#in which rowan buys things

[hxney-lemcn]

Not Allowed — Lorsan (AFK Journey/Arena) x gn! reader

summary: you met a strange wilder and found yourself falling for your fantasy. What seemed like a dream had become a distant memory, but Lorsan thought of it as anything but.

tw: uhhhh lovesick fools making stupid decisions

a/n: I kinda went off on this one. Ending kinda sucks, sorry.

wc: 2.7k

Master List

It has been a fairly normal day for you. You woke up before the crack of dawn, barely taking care of yourself before you made your way outside. It was a crisp autumn morning just like any other which helped you wake up slightly. You dragged yourself over to the chicken coop after picking up your basket. The hens were barely awake, all the easier to grab their eggs. After refilling their water and food, you put the eggs safely away in your kitchen. Then you made your way over to your dairy cows. The nice thing about cows was that you didn’t have to feed them, the bad part was giving them water. You started the horrendous trek of taking your metal bucket, going over to the water pump, filling the bucket, carrying it over to the water trough, and repeating the cycle. 

After all the animals were taken care of, you made your way back to your house to fully take care of yourself. I mean your animals were fed, time to feed yourself. The sun was shining brightly now, the sound of your animals filling the silence. It was a comforting atmosphere, something you wouldn’t trade for the world. You decided to cook a few of the eggs, after all, it's best to have them fresh and you had the freshest. It was when you made your way back to milk your cows had your day changed. 

“Oh boy!” You heard an energetic voice call out. “I wonder if there’s any food.” Fully opening your front door, you watched as a man with bunny ears looked around your farm. At first glance you did find him cute, but that doesn’t mean he can just go stealing your hard work. 

“Excuse me!” You called out, walking over to him. “Do you need food?” The man paused, quickly turning around, he looked as if you had caught him taking a cookie from the cookie jar.

“Oh, uhm, you see I’ve been traveling a great distance and I haven’t had much to eat,” He explained, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “I didn’t mean any harm.”

The sheepish look on his face had quickly calmed you down, and you felt yourself sympathizing with him, “I can make you something if you’d like.”

“Really?” He asked, perking up. 

“Yeah,” You smiled back. “As long as I can get your name first.” You both introduced yourselves to each other, and you made him a salad at his request (thankfully you still had some lettuce and vegetables). As he ate, Lorsan, as you learned, had talked of his adventures and all he had learned. You, a mere farmer, were quite intrigued by his tales. You rarely left the farm as you sold your products to Rowan who would come to you. The only time you left was to go to the local village to buy items you were running low on once a week. So Lorsan’s tales were quite fascinating. 

“I have to finish my chores now,” You spoke up after Lorsan finished his food. 

“I can help,” He replied, ears twitching slightly. “To thank you for your kindness.”

“Do you know how to milk a cow?” You asked, head tilting to the side. 

“Well…no,” Lorsan responded sheepishly, then a bright smile took over his face. “But I’m a quick learner!”

“I don’t see why not,” You smiled back. His enthusiasm was contagious. You were quickly proven that you should not have trusted him so easily.

“Ah! Careful!” You exclaimed, quickly grasping Lorsan’s wrists to stop him from squeezing too hard. “You’re gonna hurt her if you squeeze like that. You gotta be firm but gentle. Like this.” You moved your hands to cover his and showed him the right amount of pressure. 

“I-I see,” Lorsan stuttered slightly, you missed the way his cheeks turned a light pink. He proceeded to follow your directions after you stepped back and you smiled proudly at how well he was doing now. You had to teach Lorsan how to do some basic chores, but with him by your side, you found yourself enjoying the daily routine that started to feel boring. By the time you both finished, the sun was starting to set.

Feeling a bit of concern (and a bit of selfishness), you asked Lorsan if he wanted to stay for the night. Once again, he was a bit astounded at how kind you had been to him so far. Not to say that people from other villages were unkind, it’s just they were more hesitant to help, and none of them had gone as far as you had. Yes, he had helped you with your chores, but it didn’t feel like much of a chore as you did it together, making jokes together. In fact, Lorsan found himself dreading the day coming to an end. He couldn’t waste any time in just one spot, as the longer he took to find someone to help his people, the more danger they may find themselves in. 

Normally, Lorsan would fool around, he was notorious for his mischievousness back in the dark forest (much to his dismay), but he couldn’t make light of his people’s situation. He had no idea how bad the corruption had gotten, and he feared that by the time he got help it would be too late. It had already been two years since he left after all. But his naive personality still poked through. 

He agreed to your invitation to stay the night as it wouldn’t hurt to get rest in a proper bed. He messed with the salad you made him, green eyes continuing to glance up at you every so often. The conversation had come to a lull as you started to consume your stew. Lorsan felt conflicted, he greatly enjoyed your presence, even if you both had only known each other for a short period of time. He didn’t want to leave so soon, he enjoyed how easily he was able to make you laugh, the look of awe in your eyes as he mentioned his abilities as a Windwhisperers, and your gentle touch as you corrected him. 

His heart beat faster at the memory. Lorsan thought he was coming down with something. It was weird, he hadn’t felt this strongly towards someone before, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. It kept gnawing at him, a part of him wanted to stay, even if it was for just a bit longer, but his guilty conscience weighed more heavily.

“I wish you could join me,” Lorsan spoke, eyes falling onto a tomato amidst the leafy greens. 

You paused, but didn’t think too much of what he said, “That would be nice. Your travels sound quite fun when you’re not being chased off.” You laughed lightly at the teasing remark, but quickly stopped when Lorsan didn’t laugh with you. 

Your eyes scanned his face. His emerald eyes were down cast, his lips tugged slightly downwards. He used his fork to push around his food, ears slightly droopy. You then realized he was being 100% serious and you felt your heart jump. The scenario reminded you of a cheesy scene in a romantic novel you managed to read in your sparse free time. 

“You would love the dark forest,” Lorsan continued, now twirling his fork. “I think you would get along well with Lyca.”

You fiddled with your napkin, suddenly feeling a heavy weight on your shoulders. He does understand your position, right? You are the sole owner of this farm, you have a life, you have animals and people that depend on you. There was no way you could just drop everything on a whim because you met a cute wilder who wanted you to become his companion on his journey. But you were also young, and the thought of being tied down to one spot, never truly seeing the world, also weighed down on you. It was easier to forget about your wish to explore as you lose yourself in your chores, lose yourself in books and lose yourself in your trade. Lorsan had brought that longing back to the forefront, the want to explore, the need to see sites that laid only in your wildest dreams.

It was all too conflicting for you. 

“...you know I can’t leave,” You muttered, eyes downcast. “This is my home.”

“I know,” Lorsan responded despondently. A pregnant pause followed, and you found yourself wanting to mend whatever had just broken. 

“Come back,” You stated, leaving no room for debate. Lorsan finally lifted his gaze to meet yours. “When you find whoever you need to, when you fix your land, come back.”

Lorsan felt his mind race. He hadn’t thought of coming back, he didn’t need to…not before at least. Would he even be able to come back? His position was high ranking, and he would be needed a lot more once he returned…but he also wanted to see you again. His eyes soaked in the determination in your gaze, how could he deny someone he found so breathtaking? 

“Okay,” He agreed, a small bittersweet smile overtaking him. “But only if you consider one of us going with the other.”

