

„You know, Sodo has changed aound you, you know that?“ I looked at him after hearing those

words. „He did? He is always this way when he is with me“ I smiled playing with my hair. „I never knew he could be gentle“ grinned the former lead guitarist. Everybody warned me about the little gremlin named Sodo but I wanted to see it myself. I never judged him, I wanted to get to know him. Well from get to know him, our

love for each other was born. I was glad that I was not listening tot he others.

„I really miss him Alpha I hope he returns soon“ I sighed while sitting back, my back leaning against the wall in front oft he Church. Since a few weeks, I was waiting in front, hoping Sodo will arrive sooner or later. I knew he would call me when they left their last concert but I wanted to wait in front when he forgot. I knew how stressful this can be. Alpha told me so much about it. Sometimes Alpha joined me, bringing Omega and Mist with him. I like them, even Terzo joined one time, he was flirting with me. But I knew he was kinda scared of Sodo, so he

would do it when he is not around. Sodo almost chopped of his head for flirting with me in front of him. It was kinda funny but I felt guilty for it. It wasn’t even my fault but well, he never did it in front of him. Sometimes he tried to

flirt with me but I never paid attention to it.

A few days later I was in front again, this time alone with my thoughts. Today was Friday,

Wednesday was the last time Sodo and I was talking. I missed his voice. Did something happen to him? Is he returning? I hope he is okay. I grabbed my phone, writing him fort he 10th time today, hoping he would answer me. I leaned

my head back, closing my eyes. The sun was hot on my skin but I didn’t care. I felt tired, I slept horrible I would sleep everywhere.

I wasn’t aware oft he fact that I was sleeping. Half an hour later, I heard I heard an engine,

opening my eyes only fort he sun to blend my vision. I raised my hand in front of my eyes to turn out the sun. Thats when I saw the tour bus. Tour bus..? Ghost… Sodo! He was coming back. I jumped up to stand only to almos fall but steading myself before crashing.

When the bus came to an stop, the door opened and everyone came out. Coming up to me, to greet me with hugs. I missed them. They left quickly but one person was missing. My

little fire ghoul. Where is he?... I felt my heart sink at the thought that he wasn’t with them. I was ready to leave my spot with a broken heart, but then I heard his voice. „My beloved where are you going?“ I turned around, only to see Sodo with rosed in his hands, smiling. My heart melted away at this sight. He is here. „You’re back“ While whispering this words I made my way to him hugging him tight. Letting my tears fall. I missed him so much and finally he is back by my side. Next time I will join him, I don’t care what Sister Imperator is telling us, I want tob e near him, I need him and he needs me. „I’ve something for you darling“ After he let go of me, he gave me the roses in his hands. „Sorry

for not calling or answering, I wanted to surprise you, I hope it worked.“ He smiled. Looking at the roses I nodded, eyes filled with love after looking up. „It definitely did“ it was. I never felt so much love like right now. He never brought me roses. This means more than everything else to me. It says so much.

„Thank you my fire ghoul“ with that I got on my tip toes, kissing his lips without a care in

the world. He is finally back now.

[levikra]

I have Acute Lymphoblastic Leukosis aka Blood Cancer

buckle up :D

This post should've been here for sometime now cuz I prefer keeping everyone updated across all the platforms that I use as an artist.

So - Hi! My name is Evein, on 1st of May 2023 I turned 21 and since then, from 5th of May my health decided to pull a quick one on me, propelling the events that currently make me reside at the hospital with an oncology.

It all started with a tonsillitis-like fever, accompanied by furunclosis in three places on my body, a high fever that lasted for 5 days in the first half of May itself and other unpleasant symptoms. It felt weird, I've never had such an intense streak of sicknesses kick my ass like that, but of course - I went to doctors to get checked, the classic blood testings and general examinations and stuff.

That's when on 10th of May my blood test was checked by a dermatologist regarding my furuncle problem and - after some brief moments of her talking with the main doctor at the clinic - I was rushed to the governmential hospital due to the fact that my blood results had... no white blood cells. Literally 1.83 at the accepted range being much higher than that.

Needless to say I was fucking shocked, I've never dealt with the severity of the situation and let alone while being completely on my own as a human person (working, living, providing for myself, you call it).

At the hospital, after several examinations and another blood test came the recommendation paper that doctors signed with urgency, first and foremost I needed to get to an appointment at the hematologist's. That I did on 14th of May and since that point of time, till 19th, I'd been monitored, given antibiotics for my tonsillitis-like symptoms, along with my furunclosis and after 19th we ruled out the condition to be leukosis, became my white blood cells started coming back to normal with the antibiotics aiding my immunity, but despite that - thr condition still seemed as something more reminiscent of mononucleosis (which, however, in another blood test was disproven).

After exactly a week of feeling better, albeit dealing with leftover anemia, I started developing the same symptoms back and even worse, to the point of losing consciousness and thrwoing up in an elevator on 29th of May after going out for the second pack of antibiotics my hematologist had then already approved of to use to help out.

That's when I was rushed to the hospital again and - the next day - my hematologist arranged an appointment at the big clinic that has an oncology ward specifically for my situation. On 1st of June I was officially admitted with Acute Leukosis (the diagnosis doc attached is in Russian).

Since 1st of June the treatment has been ongoing, I've received three rounds of chemo along with supporting hormonal abd antibiotic therapy. Me is balding too, ofc. :D

And thus, this story leads to a logical question - what's now?

It's day 24 of my treatment, out of 4-6 weeks of inital induction period of leukosis' treatment (the overall chemotherapy to destroy tumor cells down to <5% in my bone marrow). After the induction period, if it's proven to lead to remissions - I'm then admitted out to certain periods of time in between infusions + need to take supporting medicine by myself (hence buying it too).

As an independent freelance artist who's existence is tied to being able to do creative work out of, well, any circumstances, I was sadly forced into situation of asking for monetary support, simply because it's stupid to expect to break your own back trying to work harder when you're body is collapsing on itself.

I have a goal on Boosty open for donations and I deeply appreciate ANY and I mean ANY traction of this post. I made a similar thread on Twitter covering the situation and have recieved a lotnof incredible support that has helped me a LOT so far, but my treatment is ongoing, or to be precise - will last in its entirety for 2-3 years. With the momentary help I was able to secure my living situation and get my pet cat to live for the current time period at my friend's, but you understand how that is just a temporary measure and, of course, I don't plan on stall myself - I simply just can't afford that even while hospitalised.

BOOSTY is very sus when it comes to singular donations higher than 120$ but if you happen to donate below that or in several different ones to bypass their antifraud system (only if you wish to) - the link to a goal is here -

[monacos-darling]

ive been thinking about hanahaki rosquez and ong marc getting that surgery its giving the abo abort that baby discourse like bitchhhh he ain't gonna suffer thru allat unless the surgery has a MASSIVE recovery time and also a MASSIVE cost personally. and even then it'll only be a seasonnnnnnn (which he wins! half a lung and a dream and still lapping 2 tenths in front of the entire gird my goat) and is that enough for them? like even if the flowers were in valeeee (eye do think. he is delulu enough that it wouldn't happen. also its about the person believing the other does not have feelings for the them marc is tooooo obvious for that like bitch is staring at vale w fuck me eyes after a single HINT is dropped about vale taking him back he's literally looking at vale every week like pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease. but what IF!) IS HE GOING TO CONTACT MARC? like he's is nottttt contacting the devil pleaseeee he's is getting Off that bike and Getting That Surgery. like pregnancy au he is trying to convince everyone he's virgin mary he is joking to everyone this is due to his feelings for his unfulfilled 10th championship he is deluding himself into believing its NOT for marc. but if they decide to keep it they are NOT telling each other vale is finding marc fainted in a bathroom toilet with petals scattered around him aesthetically and there's a whole blood stained flower next to his mouth laying on the marble slated floors like a painting at the yearly gala (alex is. indisposed for unclear fanfiction plot reason. don't ask) marc is finding out through gossip sites he is committing corporate espionage he is bribing the yamaha doctors to find out whats happening and why vale is so sick. reconciliation is not happening without a major MAJOR intervention and honestly aus are such a fun way to imagine what could have been.......

ALSO! i love imagining rosquez in situations bc they are both so fucked up no one have even a close to normal reaction about itttttttt. i DOOOO think however that if the surgery makes the person lose feelings FOREVER it might be different..... marc who loves SO deeply and SO hard and is (in my head) a romantic at heart never being able to feel again...... vale. who makes decisions from his hearttttt (ducati. just to name one) losing all feelings FOREVER! well i don't think any of them would take it. but then again would ANY sane person take it .? also I've never been able to figure it out like do the flowers just never stop growing once theyve appeared? would therapy help.... what even happens when they find out the feelings are reciprocated ? flowers just magically disappear? like PERSONALLY i think having a recovery period where the flowers roots (symbolising the DISTRUST the BELIEF that the s/o doesn't have feelings for them) detach themselves from the lungs thru constant repetition of their loveeeee (whump!!!!!! hurt comfort!!!!!! #putmenthroughkidnappingsagain2024) and they have to cough up their remaining flowers in order to start healinggggg is SO fun. i love pain :)

all this to say i think more people on here should start writing hanahaki aus there's one fic on ao3 that FUCKS but also hasn't been updated since 2018.... ao3 user zjemciciastko if ur still on here and still alive dm me.... i love u...

[voylitscope]

CA: TWS 10th Anniversary Ficlets (Day 8)

Daily ficlets for the CA: TWS 10th Anniversary Event @catws-anniversary. With Huge thanks to @sparkagrace and @cable-knit-sweater for running this wonderful event! 💞

Eight | April 2nd | Theme: Bucky Barnes | Prompt: Ghost story | Words: 1,000 | Canon Divergence | Gen | No Warnings | Steve/Bucky, Post-TWS, dancing, Bucky Barnes recovering

Steve thinks his new apartment is haunted. He hasn’t told anyone else anyone about it.

He guesses he maybe should.

But he’s got a whole list of reasons not to. The list starts with how he’s not completely sure he’s just imagining it all —that most of it hasn’t been dreams. It ends with the way he’s afraid that if he’s right —

If he’s right, well, then, he’s afraid talking about it might make it stop. And the last thing Steve wants to do is scare away the occasional presence in his apartment.

It’s too scarce as it is. It’d been barely perceptible at first. Objects in places that weren’t quite right. A shadow there and gone before Steve could blink. The feeling of being watched — so real it made Steve’s skin flush, but without a source he could find when he turned around.

A little more solid, sometimes, in more recent weeks. The sound of his own name in late hours, but with no response when Steve’d tried to answer. A bottle of water and some pills on his nightstand the morning after he’d returned from a mission that’d had left him bruised and exhausted.

(The pain and injuries were gone by the time Steve woke up, but he’d said a thank you out loud before taking a sip of water, anyway.)

Steve’s even gotten a couple full glimpses. A single second of a flash of movement from a figure that hadn’t stopped when Steve called to it. A half second of the most familiar eyes in the world locked on Steve’s but then disappearing before Steve could recover from the shock of it.

All of those moments could have been dreams — could have been entirely in Steve’s head.

He doesn’t know what do, even if they’re not.

(He doesn’t know how to figure out what his ghost wants.)

Until, on Steve’s birthday, his haunting turns into a full-fledged ghost story.

(Unless it’s a dream.)

It’s late, and he’s been home for a while. It’s late enough that it’s probably nearly the 5th now, and Steve’s been meaning to stop drawing, get out of the chair in his living room, and head to bed for at least an hour.

It’s soft musics that finally make him put down his pencil. The song is playing at a low enough volume that, for a second, Steve thinks the sound is coming from the street or a neighbor —

But then he recognizes it. Steve hasn’t heard this song in about 70 years..

Steve’s heart is pounding as tries to run his eyes over every inch of his apartment. .

“Bucky?” His voice comes out in a whisper.

He’s never gotten an answer. There’ve been no conversations during this haunting.

Until now.

“Made you a promise,” Bucky’s voice says. Steve still can’t see him. “Didn’t I?”

“A promise?” Steve echoes, standing up.

Bucky emerges from shadows in Steve’s hall that shouldn’t have been large or dark enough to hide him. He’s wearing a button down shirt and jeans. His hair his pulled back at his neck. He’s somehow looking right at Steve without really meeting his eyes. He looks calm. He looks terrified and skittish. He smiles at Steve and it’s unsure and hesitant and heartbreaking and beautiful.

And Steve feels like he can’t breath.

“Think I told you that if we both made it to your next birthday we’d have to dance. I figured this counted,” Bucky says. Then he frowns and pulls his eyes away. He looks like he might fold right back into the shadows. “Maybe I didn’t.”

“You did,” Steve says. He nods, and he waits for Bucky to look back at his face. Then Steve holds out his hand.

For a few seconds, Steve’s certain that Bucky’s about to disappear or that he’s about to wake up.

But Bucky nods, too, and he puts his flesh hand into Steve’s before taking a few steps toward him. It brings them close together — close enough to dance.

Steve moves slowly. He’s still so sure he’s about to ruin this somehow.

But Bucky stays when Steve wraps an arm around his waist. And Bucky’s arms end up around Steve’s neck. And they both take small, tentative steps that bring them even nearer to each other.

And they together dance to a song Steve hasn’t heard since 1945.

And he can hear Bucky breathing and the beating of Bucky’s heart.

Steve wants to pull Bucky in closer and beg him to stay. He wants to ask him if this real. He wants Bucky to assure him this isn’t a dream or a ghost story at all.

He wants to ask Bucky if he’s okay — where’s been, where he stays, where he goes, what else he remembers — Steve wants to ask him a thousand things.

He wants to kiss him.

Steve’s almost sure that doing any one of those things would ruin this moment — could maybe make Bucky stay away for a long, long time.

So he simply feels the heat of Bucky’s body, and Bucky’s hands on him, and Bucky in his arms, and he dances.

And when he music stops, he says,

“Buck —" and he’s not surprised when Bucky shakes his head.

But he is surprised when he gets one final response.

“Happy birthday, Steve.” Bucky says, hands gone from Steve before Steve can blink, back across the floor and halfway into those shadows before Steve’s taken a couple breathes.

“Thanks for the dance,” Steve calls. He doesn’t get a reply to that, but he hopes Bucky heard it.

He hopes next time, if there is a next time, will be soon. Steve hopes the haunting of his apartment keeps on increasing.

(He hopes he’s not asleep on that chair in his living room right now.)

He’s still not planning to tell anyone about this. Not yet, anyway. Steve wants to keep this one to himself for a while.

(They’d always planned on that birthday dance being a secret, anyway.)

🎆 Seven | April 1st | Theme: HYDRA | Prompt: Project Insight | Words: 300 | Canon compliant | Not rated | No warnings | Bucky POV, implied Steve/Bucky (in a similar way to, you know, the literal plot of CA: TWS.)

🎆Six | March 31st | Theme: Sam Wilson | Prompt: Partners/Missing Scenes | Words: 350 | Canon compliant | Not Rated | No Warnings | Gen, Sam and Steve friendship, a tiny teaspoon of Sam and Riley emotions that you can interpret however your heart desires.

🎆Five | March 30th | Theme: TWS Cast | Prompt: Stunts | Words: 350 | Mature | No Warnings | RPF, Chris Evan/Sebastian Stan, very light/implied sexual content (but throwing this one under a cut just in case), sexual thoughts/tension, intentionally unspecified POV

🎆Four | March 29th | Theme: Natasha Romanoff | Prompt: Trust Issues | Words: 350 | Canon compliant| Not Rated | No Warnings | Gen, Natasha and Steve friendship

🎆Three | March 28th | Theme: SHIELD | Prompt: Surprise Visitor | Words: 300 | Canon compliant | Not Rated | No Warnings | But: very brief Steve/OC (sort of), and, I guess, privacy invasion via audio recording? I don’t know how to tag that. It’s canon that Steve’s DC apartment was bugged. So?

🎆Two | March 27th | Theme: Steve Rogers | Prompt: Guilt | Words: 300 | Canon compliant | Not Rated | No Warnings

🎆 One | March 26th | Theme: On your left | Prompt: The Smithsonian | Words: 250 | Canon compliant | No warnings | Not Rated |

(Ficlets Tumblr-exclusive until all are complete.)

[butchbattlesister]

I want to start uploading battle reports for a crusade I’m playing at my local game store! Partially to keep my momentum up and to get more into the 40K community here!! …. I’m tired of reddit.