You felt your face warm, that was such a drastic decision, but you supposed you had time to think it over. Yet you still wanted to tease him slightly.

“Are you asking me to run away with you?” You teased, hiding your smile behind your hand. “We’ve only known each other for a day.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with it,” Lorsan stubbornly replied back, trying to hide how warm his face felt. You were right, after all. What business did he have asking you to leave everything behind for him? Because he felt strangely for you? He hardly counted that as a reason, but he still held hope, heart fluttering at the thought of you by his side. 

“Too bad there wasn’t a way we could stay in contact,” You sighed, standing up to clean the table. 

Lorsan’s ear twitched, eyes widening at his brilliant plan, of course it would take a bit of a toll on him, but for you, it was worth it, “I could contact you through the wind! You’ll just have to keep an ear out for my messages.”

Your eyes also widened, not having expected such a response, “I would be able to hear it?”

“You should,” Lorsan nodded excitedly, ears bouncing with the movements. “I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve been pretty good at all this Windwhisperer business from a young age.”

“Then I’ll look forward to the wind.”

That had been over a year ago. The time between Lorsan updating you had grown far and few in between. Your naiveness has dissipated. It was a wonderful fantasy while it lasted, but there were too many flaws in the plan. No matter what way you thought, a problem arose. There was no way you could sell your farm or animals, there was no way you could drop everything just for him. It was too extravagant an ask. And Lorsan couldn’t drop everything for you either. Yes, he may have always dreamed of the world beyond the dark forest, but he had a duty that held him back. That didn’t stop his chest from aching every time he was reminded of you. Farm animals were common on his journey, and he remembered how sweetly you smiled at him as you showed him your chickens. How he longed to stay with you. He didn’t want to be tied down, but was it really being tied down if you were by his side?

While you had given up, Lorsan was still pursuing his dream. He had finally managed to find someone that could dispel the corruption. Not to mention it was thee Merlin. He didn’t waste any time getting them on the first ship to the dark forest. It took more time than he’d like to clear everything. He had met his sister and old friends, but a part of him still felt like he was missing. He loved his people, he really did, but he would constantly strain his ears, listening to your soothing humming that the wind mercifully sent his way.

When everything was said and done, his Master Arden had noticed the gray haired man’s despondency. Lorsan had been given many tasks, not allowing him a moment’s respite. Not even being able to think of coming back to you like he had promised. That familiar feeling of the trees closing in on him returned. The comfort of the forest had become a prison once more.

“What’s troubling you,” Arden asked his pupil, wanting to alleviate his worries. 

Lorsan snapped out of his stupor, he had found himself trying to listen for you once more. “I met someone,” Lorsan explained, knowing better than trying to hide from his mentor. “But my duty lies here, in the dark forest.”

“A good whisperer should listen to not only the wind, but also to his own heart,” Arden responded wisely. “Need not worry about us, as our problems have been resolved.” Lorsan felt his breath hitch, hope overtaking him once more.

…

It has been a normal day for you. Waking up before the crack of dawn, barely taking care of yourself before going to the chicken coop. You put the eggs in your basket, the movements being nearly autonomous. Your days blended together, repeating the same motions over and over. The wind had become a low whistle like it had before, no longer carrying the words you once searched for. Your days have dulled once more. You were just a mere farmer after all.

“I wonder if there’s any food.”

You paused, not sure if you were just hearing things. If your monotonous days had finally broken you and you were hallucinating a reality that had once been real. Your head turned, albeit hesitantly, and your eyes widened at the familiar head of gray hair, green eyes, and bunny ears. You could never forget such a pretty face, nor the sheepish look that rested across it. 

“You’re back,” You stated, slight awe in your tone. You hadn’t really thought he’d ever come back.

“Of course I’m back,” Lorsan scoffed, crossing his arms. “I did promise you, didn’t I?” Your eyes soaked in his figure, noting the backpack that he carried and the slight grin on his lips.

“It’s just been awhile,” You replied, rubbing your arm nervously. “I thought you forgot.”

Lorsan’s jaw fell slack (somewhat comically might I add), “How could I ever forget someone like you!” You felt your heart jump. That feeling you thought you’d gotten over returned like nothing had ever happened, like you both hadn’t been separated for years.

Feeling a bit insecure, you couldn’t help but bring up what weighed on you, “You stopped sending messages.”

His ears drooped slightly in response, “I’m sorry about that. It takes a lot of energy for me to do that, and when I found someone that could help, I wanted them to help as quickly as possible so I could come back.” You truly felt silly. Of course he was busy, he was a hero after all.

“It’s alright,” You smiled, the ache wasn’t fully gone, but you understand. “You’re here now, aren’t you?” 

Lorsan perked up at that, a bright smile overtaking his features, “Yes! Do you remember the second half of our promise?” That was the part you were dreading. Telling him you couldn't move to the dark forest. You nodded, shifted back and forth on your feet.

“If it would be okay with you, I would like to move in.”

For the second time that day you felt yourself freeze. He…wanted to live with you? Didn’t he want to be with his friends? Didn’t he want to live where he grew up? Was he being serious?

“I-I mean it’s okay if you say no,” Lorsan fumbled, feeling his nerves consume him. “I understand, b-but I really enjoyed that day, and I wouldn’t mind helping you with your chores.”

You really shouldn’t say yes. Yes, you got to know him better through his messages, but he still didn’t know you all that well. Even though it had been years since that day, it felt like a rushed move, but his pretty green eyes had your resolve melting.

“Okay,” You agreed, a sheepish smile crawling over your lips. 

“Really?” Lorsan gasped, bouncing on his feet. 

“Yeah,” Your grin widened. “Just don’t cause too much trouble.”

[elkian]

I've seen a lot of takes about the Hbomb video - here's a link; he's also done some similar works criticizing Allen Wakefield (accidentally instigated the prime anti-vax movement while trying to scam people) and Tommy Tallerico (similar vein to The Video, of plagiarism/credit theft).

I've also enjoyed some of his teardown videos, but my real favorites are his Why FNV Is Genius (and Here's Why) and Pathologic Is Genius (And Here's Why), which lead me to buying and playing (some of) Pathologic 2.

One thing worthy of note is that he specifically requests that nobody start a witch hunt over the subjects of his videos. He is an opinionated person and his righteous indignation is very entertaining, but I've never seen him seriously suggest people harass any real human beings. Suggestions to do so after watching the video have been made by the viewers and are explicitly condemned by Hbomb himself in the video. Just saying.

But more to the point is how he ends the video: he decides to cap it off with a reel of suggested viewing for people who create the kinds of things Somerton allegedly made himself, focusing on queer creators.

Here's the playlist linked in the video description:

I don't doubt other people have shared this already, but it hasn't crossed my dash, so I thought I'd give it a mention. It's a really nice way to end a video that, while focusing on informing the viewers and warning people of potential scammers essentially, does have a negative tone at times because he is, well, tearing into someone's monumental career of plagiarism.

The playlist links to videos by Alexander Avila (who was himself plagiarized by Somerton), Matt Baume, Lady Emily, verilybitchie, RickiHirsh, Shanspeare, Khadija Mbowe, hazel, Herby Revolus, Maggie Mae Fish, Kaz Rowe, Kat Blaque, Lily Alexandre, max teeth, drapetomania, Kameno -o, Lola Sebastian, Princess Weekers, CJ The X, Jennie Geist, Mia Mulder, Nick DiRamio, Sarah Z, Rowan Ellis, and finally Maven of the Eventide.