————————————————————————

Game 1 - 750 pts - Mission: Scattered Supplies

Adepta Sororitas vs Death Guard

20 - 30

Unfortunately starting out with a loss but it was an overall fun game! I pushed hard in the first half but my experienced partner was helping my new opponent to beat my ass. >:(

————————————————————————

Game 2 - 750 pts - Mission: Secure the Tunnels

Adepta Sororitas vs Tau

50 - 50

A very, very fun tie where both of us left happy and satisfied!! My opponent was very nice, he had a background in the tournament scene but was looking for some more casual play. This mission would have been a great one for sisters if I had a higher point count. We are playing two games at 750, four at 1000, four at 1500, and four at 2000. I know it’s not how the official crusade rules but I’ve been really liking the weekly matched games.

————————————————————————

Game 3 - 1000 pts - Mission: Deference Nexus

Adepta Sororitas vs Tyranids

30 - 45

Bruh I lost so BAD. I really learned a lot about hoard armies in this game and I over prepared for psychic push back. I still felt like it was worthwhile but I was not proud of how I played.

————————————————————————

Game 4 - 1000 pts - Mission: I don’t remember but it was a weird diagonal corner deployment

Adepta Sororitas vs ORKZ

80 - 15

First sisters win!! FOR THE EMPEROR! This was such a fun game not because I won, I promise it felt much closer than the score my reflect. My opponent was so nice, every orkz player is so kind and just there to have a good time and he was no exception! He told me he had some old metal sisters from 2nd edition he might finally go back to working on after learning how cool they are in 10th edition! I even bought a Kommandos kill team off of him!

————————————————————————

Game 5 - 1000 pts - Mission: Polarizing Energies

Adepta Sororitas vs Dark Angels

55 - 25

Little winning streak? This week we were doing in-fighting matches! There are sooo many Dark Angels in this crusade because of the new supplement but it’s not aiding them too much. Oh dude bros, they will never cease underestimating femme players and sisters as an army then be salty!!

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NEXT WEEK….. more nids!

[eirikrjs]

UPDATE 9/2/23

Wow, it's almost fall and I'm still kickin', so here's a proper update about what's been going on with me. I do feel great most days, and with Halloween in season around the US, it makes me very happy. As far as stroke recovery goes, my leg has a newly made brace and my walking in general has greatly improved the past few months. I really don't roll my left foot anymore, in other words, my foot can go flat instead of landing on the ankle and possibly causing injury.

My arm is still mostly nothing but a couple weeks back I was able to move my shoulder again so there's hope. I also got a home electrical stimulation device so I give my arm and hand a jolt for an hour everyday. With time, I feel confident i'll recover.

A great help with my recovery has been the amazing @dagdasgoddess , a fellow young stroke survivor who has been watching out for me and offering encouragement every day for a couple months now, exactly when I needed it. Mentally, stroke recovery is pretty damn tough but most days I feel positive about it, with great thanks to her.

And now on to some business. Shortly before my stroke I was planning on celebrating the 10th anniversary of my blog (which would have been in December of last year, but I was still in the hospital, obviously...) And one of the things I was going to do was photograph and review all the smt demon figures I have, using my special diorama table. I got around to starting the project a couple weeks before the stroke, naturally starting with the Leonard figure. Here's one of the pics:

I also made something of an anniversary banner, just because, I guess:

I also want to talk about some milestones reached, starting with some follower counts. By December last year I finally surpassed 2k followers, so thank you so very much. This is after Kanekos Crib Notes quickly dwarfed my own blog followers shortly after its establishment in like 2014. But now my own blog is even ahead of kcn, as undoubtedly its current annual schedule limits its growth and reach. (But hey, it's almost October, aka KCN MONTH)

The last milestone is above: my Stealing Knowledge blogger has reached half a million views! Unbelievable, thanks for reading and sharing over the years! Identity crisis part 3 remains the most viewed, with over 50k on its own.

Finally, I want to talk about the future. Another 10th anniversary plan was to try and monetize the blog somehow, probably via a Patreon for new articles and such and many other ideas, maybe even doing YouTube videos to answer asks instead of them being all text. I have lots of other ideas too, but they'll have to wait until my arm works again. So instead of monetizing the future, for now I'm just going to ask y'all kindly to chip in for the blog's past. I'm amazed at how much activity the blog still generates from--let's call it "legacy content".

To that end, I have set myself up a kofi account where you can show your appreciation for that "legacy", kuwabara, kuwabara, if you'd like. All money earned will go towards paying down bills accrued during my recovery, like my hyperbaric treatments. In perfect honesty, it's been around 3000 US dollars so far. Don't feel obligated to contribute and thank you all for still sticking around with me despite my relative inactivity. And if course, continue keeping @sorenblr busy if you wish.

I would also not expect my own recovery before next year, that's just stroke for you. Thank you all!!!!!

p.s. I was featured as a stroke survivor again on another therapy facebook post:

[bucoliqves]

How love saved The Master and Margarita

(aka Bulgakov and Nyurenberg's story)

Mikhail Bulgakov and Elena Shilovskaya (née Nyurenberg) met for the first time in 1929 when they were both married - to Lubov Belozerskaya and Yevgeny Shilovskiy respectively.

To quote Elena herself, "I was simply the wife of lieutenant-general Shilovsky, a wonderful, very noble man. It was what they call a happy family: a husband with a high position, two beautiful sons. In general everything was fine. But when I met Bulgakov I knew that this was my fate, in spite of everything, in spite of the incredibly difficult tragedy of separation. It was fast, unusually fast, at any rate for me, love to last my whole life."

She tried everything to avoid him; but then, when they met a year and a half later, the first thing he said to her was "I can't live without you." They began an affair.

In February 1931, Elena's husband found out about their relationship. He demanded they broke it off, and for the sake of their children she never spoke to Bulgakov again for almost a year.

When he met her again, in June 1932, their love was renewed. Elena ran away with him and her children. Bulgakov wrote to Shilovskiy begging him to let Elena go, and after much persistence he finally accepted.

Elena's older son went to live with his father, while her youngest stayed with her. Bulgakov took him under his wing and cared for him like his own child. He divorced Lubov Belozerskaya in October 1932 and married Elena on the next day.

During their honeymoon, while the couple was staying at a hotel in Leningrad, Bulgakov told Elena about a novel he had begun to write years before and that he had burned down in 1930. He had lost all hope for this book, until Elena entered his life. Then, his inspiration had returned. He picked up pen and paper, and started scribbling. When Elena asked him what he was doing, he replied that he was rewriting the book. It was all in his head. But this time, he wanted to add a new character to the story.

Despite being rich and beautiful, Margarita Nikolaevna is not happy at all. Her life is boring and meaningless, until she meets a troubled nameless writer, for whose sake she'll make a deal with the Devil himself. Elena had become the prototype for one of his main characters.

Bulgakov finished editing The Master and Margarita a few weeks before his death with Elena's help. He had been sick and bed ridden for a long time. After he passed, Elena wrote in her diary; "March 10th, 1940. Misha has died."

Elena - who had become Bulgakov's personal secretary and biggest supporter - fought to see her husband's latest, most brilliant work published. She knew it was an impossible task, considering the contents of the book, and their friends tried to discourage her, but she wasn't going to give up on Bulgakov.

First, she tried publishing it on a popular literary newspaper, the Moskva. But the abridged, censored version that got printed was so awful that she eventually stepped back.

Elena kept the manuscript under lock and key for years, and then, in 1967, she finally got it published in France. The first complete version of the novel was released in the Soviet Union in 1973, but illegal copies of it had already been going around for years.

The Master and Margarita was an immediate success. Everyone from all over the world was praising its genius and wit. Eugenio Montale, one of Italy's most important poets and translators of the time, called it "a true miracle".

Margarita - the real Margarita - had once again saved her Master, not letting his name fade away in the mist of time.

The manuscript hadn't burned.

[leiawritesstories]

PART SIX: JUNE

Word count: 8.1k

Warnings: swearing, violence, breaking and entering, fuzzy science, scheming, flirting and more flirting, innuendo, a villain, more violence, blood, minor character death

shout out to @house-of-galathynius for beta reading this hot mess and to @backtobl4ck for encouraging frederick

I don't know if I should say this, but...enjoy!! 😁😈

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Moon Moon!” Aelin clapped her hands twice as she strolled past Fenrys, who lounged against the Boss’s office door like it was the most natural place for him to be. “Thanks for showing up.” 