(I have chosen to spare my wrists and sanity by not hyperlinking those names because the playlist is literally right there.)

Fun facts: this list, which apparently also has nonbinary and trans artists on it, contains 0 names I am already familiar with. I don't spend a lot of time on Youtube outside of very specific needs, but this still makes for a good opportunity for me to familiarize myself with work from others in the community.

Anyways, I just think that's an extremely cool way to end a four-hour-video that, while extremely entertaining, is a bit of a down to watch and realize how easily extremely unmotivated people are stealing others' work and making bank off of it. That's all I had to say, goodnight.

[1asbrightasthestars3]

One thing I particularly like about the heartbreak high gang is that everyone there hates each other but they're like a big group of friends. (SPOILERS!!)

Let me explain.

Season one (1) . we got the obvious groups, Dusty, Ant and spider,

Amarie, Darren and Quinni,

Sasha, Missy and Harper etc etc

Then we can clearly see everyone's hatred towards Amarie, Spider refusing to sell her tickets and humiliating her every chance he gets, Darren first makes fun of her, Harper hitting her and not talking to her, Sasha and Missy not speaking to her and bully her as well , yada yada yada

But you can still see the moments where they are all together with her, it starts with Darren helping her fix her bangs, then we have Ant not being really mean to her.. more disappointed about what she did and the way he got in trouble with his parents, we got Malakai "befriending" her despite everything that's going on, overall you can see how despite everyone hating her they do help her when needed, for example the time dusty made that rumor about her and JoJo, everyone teamed up and helped. Another example of that episode is Amarie going over to Ant while he's working out and just demands him to buy snacks and shit, no questions asked. (+Missy & spider teasing him about eating at all)

And it's not just with Amarie, Spider protects Ant, Harper joking around with him about Darren and their fling, Ant and Spider hyping Missy up, all of them calling each other nicknames which simply will not happen if they didn't like each other at all, it will all just be mockery.

It's all very friendly when you really think about it. It's less like a class and more like a Hugh group of friends who hate each other but will secretly do anything to protect each other.

We also see it in season two (2) . For example Ant kissing Malakai's cheek, congratulating him about his new relationship with Rowan or Darren supporting Malakai after coming out and helping him figure out his feelings for Rowan. And after they break up we can see Missy coming over to Malakai, helping him get over the breakup although they aren't really close. Or them dropping everything to help Quinni (while I can promise you if it was my class they would leave her there to rot)

In conclusion, they are all very important to each other's lives and I find that really beautiful because at the end they do help each other when needed and if we're being real that wouldn't have happened in real life.

(tell me I'm not the only one who sees that.)

[tomtenadia]

Check My Heart - 3

Hello all,

Here we are with another chapter and be prepared for a super sweet DadRowan...

MASTERLIST

A week had elapsed and on that morning in late August, Rowan was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for him and a lunch pack for his daughter. It was her first day of school and he needed it to be perfect. He had cleared his schedule for the morning and afternoon. 

The previous night she had been excited and together they had laid out the uniform and prepared the backpack. She had asked for a panda backpack but her pencil case, pencils and pens were all Hawks branded. He was going to buy her regular ones but Maya had wanted to flaunt her allegiances right from the beginning. He knew his daughter and was sure she was going to brag about him very soon and put in place anyone claiming Perranth was better. HE loved his daughter but would admit that she had spent far too much time surrounded by hockey players and for an almost 6 yers old she had very strong opinions already. 

His parents had convinced him to send her to a private school with great reputation and quite an interesting curriculum. He was nervous and prior to enrolment Rowan had requested a meeting with the headmaster to discuss his situation. Had to disclose that the mother was not in the picture and that his parents looked after Maya when he was away and also were the only people beside him to be allowed to pick up Maya from school. 

So far his daughter had lived in a sort of protected environment but now she was going out in the world and, although Elide had done a wonderful job at dealing with most speculation with regards to his marriage to Lyria, he was afraid that something might leak at the wrong time and reach his daughter.

Breakfast ready, he climbed upstairs and went in Maya’s room. His daughter was just getting off the bed, her elf light switched on “morning big girl.”

Maya ran to him for a hug which Rowan did not deny her “Are you excited about school?”

She spread her arm wide “this much.” Rowan kissed her and then both went back downstairs.

“I made you waffles.”

Maya smiled and tucked in as soon as the plate was in front of her.

“I spoke to Miss G and she knows you are starting school but you can have some training in the afternoon with her after school.”

“Can we go tonight, dad? I want to tell her about school.”

In the weeks since the day he had played on the ice with Aelin, he had met her almost every morning. He had started to teach her some basic hockey manoeuvres and in return she had tried to teach him figure skating. Suffice to say that it reminded him of when as a toddler he was learning to skate. But it had been fun. Neither ever mentioned their accidents and he was not sure if she knew about him but surely she was less grumpy with him.

“That we can do.”

“She is teaching me the tappo jump.”

“You need to show me.”

Maya smiled proudly and Rowan was looking forward to see his daughter on the ice.

*

When he arrived in front of the school he paused before switching off the car and pushed back the tears he felt pooling at his eyes. 

“Dada, school!” Maya was trying hard to unfasten her belt so he quickly jumped out of the car and went to her door “wait a second.”

Once his daughter was ready he grabbed the backpack, locked the car and together they walked to the main door. Maya was buzzing, Rowan was struggling to let her hand go.

Inside they were met by teachers and Rowan walked to the table to see where his daughter was heading to.

He had visited the school with Maya a while before and she loved it.

“Name?”

“Whitethorn,” he said quietly. Hockey was a big thing in Terrasen and he did not want any fans interrupting his moment with Maya. The woman at the desk smiled at him and then pointed to a specific room.

“Ready to see your class and meet your teacher?”

“Yes,” added Maya jumping up and down in excitement.

“Welcome,” said a woman with dark skin “My name is miss Falliq and I will be your teacher.”

“I am Maya and I love school.” The teacher kneeled and smiled “I am so glad.”

“Dada, I am at school.”

Rowan kneeled and hugged his daughter “I know baby and I am so proud.” A big kiss smacked on her cheek “and I love you so much.”

Maya returned the kiss “I love you too dad.”

Rowan all of a sudden could not pull back and let her go.

Then he took a deep breath and pulled back “I’ll pick you up after school and we are going skating okay?”

“Okay.”

Finally he stood and the teacher reassured him.

Rowan pulled back his cap and sneaked outside as quickly as possible. He hid in his car for a few minutes and fought the tears that threatened to spill. His girl was growing up fast and there was not a day in which he worried if he was doing a good job.

He was about to go back home but in the end he drove to the ice rink. Maybe some exercise would dull the ache of sending his daughter to school.

In the changing rooms he went for his lockers and wore a pair of training trousers and then his spare clean jersey. It felt strange to wear it again, with his fingers he brushed the C on the left hand-side then closed his eyes and pushed aside all the dark thoughts. 

As he walked along the tunnel he felt the soft notes of music filling the arena. He was positive it was Aelin and his step had an unexpected spring until he emerged out of the tunnel and froze. 

The usual pang of panic spreading through his body.

Rowan cursed. He had been feeling better recently and had no more panic attacks but now… he leaned against the wall and tried to control his breathing as his mother had coached him. She kept insisting that he had ptsd and maybe he should see a therapist but Rowan dismissed the theory every time. When he finally got his breathing under control he resumed his walk and emerged and spotted Aelin dancing at the rhythm of classical music. It was relaxing. While training with her they always kept the music on and he decided that it definitely did the trick. It had the power to keep him concentrated on the music and not on the ice.

He sneaked in and sat on the bench and studied her dance. She probably had spotted him but did not appear to be bothered by his presence. Aelin did a series of loops and jumps and he thought he recognised a Lutz. He had tried and learn more about the jumps and during their sessions he had managed to improve his single toe loop and a waltz jump, he still looked like a demented oaf but at least he was holding the landing now. 

He smiled and kept watching her. Aelin lifted her leg behind her, grabbing it with an hand and then he saw her body folding forward until it resembled a doughnut. She spun and he was mesmerised. 

Watching her skate was a thing of beauty. 

Rowan was quite familiar with some of the performances from when he was with Lyria but Aelin seemed on another level.

She was up straight again and skated in a wide oval to gather momentum, Rowan watched her get in position for a jump but as she was about to take flight he noticed the brief hesitation. That split second was all she needed. Her skate caught in the ice and went flying on the ice. Rowan in terror skated to her “Aelin,” panic in his voice.

“I am fine.” She snapped in a furious tone.

“What happened there?”

She was silent and turned her head away from him.

“Aelin?”

Silence.

“You were trying an axel.” He admitted as he had seen her preparing for a forward take off.

“I…” her hand went to her knee “I just missed the timing.”

Bullshit, he wanted to shout. He had watched a lot of her videos of her competitions and she never missed. She was amazing and all the accolades she had been attributed were deserved. All of a sudden he realised she was struggling just as much as him. 

“No, you didn’t.” He said softly and she looked up at him with a broken stare.

“I know…” he whispered and saw the surprise in her eyes “I saw the video.”

“You mean you saw me throw my career in the toilet.”

“It was a freak accident.”

Aelin scoffed hard “I landed a perfect triple axel and then what do I do? I fucking mess up with a Lutz?”

Rowan chuckled “well, it might be like us not scoring while on a 4 on 3 power play and an empty net.”

“You do realise I have no idea of what you just said?”

“We just need to teach you more hockey.”

They fell into silence and he sat at her side on the ice “want to know something cute?”

Aelin nodded.

“Maya started school.”

She squealed in delight “she told me that she was starting school, she was all excited.”

He lay down on the ice and could not care about the temperature.

“You seem sad.”

“No, I am happy, but it scares me at the same time.”

Aelin was about to ask something but Rowan stopped her and shook his head.

“Get up old man, show me some hockey.”

Rowan got up and went to the locker room and gathered some equipment and got back to the ice. He placed the net and the a few cones.

“You taught me some basic, now it’s my turn.”

He grabbed his stick and with experienced agility he zigzagged between the cones and scored.

“Do I need to cheer? What if I support the other team?”

“You really are a menace.”

Rowan huffed a laugh and continued “now, when you are handling the puck you need to protect it. Other players will try and steal it so they can score. To do that, you do this movement.” He placed the puck on the ice and showed Aelin the motions “see? You move it left and right and protect it using the blade as shield.” He finished skating and scored again “you try.”

He passed her the stick “This is huge.”

“That’s what she said.” He added with a smirk.

Aelin moved on the ice, her agility on the skates was perfect but he saw her struggle to control the puck that kept escaping.

Aelin screamed frustrated and Rowan moved closer. He pondered how close to get “Can I?” He asked, wary of personal space. When Aelin nodded he moved behind her and his hand covered her on the hilt. Slowly he moved their joined hands showing her the correct movements “Try now.” He pulled back quickly but the scent of lemon verbena still engulfed him. 

A scream of joy awoke him from his thoughts and he noticed Aelin skating among the cones with a far better control. She was a quick study. Of that he had no doubt.

When she scored Aelin celebrated with a loop and a jump and Rowan just stared at her mesmerised by that woman with fire in her veins.

“Well, you can join us next game.”

“No thanks, You brutes can have fun.”

Rowan stopped in front of her “now try and get to the net with me blocking you.”

Aelin grabbed the stick and concentrated in a fierce expression “I am ready.”

Although Rowan went easy on her she never moved much as he blocked at every single try.

“I give up.” She added throwing the stick on the ice “I don’t care about hockey anyway.” 

Rowan huffed a laugh “oh, the brute in me is hurt.”

Aelin was about to dismiss him when he stopped her “What’s a tappo jump?”

Her expression was one of curiosity “there is no such thing.”

“Maya said that she was learning the tappo jump.”

Then understanding dawned on her “the tap toe jump.” Quickly she demonstrated it to him “it’s one of the very basic jumps we teach, a fundamental,” Aelin did another jump but different “this is the bunny hop. Another basic jump.”

“Try the first one again.” She showed him and Rowan observed with interest.

A moment later he tried and crash landed on the ice. Aelin circled around him “All okay old man?”

“I haven’t fallen this much in a lifetime.”

Aelin nodded to his feet “your skates are not meant for this, you have no toe pick.”

“Oh, I have heard of that…”

“Good, now let me go back to my training before class comes in.” And with that she skated away leaving him on his own.

He chuckled to himself. It had been fun. Eventually Rowan went back to his training, allowing Aelin’s music to keep him focused. The team was getting back soon and he had to be prepared.

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[solplease]

i've been very excited to post this but here are my ocs haha!! meet lune, cecilia, nox, and aster!

close ups, more info, and a more detailed relationship chart under the cut! this is gonna be a long post haha. there's also some more info about rowan!

cecilia's twin (he's the older twin) ((by two minutes. lol))

the type to go “here to here, i’ll buy it all”

he's got a temper

possessive, devoted, and jealous yandere

people think he's a tad bit insane (and he's self aware mostly,,)

gets into fights often

“want me to kill that guy for you?” (he’s serious btw)

he’s not nice lmao, but to you he is (in his own special way of course..!)

kind of like a cat who will proudly leave dead rats and leaves on your doorstep as a gift bc it thinks you can’t hunt for yourself

hates nox LMFAO

difficult to approach at first but once you get close he won’t ever let you go.

extroverted

LOUD. someone shut him up, this mf does NOT stop yapping bro

annoying as hell and he doesn’t know that lmao

if he absolutely has to, he’ll behave. but it's... odd

constantly needs to be doing something or he’ll get bored lol

has a bit of a sweet tooth (typical)

Bastard (not literally)

played the piano when he was younger with his sister, but he hated playing it

bad terms with his family except for cecilia

huge rebellious streak

shockingly will not kidnap you! everyone already knows you’re his, and he’s yours. and he won’t let anyone get in between you two. yay..!

hates it when you don’t pay attention to him (will absolutely start sulking too)

he’s impulsive but he’s not completely reckless

you probs shouldn’t trust him too much though he has good (????) intentions lol

seems silly (debatable really) but he’s dangerous.

half of the things he says sound like jokes but trust me, he means it. he’d do anything and everything for you, don’t forget!