The blonde man shrugged, a half-smirk curling his lips. “Like I had a choice.” 

“You always do.” She threw him Celaena’s sweet little grin that usually made people either piss themselves, cry, or start babbling. “You can choose to show up, or you can choose to die.” 

“Not much of a choice, Boss,” he drawled. He flopped into the chair across from her desk. “So tell me, who’s the mark?” 

Aelin tapped on her computer for a few minutes before she slid a single sheet of paper across the desk. “Have a good long look, Moon Moon, because this is the only time you’ll see all of this info in one place.” As the Boss, she was many things, and stupid was decidedly not one of them. 

Fen picked up the paper, his dark eyes scanning each line of text and small, grainy photo. He cocked one blonde brow. “Rourke Farran, eh?” Not looking up from the paper, he huffed out a breath. “The man’s whole fuckin’ house is a booby trap, Boss.” 

“I’m aware.” 

“So what’s this bastard done to…god damn.” Before he could even ask the full question, it was answered. “He’s got a front for a front.” 

“I have never tolerated, nor will I ever tolerate, the treatment of human beings like commodities,” Aelin said softly, lethally. Celaena Sardothien’s notorious steel undercut her tone. “Farran thinks he can get away with it because I haven’t come for him. Yet.” 

Fenrys whistled lowly and set down the paper. “What’s your timeline, Boss?” 

Aelin liked this man more and more with each interaction. “I need Farran at the river warehouse by the 10th. You can use whatever means necessary, beat him up a little, get him nice and ready for his session with me, but don’t even fucking think about killing him.” 

“Don’t worry, Boss.” A lazy, hungry grin unfurled across Fen’s handsome face, the dim lamplight reflecting off the scars on his cheeks. “Softening up bad boys is my specialty.” 

“That’s why I hired you.” Aelin took back the paper and tossed it into the shredder next to her desk, which ate through the single sheet with a brief mechanical grinding of teeth. She burned the shreds at the end of each day, never one to take any chances with documents that could potentially be stitched back together. Fenrys stood up to leave, and she waited until he was almost out the door before speaking again. “One more thing, Moon Moon.” 

“Yeah?” He paused, alert, his stance striking an oddly familiar chord in her mind. 

“Farran isn’t dumb enough to put all of his guard dogs in one place.” 

He nodded slowly, working over that little tidbit of information. “Noted. I’ll tell you when he’s ready for you.” With a wink that was far too flirtatious for anyone’s good, Fen left her office. 

Aelin rolled her eyes as she returned to her computer. Her encoded list of targets was shrinking by the week; really, there was only one name left after Rourke Farran received his one-way ticket to her riverside warehouse, and it called to her every day. Some days, it took all of her willpower to stick to her typical Boss hours and Galathynius hours when she knew that if she spent just one more hour as Boss, she could solidify the plans that she’d been simmering for so fucking long. Just before she slit his throat, she’d once murmured to a criminal that she was cleansing the world of villains. In the months since then, that cleansing had nearly been completed. 

She slid her gaze down to the end of the page, following the trail of crimson lines that struck out each name up through Farran’s, and stopped, musing on the last name left. Five letters. One name—the villainous criminal was possibly more elusive than Celaena Sardothien herself. 

Maeve.

On the one hand, it made complete sense that Arobynn’s lover—ex-lover—would have taken over his business, diminished as it was when all of his cronies started fighting over their pieces of the trade after Arobynn died. On the other hand, Aelin had wondered just why the hell Maeve would have wanted to take over Arobynn’s drug- and gun-running business; surely the money couldn’t be the only reason. The more she dug into the grimy, seedy backchannels of truth, though, the more she came to understand why Maeve had done it. 

The woman had been madly in love with Arobynn Hamel, and now she was madly out for blood. 

~

In the prep room of the Gal Inc. labs, Aelin snapped on a fresh pair of sterile blue latex gloves, checked her badge where it was clipped to her lab coat, and nodded at her reflection. It had been seven weeks since Ren had come into the labs to have his SecondSkin changed—she and Nehemia had decided to extend the wearing period to seven weeks, as Ren’s use of SecondSkin was an experiment—and she was curious to see if anything was different. 

“About time,” Nehemia said dryly as Aelin walked into the small, sterile lab, the one that Nehemia typically reserved for experiments that needed to be kept quiet. “I was just about to assume you were in a meeting and start the removal process without you.” 

“Hello to you too, Dr. Ytger,” Aelin returned, just as dryly. “I just had to primp a little longer, you know how much effort it takes to look this good.” 

Nehemia snorted. “Galathynius, if you spent that much time primping, I’d never let you in my lab.” 

“Don’t I know it.” Aelin sat down on the second rolling stool and scooted over to Ren’s side. “Okay, Nemi. It’s your experiment.” 

Quickly but clearly, Nehemia ran through her usual list of removal instructions, then dismissed Ren to go take his shower. He emerged about half an hour later, wearing his robe, his hair damp and his face…

“Aelin, come here.” Nehemia motioned for Ren to sit down and scooted her stool up close so she could examine his ruddy face. “This doesn’t look like a typical hot-shower flush.” 

Aelin scanned the redness on Ren’s face and nodded in agreement. “Allsbrook, does it itch?” 

“Not on my face, no,” he answered. 

“Are you itchy anywhere else?” 

“Yes.” He nodded. “Chest, elbows, upper arms, torso, knees, feet, most of my back, some other areas. It’s not bad, it’s more annoying, like when you have a mosquito bite that you want to scratch.” 

“Would you please remove your robe so we can see if there’s anything visibly wrong with your skin?” Nehemia asked. 

“One sec.” Ren hopped off the chair, went into the shower room, and came back out a moment later. “Just wanted to put my boxers on.” He took off his robe, hung it on the hook in the wall, and sat back down.

“Too much information, Allsbrook,” Aelin grumbled. 

Nehemia ran her analytical gaze over Ren’s body, charting the red rash spread over the areas that he had said were itchy. It looked like an ordinary chafing rash, the skin irritated and slightly split in some places, and some of the redness faded, indicating that it was probably sensitive to the heat of the shower he had taken to remove the SecondSkin. 

“Are you allergic to latex or any of its components?” Nehemia inquired. 

“Not as far as I’m aware, no,” Ren said. 

Nehemia hummed. “Ae, I have thoughts. What do you think?” 

“Prolonged exposure?” Aelin asked. “It almost seems like what happens when you wear the same tightly fitting garment—like a leotard—for an extended period of time and it chafes.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. It could also potentially be compounded by bacteria and dirt buildup under the material. It lays atop the skin, and as much as we want to claim that there’s no gap, we know there has to be a microscopic distance between the material and the wearer’s skin that could allow that to happen.” Nehemia gently touched two gloved fingers to the rash on Ren’s chest. “Does this hurt?” 

“No.” 

She pressed down. “Does it hurt when I do this?” 

He shook his head. “No. Itches, but it doesn’t hurt.” 

“That’s a good sign, at least.” Nehemia sighed. “Okay, Galathynius, we need to talk before we can decide how to move forward.” She beckoned Aelin towards the back of the room. “Should we go ahead with another application?” she asked, her voice lowered to a whisper. 

Aelin pressed her lips together. “Well, we can’t exactly have him disappear while we try and work out the rash.” 

“I don’t want it to spread or get any worse because it wasn’t treated, though,” Nehemia said. “I think we need to at least treat the rash.” 

“Yes, I agree, but how will that work with another application?” Aelin’s brows furrowed. “And how should we treat the rash if we’re not fully certain of what it is and how it works?” 

“We haven’t yet agreed to do another full application,” Nehemia reminded her, “and my instinct is saying to treat it like it’s a normal chafing rash—hydrocortisone cream, Benadryl, that kind of thing.” 

Aelin nodded. “Okay, that sounds fine. How do you think we should apply the SecondSkin?” 

“Hmm.” Nehemia tugged her lower lip between her teeth. “We could selectively apply it and avoid the rash areas. Theoretically, he’s not going to be stripping down in front of anyone for any reason, so he really only needs to have the right fingerprints and face, maybe footprints too. I vote we just apply the SecondSkin to his hands, face and neck, and feet.” 

“I think we should apply it from hands up to elbows, just to be safe, but that sounds like a solid plan. Do we have hydrocortisone cream here?” 