shockingly pouty and whiny, only in front of you though

him and cecilia have matching bracelets from when they were younger which they both wear to this day

he’s oblivious as fuck, and an idiot

lune's twin (she's younger)

normal (somewhat) ((not really))

sweet and friendly

really likes giving gifts to people she cares about

jumps to conclusion and freaks out easily, but she’s subtle about it

constantly stressed (lune is her brother, so… i get it)

introverted (runs on a social battery)

says things without thinking sometimes

people pleaser

awkward as hell tbh, but it’s really not obvious because she’s good at putting on a front 

kinda has the ”””””princely””””” persona (i didnt know how to describe that better lmao

has abandonment issues

girlfail tbh

hardworking

shes really protective of her loved ones

likes cute things

has issues with her family but still talks to them (lune does NOT)

on really good terms with lune, they’re very close (even though he’s a huge troublemaker that stresses the shit out of her) ((if he fucks around too much she’ll give him a good smack))

packs a good punch

SENSITIVE…

potential yandere? still not too sure if i’ll make her a fully fledged yan but she def has some of the traits lol

her and lune have matching bracelets from when they were younger! (she wears it everyday!)

she doesn’t mean to put on a front it just kinda happens automatically lmao

could kill someone... probably wouldnt tho

used to play the piano with lune, she still plays it now too (as a hobby)

cunning and annoying

def the type to kidnap you

oddly sweet (???)

but also ominous as hell

docile with the one he loves

isolating and manipulative yandere

dislikes lune

nice but you can tell he’s putting up a wall (with strangers and friends)

introverted

wouldn’t put stalking past him tbh

he’s the type that wants to know everything about you.

he has a tough time interacting with others. he feels awkward in social situations

the type to go to a party and spend the whole time petting the cat in the corner (he would not go to the party in the first place tho lmao)

he’s not misunderstood tho, he just can’t socialize and doesn’t really want to

grabs the end of your shirt in an awkward situation (its kinda cute)

takes time to open up, but when he falls for you, his love is so strong, it’s almost overwhelming. so just accept him, alright?

shittiest sleep schedule known to man, like srsly, what is bro doing

this man’s brain probs short circuits every 5 minutes LMFAO go to bed you idiot

really good with his words, very convincing

loves cats

hidden piercings

careful and patient

is really good at taking care of others (but he would only wanna take care of you) you’ll let him, won’t you?

startles easily lol

elf oc

ditzy and kind (to you)

bit of a mean streak (not to you!) 

wants to appear princely in front of you

kinda stupid (a farce but not completely lol)

has a bit of a temper, but nothing too bad

clingy and cunning yandere

two faced

struggles with empathy (he tries, he’s not human, what’s he supposed to do!)

extroverted (?)

he’s really lonely

when he met you for the first time he was absolutely fascinated as he’s never interacted with a human being before!

BLUNT. he’s not used to convos… just give him some time!

at first it was simple curiosity, but that curiosity turned into something… deeper

he was completely alone before this, but now you’re here, and you’re going to stay, right? 

is obsessed with the idea of you staying here with him forever, so why do you keep talking about going home? can’t you stay here? 

but then you bring up the idea of him coming with you, well why didn’t you say that earlier! he's happy to come with you

It takes him some time to grasp certain concepts so please be patient with him, he’s not used to humans

he’s paranoid and hostile to other humans. it’s not fair, he wants all of your attention, so why is everyone trying to take you from him? he doesn’t like that everyone is getting in his way… 

he’s terrified of bugs. will scream incredibly loudly if he sees one lol

he pulled you through a mirror, that’s how you ended up in his land

so if you wanna go back, just ask and he’ll take you! 

gives you jewelry, expensive jewelry. (maybe he’s slipped on a ring before. haha. jk… unless..?)

prefers to stay inside your place because he really doesn’t like people who aren’t you lmao

don’t stray too far from him, okay? he’s always waiting for you

rowan (who i don't have a new drawing of rn </3 sorry!):

he absolutely hates not being a priority, so please don’t ignore him. please? he just wants you to love him.

clingy, devoted, and obsessive yandere

if you don’t reciprocate he might (unknowingly) try to guilt you into liking him back. will appear like a kicked puppy to really sell it (but it’s not an act lol he’s just like this)

at least his intentions are pure! (?????????) but is that better..?

if when (it will happen) you two end up together, he’ll give you the world if you’d asked for it

used to cut his own hair! :D (not great at it tho tbh)

very attentive and will work hard to keep you happy! just don’t forget that you’ll love only each other for the rest of your life. please don’t leave.

has tripped over nothing, will definitely happen again

here's the shitty relationship chart that i rushed </3 its very ugly im sorry HAHA

i really want to clarify that NONE of them will ever hurt you physically on purpose (they might have to pay up for emotional damages tho. they have your best interest in mind ig)

also i would say that they all share some traits like being clingy, devoted, possessive, obsessive, jealous, protective, and loyal. but if i specifically wrote it, it's probs just a bit more intense... just a bit,,, haha...

[mariaofdoranelle]

The Toilet Theft

Written for @throneofglassmicrofics, prompt ‘Thief’

HAPPY SUPER LATE BIRTHDAY FOR AELIN!

Sorry about the delay for this one!

Words: 816

Warnings: unforgivable crimes (a small theft)

For Aelin’s birthday, the last thing she expected was to wake up to an empty bed.

Empty bed, empty shower, empty kitchen—an empty apartment overall, Aelin noticed as she looked for him. Not her ideal birthday morning, but Rowan must’ve had a good reason to leave her stranded like this.

He did leave some special breakfast with a cute note, so that’s what she focused on when her boss called.

“Salvaterre,” she greeted. “Do you miss me already?”

Just a joke to tease her grumpy superior, but work only started in 40 minutes.

“Galathynius.” A sigh that came from deep within his bones. “Can you explain why there’s a pharaonic toilet paper pyramid sitting on your desk?”

403 days before

The only bad thing about celebrating new jobs after being penniless is that sometimes you forget to schedule it for after pay day—which was exactly what Aelin did when she arranged drinks with Lysandra at a fancy bar in an hour.

But there’s a solution for every problem, Aelin realized as she ate dinner—free cookies from the break room. It was a lot more than the socially acceptable amount so it could constitute as ‘dinner’, but the jar would be refilled in the morning, and no one was there to see her rude misuse of that office perk. At this hour, the closest people to her were her new bosshole and Hot IT Guy, in a late meeting two doors down.

Back to her issue, Aelin opened the groceries list on the phone and decided what she could buy after her pay day and what she would get from her parents’ house soon. After all rearrangements were made, there was only one urgent thing left.

Toilet paper.

The only inescapable item she couldn’t wait until groceries at her parents’ or pay day.

Her eyes immediately slid to the toilet adjoined to the break room. At this late hour. When maintenance would be back in the morning.

No one has to know.

Before giving herself time to give up, Aelin locked herself in the bathroom and opened the little storage cabinet under the sink. The two rolls of toilet paper she picked barely fit inside her work tote bag, but her coat did a great job of covering the stuffed purse, since closing the zipper wasn’t an option anymore.

She unlocked the door, ready to leave, and noticed that Hot IT Guy was now in the break room, holding a dark green mug.

“Long day, huh?” He said, without his usual scowl for what might be the first time since Aelin first saw him.

A polite smile. “Sure.” Aelin readjusted her overstuffed bag so it wouldn’t be too visible to him. “Have a nice evening.”

“I—“ He interrupted her walk out of the break room. Swallowed. Put his mug down. “May I walk you to your car?”

Oh, for Mala’s sake.