“Should be in the first aid bin.” Nehemia returned to Ren’s chair. “Okay, Allsbrook, here’s how we’re going to proceed. We’ll treat your rash and reapply the synthetic to your hands and lower arms, face and neck, and feet, which should hopefully give the rash time and breathing room to heal. You should apply this cream every day, as often as necessary, to the parts that are most itchy or inflamed.” She took the tube of hydrocortisone cream that Aelin handed her and applied it to Ren’s rash. 

“Is this something I can find at the pharmacy?” he asked. 

“Yes, it’s a common treatment,” Aelin replied. She walked over to the safe built into the far wall, keyed in the combination, opened the compartment, and retrieved a sleek steel canister from inside. She closed the compartment back up and brought the canister over to the prep table next to where Ren sat. 

Nehemia took off her used gloves and replaced them with a fresh pair. “Ready?” 

“Ready,” Ren confirmed. 

Working in tandem, Aelin and Nehemia carefully laid the almost-invisible film of SecondSkin over Ren’s hands, forearms, face, and feet, carefully molding it to his skin. The pieces had all been prepped beforehand, since it took a significant amount of time to press fingerprints and other distinctive blemishes and markings into the synthetic material, and the SecondSkin molded to Ren’s skin flawlessly, leaving almost no evidence that it was there. 

“Come back in two weeks,” Aelin instructed him as she disposed of her gloves. “We’ll want to see if your rash has improved, which will help us decide how to move forward.” 

“Got it.” Ren went back into the bathroom, got dressed, and came back out as Chaol Westfall, contact lenses placed and bland grin on his face. “See you in two weeks, Dr. Ytger, Galathynius.” He left the lab. 

“We should have seen this coming,�� Nehemia groaned when Ren was gone, chucking her gloves into the trash bin. “Honestly, Ae, I feel like such an idiot.” 

“Nemi, you are a genius,” Aelin reassured her. “You’ve been so busy with development and research, and we didn’t even know this could happen until we saw it today.” 

“Yeah.” The chief engineer sighed. “I need to go chart all of this, and you probably have meetings or whatever shit you do in your big fancy office.” She smirked at Aelin.

Aelin rolled her eyes, nudging her friend in the shoulder. “I’d say something smartass, but I do have a meeting pretty soon. Let me know if anything comes up with Allsbrook, yeah?” 

“Of course.” Nehemia waved and turned down a side hallway towards her office. Aelin headed back to the prep room, put her lab coat in the laundry basket, and collected her things before heading to her office and the inevitable day of meetings. 

Two weeks later, Ren came back to the labs, his rash significantly improved. Nehemia removed and reapplied the SecondSkin in the same few areas and instructed him to keep treating the rash, as she didn’t want to move forward with full SecondSkin application until it had completely healed. 

“It’s a good sign that the rash is healing,” she told Aelin over the phone later that day. “In theory, that means the SecondSkin could cause a rash from chafing, irritation, or prolonged use, but the rash can be treated like normal.” 

“Definitely a good sign.” Aelin jotted down that note. “Hopefully, that means SecondSkin can be used for the wide audience we’ve been intending all along.”

“How much longer do you think this is going to be in development and testing?” Nehemia asked. “It’s been over two years, Ae. Shouldn’t this be about the time where we start to consider trial groups?” 

“I’d say yes, but we’ve only just learned about the rash, and we’re not yet sure if the current formula won’t cause that rash.” Aelin was partially thinking out loud. “My gut says to wait until the Ren trial isn’t getting a rash, and then move into trial groups.” Which will give me more time to get rid of Maeve before she can make a move for the SecondSkin tech like Arobynn did, she added silently. 

She was the only person who knew why Arobynn Hamel had died when he did—the former crime lord had taken one step too close to her highly guarded technology, and she’d had no choice but to retaliate. It was…not unexpected that Maeve would try to do the same. 

~

Fenrys Moonbeam might very well be insane. 

People had told him that frequently, ever since he was a reckless kid jumping off the playground structures at school, but he’d never had the thought himself until he was strolling into the Night Owl—a popular nightclub that was rumored to be the primary front of Maeve’s organization—in tight leather pants, a silver sequined jacket, and no shirt. Because rumor also had it that Maeve, the so-called Queen of the Night, had a…taste for handsome men, and he had it on good information that Rourke Farran was a frequent guest at the Night Owl. 

He sauntered up to the bouncer with a lazy, easy grin sprawled across his face. “Hey.” 

The bouncer, who could accurately be depicted as a concrete brick, stared flatly at him. “Invitation only, fancy boy.” 

“I’m with Cadre,” Fen returned, sliding his hand into his jacket to retrieve a beautiful ivory card with purple script embossed across its fine surface. He waved the card at the bouncer. “And they’re expecting me in ten minutes, so it would be great if you’d let me get my pretty ass through the door.” 

“Fuckin’ performers,” the bouncer muttered as he swung open the door. 

“Thank you,” Fen crooned, blowing a kiss at the stone-faced man. The door slammed behind him, and he tucked the invitation—expertly forged by Celaena’s man Nox—back into his jacket and slipped into the crowd of dancing bodies. He winked and smirked his way through the crowd, letting the thumping beat of the music ease his rhythm, until he reached the bar. 

Sure enough, Rourke Farran lounged on a barstool near the far end, one hand around a bottle of beer and the other around the waist of a blonde woman whose lipstick was littered all over his neck. 

Fenrys muffled the snort he wanted to let out and waved over the bartender. “I’ll take a Sex on the Beach,” he purred, giving the guy, who was probably in his early twenties, a wink. 

The bartender’s blush was faintly visible in the flashing strobe lights. “Want that extra strong?” His gaze flicked ever so quickly to Fen’s bare chest. 

“Give it to me as-is, and then we’ll see.” Fen lowered his eyes to half-mast and watched the bartender make his drink. The other man threw the drink together effortlessly, sliding it across the bartop to Fenrys with a little smile of his own. 

“I get off shift in an hour,” he said softly, dark blue eyes alight with hope and a little hesitancy. 

“Good to know.” Fen took a long sip of his cocktail and nodded appreciatively. “Delicious.” In his periphery, he noticed Farran push the blonde out of his lap and stand up, swaying a little, and turn towards the dancefloor. 

He brushed past Fen on his way over. “Get a fuckin’ room,” he slurred, his glassy-eyed gaze flicking once over Fen’s glittering jacket and tight pants. “Goddamn fancy boy.” 

“I’ll be back.” Fen drained the rest of his drink, tossed a twenty on the bar, and rose, following Farran into the sea of dancing bodies. He kept a discreet distance from the man, far enough away to not be noticed but close enough to watch the man’s moves. 

As he had suspected, Farran oozed sleaziness. What he was doing on the dancefloor barely passed for dancing; his gyrating hips and roaming hands were just barely short of outright having sex in public. He moved from girl to girl, changing partners as often as the music changed, leaving a good number of people giving him dirty looks for being too handsy. Fen snorted, knowing that the man probably deserved their scorn. Farran began to move towards the doors, and Fen slipped onto the dancefloor himself, moving fluidly through the crowd, keeping a constant eye on Farran’s steady, subtle escape route. 

Time to move, Moonbeam. 

Feeling a twinge of guilt for not staying to meet the cute bartender, Fenrys watched Farran leave the club and waited exactly a minute and a half before he headed out as well, putting enough unsteadiness in his step to indicate intoxication. Once he was out of the club, he glanced down the street in both directions and then went left. Even if he couldn’t track Farran, he knew where the bastard lived. 

After a quick pit stop in an alley to swap out his flashy jacket for a closely fitted black knit turtleneck, Fenrys headed into the tidy grid of streets that made up western Orynth, taking a meandering route towards the tidy, wealthy neighborhood where Rourke Farran lived. The neighborhood was decked out with security cameras, as Celaena had warned him, so he looped around through the expansive back yards, slinking easily through the landscaped trees and plants until he came to the fence that marked the edge of Farran’s property. There weren’t cameras along the back fence, primarily because of the rotating patrol of guard dogs and security guards, so Fen swiftly scaled the fence and hopped into a tree. 

He waited for the first round of patrols to pass before he carefully reached into the thigh pocket of his pants, withdrew a slim, vacuum-sealed package of meat, quietly cut open the plastic, and tossed the meat in a gentle arc directly onto the grass beside the paved walkway that wove around Farran’s house. A pair of guard dogs came barreling around the corner within sixty seconds, barking and growling and quickly discovering the meat. The second and third patrols weren’t far behind, and it was only a few minutes before all eight guard dogs were tearing apart the meat. 

“The fuck is happening?” A security guard rounded the corner, breathless from sprinting. He saw the dogs calming down and settling back into their patrols after having finished the meat. “God. Which idiot dropped snacks everywhere?” 

Another guard sprinted around the corner. “Everything okay?” 

“One of you jackasses dropped the dogs’ snacks,” the first guard snapped. 

The second one raised his hands in innocence. “I’m not the snack keeper tonight, dude.” 

“Whatever. Just get your ass back to rounds.” The guards nudged the dogs back onto the path and headed away. 

Mentally, Fenrys started counting minutes. He got to four, then five, then slowly and carefully slid down from the tree and darted across the lawn and onto the shadowed back porch. A moment later, he’d scaled the drainpipe leading up the side of the house and was perched on the balcony directly outside the master bedroom. 

Wherein Rourke Farran was fully naked in front of his mirror, with his—

“Fucking hell,” Fen groaned to himself, shaking his head. “Disgusting.” But also enough of a distraction for him to slip down onto the balcony, pull a slender silver tube from his sleeve, raise it to his lips, and blow a tiny needle dart straight into the back of Farran’s neck. 

Farran crumpled to the floor. 

Good work, Moonbeam, Fenrys complimented himself. Now you just have to get the asshole out of his booby-trap house and over to the river warehouse.

Easy. 

Right?

~

“He’s all yours, Boss,” Fenrys drawled as Aelin strolled past on the way out of the storage warehouse. 

She glanced at her smart watch. “It’s only the eleventh, Moon Moon. That was quick.” 

He shrugged, irreverent as always. “What can I say? I like to work fast.” 

“Hopefully not all the time.” She smirked wickedly. “Your bartender boyfriend might be disappointed.”

Fenrys flushed a delightful shade of pink. “How the fuck—”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answered, Moon Moon.” She winked wickedly at him. “How’s our special guest doing? Is he adjusted to his new home?” 

“It took him some time to get used to the room,” Fen returned, casually pulling a set of brass knuckles from a pocket of his cargo pants and spinning them over his fist. 

Aelin chuckled, soft and lethal. “Not surprising. Thanks, Fen.” She paused just in front of the side door, her gloved knuckles resting on the doorknob. “Oh, Moon Moon?” 

“Yeah?” He froze, his posture still as a…soldier’s. 

“I’ll need you for cleanup on the twenty-seventh.” 

He nodded. “Got it, Boss.” 

Aelin keyed in the door code and left the warehouse, satisfied that she had set the wheels of her plan in motion. While she trusted Con’s assessment of his brother, she wasn’t fully convinced that she could completely trust anyone on her payroll, and Fen’s easy charm masked a cold, heartless willingness to carry out whatever depraved task she demanded of him. Furthermore, that stance of his—the utter stillness of his posture when someone ordered him to stop—had been pricking at her memory for days, and she’d only just realized why. 

Fenrys stood like a soldier. More than that—he stood like one of her uncle’s men, one of the Terrasen Special Forces. 

And Aelin knew the day one of Gav’s men got into Celaena Sardothien’s business would be the day her double identity began to crumble. Even if she wanted to trust Fenrys, she had to confirm for herself that she could, and that meant giving him a fake kill date in case he needed to report back to someone in the military. 

If he did, if he turned out to be a spy, then the TSF would come sniffing around for Rourke Farran when it was already weeks too late. 

~

Aelin laced her fingers with Rowan’s as they strolled through the fancy restaurant’s glass front doors, something settling deep in her chest at the simple, casual intimacy of holding his hand. Her mind had been running in overdrive for the last two weeks, and even now, with ten days left in the month, she hadn’t been able to slow the constant dizzying whirl of her thoughts. 

Rowan was one of the only people who’d brought her a glimpse of peace recently, in the few scattered dates they’d been able to snatch between both of their busy schedules. He flicked her a tiny, secret smile, one that only she ever saw, before approaching the hostess stand with the same confidence that cloaked him when he was in his investigator clothes and badge. And dear god, the things that confidence did to her already throbbing pussy—she was half tempted to slip off her panties and sneak them to him under the table. 

But she was a mature woman, so she wouldn’t. 

“Whitethorn, party of two, seven-thirty reservation,” Rowan said to the hostess. 

The young woman—probably a college student, if Aelin’s guess was correct—tapped a few things into her tablet. “Your table is ready, Mr. Whitethorn. Please, this way.” She led Rowan and Aelin through the low-lit restaurant towards the far wall of windows. Through the glass was a breathtaking view of Orynth, the city cast in shades of bronze as the sun began to drift downwards. 

“Gorgeous,” Aelin murmured, captivated by the view. 

Rowan’s thumb brushed across the back of her hand. “Not half as much as you.” 

She blushed. “You’re quite the flirt, you—oh!” Unexpectedly, a man’s shoulder brushed hers as they wove through the restaurant floor. She looked up to find none other than Police Captain Chaol Westfall, wearing a nice suit and a mildly shocked expression. 

“M–Miss Galathynius,” he finally managed, clearing his throat. “And, ah, Lieutenant Whitethorn. I…I apologize for running into you.” 

“Westfall, what are you doing here?” Rowan inquired, polite on the surface but with narrowed, suspicious eyes. 

“Considering we aren’t at work, it’s none of your business, White-horn, but I was at dinner with a friend of mine,” Chaol shot back. There was definite animosity underlying his words. 

Rowan raised a brow. “You…have friends?” 

“Ah, lighten up, darling,” Aelin interjected before either man could resort to fists. “We don’t all live at our workplace, as we seem to have discovered. And Ro, darling, we’ve left that poor hostess floundering.” She wrapped her hand around his arm and tugged him towards their table. 

He shot Chaol one last suspicious look. Chaol returned the look, but broke the stare-off to nod respectfully at Aelin as she passed. “Ms. Galathynius.” 

When they reached their table, Rowan pulled out Aelin’s chair before seating himself across from her. Questions brewed in the shifting of his eyes. “Question, Ae—do you know Westfall? How?” 

“That was two questions,” she teased. “Yes, I’ve met Captain Westfall before. It’s all part of the business; I’ve met just about every notable figure in Orynth at some function or another. I probably met the police captain at some kind of gala.” 

Rowan nodded slowly, digesting the information. “That makes sense. All those faces probably run together after long enough, yeah?” 

“I try to keep them separate, but yeah.” She flashed him a sheepish grin. “There’s only so many names and faces you can memorize before they all start to appear the same.” 

“Why, Miss Galathynius,” Rowan drawled, his face alight with mischief, “are you implying that there are too many men in suits in this fine city?” 

She shrugged, meeting the gleam of his humor with her own dry wit. “I’m simply observing that if a few less of them were to bother me at every function I attend, my mind would be clearer.” 

“I thought you had a mind like a steel trap, love.” Raising a brow, he sipped his water. 

“It sometimes takes a moment to pull out a name from the file cabinet,” she returned. “And—oh look, here comes our server.” Their server, a sandy-blonde-haired man in his late twenties wearing the restaurant staff’s uniform of white shirt, black trousers, and maroon tie, wore a pleasant (if tired) smile as he pulled his notepad from his apron pocket. 

“Good evening,” he said cheerfully. “My name is James, and I’ll be your server tonight. Would you like to hear about our specials this evening?” 

Aelin glanced at Rowan, whose eyes had visibly narrowed as he scanned the server. The look was so blatantly male, she almost rolled her eyes, but her possessive buzzard relaxed when he saw the silver wedding band adorning the server’s left ring finger. “I actually think we’re ready to order, if that’s alright?” 

James the server just about melted to the floor in relief. “Are you serious?” he asked, lowering his voice to an incredulous whisper. “I—I haven’t had a single easy table tonight, and it’s the last two hours of a double and—I’m so sorry, that was completely unprofessional of me.” 

Aelin chuckled. “Don’t worry, James, was it? Customer service is a rough job.” 

“Tell me about it,” the man grumbled. 

Rowan shot Aelin a confused look. “Ae, love, I haven’t even looked at the menu.” 