356 days per year, and the hottest guy in the office decided to hit on Aelin the day she was committing theft.

“Of course,” she answered with a smile, because if anyone could pull off stealing and flirting at the same time, it was her.

With one arm slung over her purse as a safety measure, they made small talk in their way out of the office, and Rowan, as she had just found out, only got more attractive as he spoke, as rare feat for guys on their twenties.

A few steps into the open parking lot, Aelin was met with a chill breeze that made her entire body shiver, which didn’t go unnoticed by oh-so-attentive Rowan.

“It’s supposed to be spring by now, I’ll never get Orynth’s crazy weather.” A huff. “You should put your coat on.”

Aelin plastered on a too-fake smile. “No need, thanks.”

“No, I insist—“

When Rowan tugged on the coat on the top of her purse, both of them froze as one single roll of toilet paper broke loose, rolling down the floor and leaving a white trail on its path to freedom.

Present time

The staring part wasn’t exactly embarrassing for Aelin, but she understood her boss—it really was a disturbance, a three-dimensional, pharaonic kind of toilet paper pyramid taking over the entirety of her cubicle’s desk.

The pyramid was as wide as it was tall, and Aelin realized that someone really tall must’ve made that birthday surprise for her. Someone tall, who got up distinctively early to prepare this stunt, and who also knew both about her toilet paper incident and her birthday today.

Honestly, the Happy birthday —B card by the pyramid was an insult to her intelligence. That fucking Buzzard.

Aelin walked past several cubicles until she found Rowan’s desk, then silently crossed her arms before him, her questioning expression enough to prompt him.

Rowan put his dark green mug down and gave her a smile warm enough to shock their coworkers.

“Happy birthday, Fireheart.”

You can get notified when I update by either turning notifications on for @mariaofdoranelle-fics or entering my (sometimes glitchy) tag list!!

TAG LIST

I couldn’t tag the people in bold, sorry!

@aelinchocolatelover

@autumnbabylon

@bookcide

@booksandteaonarainydayislife

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@courtofjurdan

@dreamer-133

@elentiyawhitethorn

@elizarikaallen

@emily-gsh

@empress-ofbloodshed

@fangirlprincess09

@goddess-aelin

@gracie-rosee

@leiawritesstories

@lululululululuop

@renxzs

@rowanaelinn

@s-uppertime

@sarahjswift

@staghorn-mountains

@superspiritfestival

@swankii-art-teacher

@thegreyj

@throneofus7

@violet-mermaid7

@wishfulimaginings

[montammil]

June of Doom Day 1 - "Help me."

| Failed Escape | On the Run | Fetal Position |

Catching up on June of Doom as much as I can haha. Next one I think I'll do is CCE, but for now, here's some Rowan/Sawyer content.

Sorry it's shorter than most of my works, haven't been feeling too motivated but I've been forcing myself to get there haha.

CW: Implied drugging, failed escape, intimate/yandere whumper, implied trauma, noncon touching (not sexual), concussions, slight gore

...

It had been three months since Sawyer managed to escape from Rowan. Those three months felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest, yet was still somehow more stressful than being in his kidnapper's grasp. He was glad to have freedom again, but terrified every time he went outside. Hell, even when he was inside his shitty motel room he was scared that Rowan would be somehow in his walls.

The fear made it so difficult to do things as simple as getting groceries and going to the laundromat.

There were so many people outside, everywhere. Rowan could blend in with them no problem, and then get Sawyer alone and take him back to his own personal hell.

But... there had been no signs of Rowan ever since Sawyer got out. There hadn't been any flowers on his doorstep, no messages on his phone, no emails to his old Indigo work account.

That was probably because Rowan had no idea where he was (hopefully) and Sawyer was now confined to using a cheap flip phone instead of his smartphone that Rowan had broke.

Sawyer tried not to think about Rowan. He tried to focus on the here and now, and the here and now was buying a few bags of chips at the gas station.

He did his best not to look over his shoulder the entire time he shopped. Every little sound made him jump. People chatting quietly with each other. The cashier running change for another customer. Someone opening the glass freezer door across the room.

Fuck, everything freaked him out nowadays. But he needed to get groceries sooner rather than later. His room had only a microwave and a mini fridge in it, so if he didn't want to go hungry tonight he needed food. He wanted nothing more than to buy a pack of cigarettes, but he couldn't even do that with his little money and lack of ID.

He set down the items he bought onto the counter and waited for the cashier to ring him up. Each moment felt like an hour.

"That'll be $8.36."

"Thanks," Sawyer said, fishing through his pockets. He took out some crumbled bills and counted them out, then dropped the money into the man's open palm. "Keep the change." He needed the money, but he also needed to get out of here asap.

The cashier thanked him. As soon as Sawyer got his change back he left. He went outside with his bagged goods, thankful for the cool breeze outside.

It was already dark outside and he only had the light of the streetlamps to guide him back to his motel room.

It was cold tonight, almost freezing. He should've gotten a jacket from the store, but he'd be fine without one. If he froze to death that would be preferable to going back to Rowan.

Breathing in the crisp air helped him feel a little better, less like he was suffocating under the stress of being outside. At this rate, he was going outside even less than when he was in captivity.

He thought a car was about to pass him, but when it started to slow down by the curb Sawyer's heart nearly stopped.

The car... looked exactly like Rowan's.

Rowan had found him.

No no no no no no no no no no no...

His blood turned to ice and his stomach twisted into knots. All he could manage to do was take a few steps back, dropping his bags of food. The car door opened, and out stepped Rowan. His hair was messier than usual and he wore all black clothing, which was a stark contrast to the cozy wool sweaters and dress shirts that Sawyer was used to seeing him in.

Sawyer didn't waste a second on standing around in shock. He immediately bolted off running in the alleyway right behind him. His lungs were already burning but he couldn't let that stop him. He could hear Rowan call his name from far behind, echoing off the walls.

"Help me!" Sawyer shrieked, running faster than he ever had before. "Someone help me, please! Help-!"

His words were cut short when he ran face first into a brick wall. He blamed the poor lighting for his misstep, and the throbbing pain in his head kept him from getting up as fast as he wanted to.

Rowan slowed down. He was cornered, so he curled up into a ball in an attempt to make himself seem smaller. Maybe it would work. Maybe if he tried hard enough he would just disappear.

"Sawyer," Rowan breathed out, clearly exhausted. Sawyer wasn't sure what happened between the kidnapping and now, but it looked like he had gone through some shit too.

But whatever happened to him wasn't Sawyer's concern. This was his kidnapper, his tormentor, the man who abused him for months. He wasn't going to pity him.

Rowan collapsed on his knees, then pulled Sawyer close to him. It felt strange being so close to someone again; it made Sawyer feel dirty.

Even with the awkward position, Rowan was so much stronger than Sawyer. There was no way he was breaking free of his grip any time soon.

"I missed you so much..." Rowan muttered against Sawyer's hair, squeezing him tighter. "So so so much." His hot breath made Sawyer turn his face away. He was desperate to escape this, any of it. Rowan flashed a knife in his direction, and that was all it took for Sawyer to stop squirming.

The last thing he needed was another injury from his deranged stalker.

Rowan tutted, examining the side of his head with his free hand. "Oh, poor thing. I bet that hurt. But don't worry," he cooed, kissing his forehead. "I'm going to take care of you. That's why you did all of this right? You just wanted me to pay more attention to you." A dark chuckle escaped his throat. "Well, you'll get it, don't you worry."