“Do you trust me, love?” she asked. 

He pursed his lips, not quite used to letting someone else order his food. “All right.” 

“Perfect.” She blew him a subtle kiss. “Okay, James, is it alright if I give you our order a few steps away?” She lowered her voice conspiratorially, keeping it still loud enough for Rowan to hear. “I want to surprise my boyfriend; I’ve been here more than once but he hasn’t ever been.” 

“Of course.” James smiled, a genuine one this time. “I brought my wife here once when we were dating—took half my paycheck, but it was worth it.” He stepped aside a few paces and Aelin followed, quietly giving her and Rowan’s order. The server’s pen flew over his page. 

“And say hi to Chef Emrys for me, would you?” she concluded. 

“You…you know the head chef?” 

“Bit of a long story, but yes. Tell him Aelin Galathynius says hi, please. Thanks!” She came back to the table and slipped into her seat, leaving the very nice but very shocked server to collect his wits after realizing just who he was talking to and go to place the order. 

“Poor guy looks like he just got hit by a truck,” Rowan observed, smothering a laugh.

Aelin smirked. “I may or may not have given him my full name.” 

“Ah, the name drop.” He nodded sagely. “Just what every famous CEO has to do to the poor server who got their table.” 

“You’ve got quite a mouth for a soldier, you know,” Aelin mused, her words slowing to a near- seductive pace. “A respectable man would never insinuate that his date uses her job title for perks.” 

“I never said I was respectable.” Lazily, his gaze roamed down her upper body, admiring the way her little black dress scooped beneath her collarbones, accentuating the gleam of the single small teardrop diamond pendant that nestled in the hollow of her throat. 

James came by with two glasses of white wine and an appetizer platter with two sharing plates, breaking the dangerous haze of the moment, and Aelin thanked the server as he headed off, no doubt to take care of his other tables. 

Rowan’s jaw slacked just a bit at the sight of the cured meat and prawns arranged on the plate. “Please tell me you didn’t order the most expensive things on the menu, Ae.” 

“Of course not.” She reached across the table and linked her hands with his, the gesture as natural as breathing. “I got us an appetizer to share, a first course, a meat course, and a dessert, and I’m not the kind of person who orders expensive items just to flash her money around.” 

He breathed out a deep, controlled exhale. “I know, love. It’s just…” His thumb rubbed across her knuckles. “I’m not used to any of this—the fancy restaurants, the fancy food, the way people don’t bat an eye at spending thirty dollars for some toast.” 

She cracked a grin at that. “Let me introduce you to the fine, fine work of Chef Emrys, then. I actually used to work for him, way back when I was eighteen and my parents decided I needed to experience real-people jobs.” 

“Way back when,” he drawled, teasing her. 

“Hush, old man,” she teased right back, plating up a sampling of the appetizer plate and sliding it over to him. “I know I’m only twenty-seven, but my stint as a hostess feels like forever ago.” 

“Kind of like how basic training feels like forever ago for me.” Rowan agreed. He bit into one of the cured prawns and nearly moaned, his eyes closing in joy. “God, this is incredible.” 

She beamed. “Wait until you taste Chef Emrys’s filet mignon, Ro.” 

The conversation flowed freely between them after that, only interrupted by the arrival of new food and wine. A mushroom and herb risotto accompanied by an aged Riesling. The promised filet mignon, which almost made Rowan cry with joy, and a spectacular six-year Merlot. And finally, individual blackberry cobblers, the berries ripe and fresh and perfectly sweet-tart, paired with the restaurant’s signature Cabernet. 

“I don’t think I can move,” Rowan sighed as he set down his last empty wineglass. “But it was absolutely worth every bite.” 

“I think I’m going to dream of this cobbler,” Aelin added, regretfully nudging her empty dish towards the end of the table. “Tell me when you’re ready to leave, yes?” 

“Gonna need three to five business days,” he mumbled. 

Her laughter rippled across their low-lit table. “I love when you let that humor of yours loose.” 

A different kind of hunger flickered in his forest eyes. “And I love when I have you all to myself.” 

“Possessive much?” 

He just shrugged. “Call me whatever you want, love, but we both know you only come for me.” 

Flames flickered through her blood at the deep, sinful timbre of his voice. “That’s only because I haven’t introduced you to my drawer full of battery-powered boyfriends.” 

The banked embers simmering in his expression flared into a bonfire, and he sat upright and beckoned their server over. “Suddenly, I’m ready to go home.” 

James was at their table within two minutes. “How was everything for you tonight? Can I get you anything else?” 

“It was absolutely mind-blowing, as always,” Aelin said. “And no, I think we’ll just take the check.” Covertly, she slipped James her credit card, and he gave her a small nod as he went over to the server computer to process the payment. 

“Don’t think I didn’t hear you,” Rowan murmured, the velvet caress of his voice stroking down her spine. “Mind-blowing, Ae?” 

“Would you happen to know anything about that?” she asked, innocently. 

In response, he trailed a brazen stare down her figure. “Seems like you need a refresher.” He stood up far too smoothly for someone who had just finished his fourth glass of wine, gave her his hand for stability as she rose, and then rested that hand against the small of her back, his touch burning through her dress. 

Their server returned with a check folder in his hand and passed it over to Aelin, who glanced over the receipts, signed her name, and tucked her credit card and her copy of the receipt back into her small handbag. “Thanks, James.” 

“Ah, thank you, Ms. Galathynius, Mr. Whitethorn. You might have been the best table I’ve had all day.” He tucked the folder into his apron pocket with a wry grin. “Have a good one!” 

“If it’s good, it won’t be just one,” Rowan whispered into Aelin’s ear. 

A shiver danced down her neck. “Is that a promise, Lieutenant?” 

He held the door open for her as they left the restaurant. “Ask me again when you’re begging for my cock, love.” 

~

Ren Allsbrook, alias Chaol Westfall, was expecting Whitethorn’s visit, but the man’s presence in his office still gave him an oddly unsettled feeling. 

He pasted a bland, blasé expression onto his face. “Yes, Whitethorn?” 

Rowan dropped into the chair opposite Ren’s, regarding him with a piercing look that almost seemed to pierce beneath the layer of SecondSkin cloaking his true identity. “How the hell do you know Aelin, Westfall?” 

Ren shrugged. “We met at some city leader event a while back. Some big thing the mayor hosted so the big names of Orynth could pretend to be civil to each other.” 

“Yeah? How long ago was that?” 

Fucking think, Allsbrook. Chaol Westfall had been the police captain for about three years, Ren had taken over as Chaol six months ago in January, and the mayor’s Leaders Gala was always held in…the fall…“Last October, I believe. You’ll have to give me a little grace on the estimate, since I was damn busy with actual work.” 

“Cute of you to think you can get away with sneering at me from your soapbox, Westfall,” Whitethorn said dryly. “Well, I checked the dates, and the mayor always holds his little party in October, so I’ll buy your story.” 

“My story, huh? When did you get so desperate for leads that you started accusing coworkers, Whitethorn?” 

“Shut up,” Rowan grunted. “I’m just making sure you haven’t been doing anything shady with my girlfriend, jackass.” 

“Ooooooh, we’re using official terms now?” Ren couldn’t resist the urge to press Whitethorn’s buttons. “I thought you were allergic to that kind of commitment.” 

“I wouldn’t get smart-mouthed with me, Westfailure,” Rowan grumbled. “I’ve seen you going to the Galathynius labs. What the hell are you doing there?” 

Ren muffled a rather creative string of curses. “Whitethorn, I know you’re terse, but what the hell was that subject change? Give me some goddamn context, for shit’s sake.” 

“Fine.” Rowan pulled up some security camera footage on his tablet. “This is a record of the feed from the Galathynius, Inc. lab complex’s security cameras, and before you open your mouth, I have clearance. Two and a half weeks ago, on June 4th, you went to the labs. You went again yesterday.” He tapped on the video, and the footage played, clearly showing Chaol walk into the labs and walk back out after a period of fast-forwarding through nothing. 

“Well.” Think, you fucking idiot! “Since we are currently quietly investigating a connection between Galathynius, Incorporated, and the, uh, Shadow Killer—”

“Shadow Assassin,” Rowan corrected. 

“Whatever. That person. You think there’s a connection, and I’m pursuing it. I happen to know a scientist who works in the Galathynius labs, and I set up a couple of meetings to speak with her.” Ren folded his arms across his chest. Buy the story, Whitethorn. 