Next thing Sawyer knew, Rowan had tucked the knife away somewhere in his coat, then forced him to his feet.

Sawyer was sure he was concussed and most likely had a broken nose, so his balance was compromised. But as always, Rowan managed to keep him upright.

He steered them out of the alley and to his car. He contemplated putting him in the trunk, but settled for the backseat instead, since it looked like his beloved wouldn't be awake for much longer.

"You can relax, my dear." Rowan kissed his bloody nose. Sawyer didn't even have the awareness to be disgusted. "Since the typical punishments aren't working on you, I think I've worked up a new solution. You're not allergic to ketamine, are you?"

[shyvioletcat]

Rowaelin Month Day 2: Idiots in Love

When I think of idiots in loveI really do think of this au. And the idiocy really comes out in this. If you remember that fic idea I floated about not writing but then decided to write anyway *wink* it’s this one. CW: smut

~~~~~

Rowan reclined in Aelin’s bed, reading over the latest email Fenrys had sent him. His newest book was days away from being on the shelves and that meant the promotional bullshit was about to pick up in a big way. First and foremost was the book tour Rowan was leaving for in three days. There was a list full of times, flights and locations Rowan needed to be aware of. He’d handed over all the social media stuff for pre-release, knowing it was essential for good sales and all that, but besides a few prerecorded reels Rowan wasn’t a keen participant. Book tours were another beast entirely, in person he’d have no choice but to interact. It would be all kinds of exhausting.

For a good few months he would be touring cities across continents, talking about and signing his books. It was starting locally but then he’d be flying to Rifthold, then over to Wendlyn. He had never liked the public side of things, but for the sake of his success he suffered through it. Conventions had been fine because it usually came with a few rounds of verbal sparring with Aelin—which was always a highlight. The travel and time away had always been a non-issue, Rowan had never been overly attached to one place. Because previously he’d been single and unhappy, and the change in scenery had offered him mild excitement. This time was different. This time he was leaving Aelin behind.

Aelin had her own schedule to keep. She was in the thick of writing her next novel and her turn-in deadline was approaching. The best she could do was visit him for a weekend here and there. Other than that they were spending most of the next three months apart. Rowan hated that, he was so in love with her, and borderline obsessed in the most healthy way. Even a few days away from her was hard as it is. The prospect of it being months was torture.

The source of his travelling anguish appeared in the doorway, hands behind her back and a scheming look on her face. Aelin was dressed in one of his shirts, her new favourite attire, but he noted that she’d done her hair and makeup. Odd, because they had no plans on going out today. She already had a collection of shirts in her drawers but always seemed to take another when she visited his townhouse. Rowan might have to buy more before he left on his trip because he didn’t like his chances of getting them back.

“What are you up to?” He asked, discarding his phone on the bed.

Aelin’s smile turned a little more wicked and she took a step into her bedroom, rocking playfully on her feet. “I’ve had an idea.”

”Yeah?” Rowan asked cautiously. There was something afoot here, and he had no idea what it was.

“I’ll miss you while you’re gone.” Another step. “I think I’ve found something to ease the pain of it.”

Rowan hesitated as he tried to figure out what it might be—he came up blank. “How so?”

Biting her lip Aelin presented her prize from behind her back. It was a cylinder and Rowan tilted his head to read the writing along the label. His stomach dropped when the words registered in his brain.

Clone-a-Willy.

“No.” The protest came out immediately.

Aelin’s face fell in disappointment. “Why not?”

“I am not putting my—” the thought was abhorrent. “I’m not putting myself in that.”

“You don’t even know how it works,” Aelin whined, sitting on the foot of the bed.

“I don’t need to know, I can guess and it can’t be good,” Rowan said.

Aelin sighed, rolling the abomination over her palms. “Come on, Rowan. I read a bunch of reviews and it doesn’t seem that bad. Please, for me. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m still very sceptical and not willing,” Rowan hedged.

His ever persistent girlfriend only sighed, yanked the lid off the tube with a pop, and tipped contents out onto the bed. There were two tubs of something—one bright green—a thing that looked like a tube of lipstick, a thermometer, a small wooden stick and some kind of cloth. Aelin picked up the folded booklet which was no doubt the instructions, glancing through them before handing them over.

“See, nothing to it,” she assured him.

Shooting her a disbelieving glare he took the instructions and started reading. Aelin might be confident, but Rowan was not. With each line he read that little scrap of confidence hidden somewhere inside him dissipated a little more.

Measure and cut the tube, mix the mould solution, stick penis into the tube, wait at least two minutes before removing.

“Aelin—”

“I’m begging you, Rowan,” Aelin interrupted, giving him her best doe-eyed expression. “I promise to make your cooperation worthwhile.”

He looked at his girlfriend’s face and the myriad of sinful things she promised there. Two minutes. He would suffer for two minutes and then who knew what his rewards might be. Rowan was considering it, and Aelin was quick to swoop in when she saw him wavering.

“It’ll be fun,” she said cheerfully, then rectified when he shot her a look full of doubt. “I mean, it’ll be something fun for me. Keep you in my thoughts while you’re away.”

Rowan scoffed. “When you put it that way.”

Aelin patted his arm. “Just remember, lots of rewards for you.”

She played dirty, climbing over him, encouraging him to lie back and kissing him. It was a heady and dirty kind of kiss, full of salacious promises. She pressed her body against him, grinding on his lap while her tongue flicked at the inside of his mouth. Rowan was already half hard when she pulled back.

“Please,” she whispered, kissing him again.

Rowan’s hands were tight on her hips, his head dropping back as he groaned. He always found it so hard to deny her. “Fine.”

Aelin sat up, squealing as she clapped her hands in utter delight. A moment later she was off him and dashing out the bedroom door. He heard the thudding of footsteps and a cupboard opening, and then Aelin was back, a towel and a bowl in her hands.

“First reward you get right now.”

Rowan was about to ask what it was when Aelin simply grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over her head. Underneath she wore a golden lacy lingerie set.

“This wasn’t a spur of the moment thing, then?” Rowan said, eyes roving, taking in every detail. “And you knew I’d say yes.”

“When do you ever say no?” Aelin stated matter of factly, adding her new supplies to the pile and kneeling on the bed. “All right loverboy, clothes off.”

Arguing would get him nowhere, so he did as he was commanded. Shirt first, and then his sweatpants. When he was done, Aelin threw the towel over to him.

“Put this under you, don’t want to ruin my bedding,” she explained. “That one is covered in bleach stains, I don’t mind the sacrifice.”

Aelin picked up the instructions again, and while she read Rowan took the opportunity to enjoy the view. The rich gold of the set was a lovely contrast against the sun kissed tan of her skin. The briefs sat high on her hips, all lace except for a satin panel at the front. The bra had two thin decorative straps that ran over the top of her cleavage, meeting in the middle. It was longer and covered more of her torso than some of her other pieces, but it was just as sexy. He couldn���t wait to get his hands on her—or his lips. The best he could do right now was resting a hand on her thigh, drawing idle patterns while she concentrated. When she shivered it took a lot of restraint not to take it further up her thigh.

“Step one, we need to trim the tube,” Aelin declared.