Whitethorn frowned. “Why didn’t I hear about these meetings?” 

“Because I was being discreet, duh.” Ren poured a heavy dose of sarcasm into the last word.

Rowan grumbled something that sounded like a string of cussing. “I didn’t get sent to this investigation for the laugh track, Westfall.” He stood up and left the office, carelessly banging the door shut behind him. 

“Jackass,” Ren grumbled. He turned back to the endless slog of paperwork and files he had to get through, because the job of police captain came with a lifetime supply of that shit. Against all beliefs, he’d actually come to enjoy this job, this role, and he was just as invested in the case as Whitethorn was. 

He just happened to be on a different side. 

~

This is fucking insane, this is fucking insane, this is fucking insane. Those were the words running through Fenrys’s head as he and his twin strolled down the secret back stars of the Night Owl. He was barely able to focus on the opulence of the hallway—plush velvet lining the walls, fine mahogany banisters, and black wall torches and overhead lights giving the whole space a deep purple glow—when his mind was so focused on what lay at the end of the walk. 

“Relax,” Con muttered. “Don’t get us fucking killed before we’ve found out what she wants.”

“I’m trying,” Fen grumbled. He straightened the lapels of his jacket, the same sequined one he’d worn to the Night Owl three weeks ago. “But—”

“But nothing.” Con cut him off. “Remember why we’re here.” 

“Right.” Because Celaena had trusted the two of them with infiltrating Maeve’s lair. Because they were the key to taking down the last obstacle in Boss Sardothien’s path, whatever the hell it was. 

The masked guard in front of the twins stopped at a dark wooden door at the end of the hall. “Wait here,” he said, expressionless. He went into the room, closed the door behind him, and came out a few minutes later just as expressionless. “Maeve will see you now.” And he opened the door. 

Fenrys took a quick, deep breath and strolled into the dark-paneled office, Con at his side, both of their gazes immediately locking onto the woman who sat behind the imposing black marble desk at the far end of the room. Her face was pale, nearly opalescent in the darkness, her lips were stained scarlet, and her unnervingly violet gaze was fixed on the twins. 

“Thank you for being willing to meet on such short notice, boys,” Maeve said, her calm, cold voice slicing through the room like a blade. 

“Our honor,” Fen replied. Maeve gestured at the pair of leather chairs opposite her desk, and the twins sat down. 

She steepled her fingers under her chin. “I have a job for you.” 

Con shared a loaded look with Fen. “Both of us, or just one?” 

“Both of you. I need one of you for each side of the job.” 

Slowly, Fen nodded. “Alright. What can we do for you?” 

One corner of Maeve’s scarlet lips curled upwards. She retrieved a thin manila file from her desk and slid it across the desktop. “Fenrys, kill this man.” The order was as clearly and casually enunciated as if she was asking for a glass of water. “Connall, you will stay here to monitor Fenrys’s task.” 

Beside Fenrys, Con’s posture stiffened. “How?” 

“We have an advanced tech space that will provide all the equipment you need, as well as the chance to experiment with some of the devices we’re working on.” A gleam flickered briefly through the Queen of the Night’s unflinching stare. “And I require company.” 

“Alright.” Con dipped his head in acquiescence, flatly refusing to meet the sharp, concerned gaze Fen shot towards him. 

“Excellent.” Maeve smiled, and it sent a shiver down Fenrys’s spine. “You may go, Fenrys. I expect it won’t take you too long to get the job done.” 

“I pride myself on efficiency,” he smirked, masking the oily chill in his blood with a lazy, half-wild grin. He rose, nodded at Maeve, and strolled out of the room and then out of the club, his steps sure and unfaltering until he was around the corner and out of sight. 

Then, he ducked into a side alley and slumped against the wall, his veneer of easy confidence dropping to reveal his hidden terror. Fuck! He’d left his brother in that spider’s lair; gods only knew what could happen if either of them failed to do what Maeve commanded. Hands shaking, Fenrys reached into the hidden inner pockets of his jacket, his fingers closing around the comfortingly cold steel of his favorite twin flat knives and the envelope containing the thick piece of cardstock that had been in the file. The least he could do—for himself, for Connall, and for the man he had to kill—was carry out his task quickly, before the Queen of the Night could hurt his brother.

And so, heart heavy, Fenrys Moonbeam adjusted his jacket and the weapons contained within it and began his prowl towards Orynth Police headquarters.

~

Rowan arrived at Orynth PD unusually early on the morning of June 30. After a restless night—he’d tossed and turned far into the wee hours of the morning, snatched probably three solid hours of sleep, and had a muddled collection of dream snippets—he’d just decided to bite the bullet and drag his ass out of bed at five in the morning. Shortly before six, he keyed in his code at the door of the police station, let himself into the quiet, chilly building, and dragged himself to the locker room to dump his bag and splash some icy water on his face. With his vest strapped on and his badge around his arm, he grabbed his laptop bag and trudged up the stairs to the offices, ducking into his office to drop off his things and try to form a to-do list. 

Fuck, he needed caffeine. He needed it badly enough that he’d even drink the bitter shit from the common-room carafe. So he pushed his chair in, left his office, and went down to the bullpen, following the faint scent of the first batch of coffee. Operating on autopilot, he was halfway to the break room before he smelled it. 

Blood. 

That coppery tang was unmistakable. 

Fuck. 

Coffee forgotten, Rowan whirled around and strode back to the bullpen, following his nose like some kind of hound. A bloodhound, whispered the traitorous part of his mind that sounded an awful lot like Aelin’s witty laugh. In any other context, he might have laughed along. But not this time. Head down, he tracked the metallic stench of blood across the bullpen, its tang growing heavier with each successive step he took. The blood, wherever it was, was still fresh enough to be that strong, but old enough to have spread its scent through a significant part of the floor. Both of those things worried him. A lot. 

Hand straying to his holster, Rowan rounded the corner towards the cluster of desks where the detectives and Westfall worked whenever Westfall was in the bullpen. He inhaled, catching a lungful of blood-scent, so strong it nearly knocked him back. That part of the floor was still shadowed in the early-morning dimness, so he flicked on the nearest light for a better visual. 

The flashlight in his hand clattered to the floor. His other hand clenched around the cold, smooth handle of his gun. 

He’d found the source of the blood stench. 

He blinked. Shook his head. He snapped his jaw shut, swore at himself a few times, imagined Gav yelling at him for losing his mind like a goddamn fucking green idiot, and took one step forwards. 

He froze. 

Sprawled facedown in a pool of his own blood, the back of his skull concave as if bashed in with a heavy, blunt object, with a bullet hole ripped through his temple and knives pinning his now-limp hands to the desk, was Chaol Westfall. 

Rowan locked up the side of himself that immediately started screaming questions and approached Chaol’s…corpse…carefully, forcing the investigative side of himself to take the lead. He cautiously nudged Westfall with his baton, noting the lack of response. With that amount of blood loss, he’d be more shocked if the man was alive, but he still had to go through the steps. As much as he could, Rowan circled the body, clocking each new wound he found on the man’s body. It was…more brutal than he had initially noticed, slashes and cuts scattered over the body, as well as the knives stabbed through the hands and the obvious point-blank range of the bullet, marked by its entry and exit wounds. 

As he came to the other side, Rowan stopped once again, because there was a goddamned note tacked to Westfall’s forehead. No—nailed to his forehead. 

Fuck.

He pulled on the pair of latex gloves he kept tucked into his belt and gingerly reached for the note, lifting it up enough to read it. He didn’t remove it; he was too experienced to fuck with a crime scene like that. He did, however, lift up the paper, which was surprisingly thick and high-quality for a fucking assassin signoff. Three words were printed onto the note in dark ink. He tilted the paper slightly, and the black ink shimmered with a dark purple sheen, indicative both of its quality and probably of the signature colors of whoever the hell had written the message. 

Tread carefully, Lieutenant. 

There was no signature. There was, however, a symbol stamped beneath the short, threatening message. Rowan peered at the stamp, sharp gaze scanning it until the shape came into focus. It was an almost photographic image of an owl, the bird posed in eerie stillness, its inked eyes large and unblinking. And atop the owl’s head sat a crown, a perfect arc of five jeweled spikes. 

It was the mark of the Queen of the Night.

~~~

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