“Please tell me that’s not a euphemism,” Rowan muttered, rubbing a hand over his face and those nerves started to return.

Aelin snorted, but then picked up the clear tube that everything in the kit had come in. “No, we need to make sure this is the right size and you need to be hard. Do you want to do the honours, or shall I?”

Never one to miss the opportunity to have his girlfriend’s hands on him, Rowan chose the latter. “You.”

The makeout and seeing Aelin in her new get up still had him half hard. It wouldn’t take much for him to get all the way there. Aelin smiled, crawling back over him. Her hands tickled up his thighs, not deterring from their goal though. Rowan held his breath as her hand closed around him, pumping slowly. Aelin’s tits looked amazing from this angle, hanging heavy against the lace. Unable to keep from touching her, Rowan’s hand made its own journey, starting at her ass, heavy with enough pressure to have her body bowing closer to him. His fingers threaded in her loose hair, urging her down for a kiss. All the while she kept pumping him, his cock thickening with every pass.

“Feels so fucking good,” Rowan groaned.

“You there?” Aelin whispered onto his lips.

When Rowan nodded she was gone a second later, that godsdamned instructions back in her hand. Then she picked up the tube and a marker and held it next to his hard cock. Marking a line she then cut it with a pair of scissors that game from gods knew where. She really had come prepared. Aelin nodded at her handiwork and smiled to herself. Then she was up, ready to take on the next step.

“Time for the mould that I’ll mix in the bathroom. And put this on.” This time it was a little tub that Aelin threw at him, beige with a blue lid. “It will stop any hair getting, ah… caught.”

“What?” Rowan spluttered, but Aelin was already gone.

She was headed into the bathroom, bowl and a few pieces from the kit in hand, and that gave Rowan a chance to admire the outfit from behind. Turns out it wasn’t a full thong, triangles of lace hugged the curve of her ass. And he had thought it couldn’t get any better. Rowan heard the water start running and guessed he should do his part. He pulled the lid off the tub of Vaseline and smoothed a decent amount over and around his erection. Only a few minutes later Aelin was out of the bathroom, the tube full of the moulding liquid.

“Sit up and let’s do this,” she said with determined excitement.

Rowan sat up, making sure to keep the towel under him. Aelin was eager as anything as she stood in front of him. “First, this.” She rolled a rubber cock ring down the length of him. “I read that it lessens the mess.”

“Did your research, did you?” His voice was tight as Aelin played with him once she was done.

“Absolutely. These are high stakes. You ready for the fun part?” She ended her question with a squeeze.

Rowan groaned. “I think you and I have a different definition of fun.”

“Don’t be a baby, you’ve come this far,” Aelin said, hiding her amusement very poorly.

“So, what? I just stick it in?”

She nodded. “That’s what the instructions say. Ready?”

It was now or never. Aelin pumped him again, just to help him recover while they had their discussion. Rowan was feeling nervous, and to give him some resolve he looked over Aelin again, reminding himself that he just needed to last two minutes and then the real fun could begin.

Closing his eyes, Rowan bit the bullet. “Just do it.”

Any hesitancy Rowan felt, Aelin outweighed it by ten fold with her resolve. She went for it, taking his dick in her hand and angling it right before sliding him in. It was cold and slimy, and felt disgusting. But he just kept sliding in until the end of the tube met the cock ring.

“Set timer, two minutes,” Aelin said.

Opening his eyes Rowan saw her drop the phone on the bed. Aelin was smiling like she was having the best time, curious eyes watching the tube that was encasing his dick. Contemplating that had him visibly cringing.

“No! You have to stay hard or this won’t work,” Aelin said in a panic, no doubt seeing the look on his face. “What can I do?”

Rowan’s brain scrambled for a second, trying to find something. “Talk to me, touch me. The best you can anyway.”

“It’s so fucking hot you doing this for me,” Aelin said, her voice sultry, not wasting any time and cutting right to the chase. “I love your cock so much, I know it won’t be anything like the real thing though.”

It was working, but he needed more. An idea struck him and he took hold of the tube. “I got this, you get up here.”

He lay back and it took a second for Aelin to catch on to what he meant. She crawled up the bed, her knees resting above Rowan’s shoulders. As Aelin used the headboard to hover over his face, Rowan used his free hand to pull her underwear to the side, baring her sex.

“Keep talking, Aelin. Tell me what you’re going to do while I’m away and you’re here without me,” Rowan said, then he was on her.

Aelin moaned loudly as his tongue played with her clit, her hips dropping lower. That sound was enough to have his mind ignoring the discomfort around his dick, so he did it again, and again, just to hear how much Aelin loved what he was doing. Rowan hummed, and that had Aelin gasping, hips rolling over his mouth.

Pressing a chaste kiss to where she was most sensitive Rowan said, “I can’t hear you Aelin.”

“Fuck, Rowan,” she sighed. “I’ll use it every night, thinking of you.”

Rowan hummed again, encouragingly, urging her to keep going.

“I’ll think of you, how big you are,” each word was laboured, like it was a struggle to get the words out and keep her mind straight. “How perfect you feel inside me.”

“More, Aelin,” Rowan growled on her clit,

The moan of pleasure Aelin let out told Rowan she was close to breaking. Having her ride his face was utterly distracting and his sole goal now was to make her come. A beeping went off—Aelin’s phone—but there was no way he was stopping now.

“I’ll fuck myself with it,” Aelin manged through her heavy panting, her voice shaking and much as her body was. “Just like you do, so deep. It won’t feel as perfect as you, but I’ll be thinking of you every second.”

Rowan sucked, then rolled his tongue over that bundle over nerves and that was all it took. Aelin’s moan was closer to a scream, her hips undulating with each pulsing wave of her orgasm. Rowan kept up his ministrations until Aelin all but fell away from him, a panting mess on the bed beside him. Through heavy lidded eyes, she glanced at him, and a second later she was rolling over and kissing him. Aelin hummed as Rowan ran his hands over her body until her brain cleared enough that she stopped her phone beeping.

“That was certainly one way to pass the time,” she said playfully. “Should we see how our little experiment went?”

Rowan snorted, his attention redirected to the particularly uncomfortable situation he was experiencing. “I wouldn’t call it little.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Aelin replied as she straddled his thighs.

That made Rowan laugh, laying back on the bed so Aelin could get this done with and he’d be free. He’d done his part, gone along with his girlfriend’s whim and suffered through the discomfort. Now he was ready for it to be over. He felt a tug on his dick, not one that felt particularly great. Then another one. On the third the mould still wasn’t budging. Rowan raised his head a fraction and looked down to see Aelin peering at the white filled tube sticking straight up in the air.

“What?”

Aelin cleared her throat, looking no less beautiful in her get up as she bit her lip. “It’s stuck.”

Immediately Rowan reached down and gave it a tug himself. Oh fucking gods it did not move. Rowan’s heart was pounding and he was sweating. This was not happening.

“This was a stupid idea,” Rowan said. He twisted the mould but the only thing he succeeded in was hurting himself. “Did we leave it on for too long?”

“You’re fine, you big baby.” Aelin was trying to play it off but he could still hear the slight nervousness to her tone.

“You should have got a bigger size,” Rowan all but groaned.

There was an ill disguised snort from Aelin. “This was the biggest size.”

Despair was taking him. This was what hell was like.

Meanwhile, Aelin was trying again, and his dick—the stupid appendage that it was—couldn’t figure out that this was not the time to be getting turned on by her touch. It didn’t help that she looked like a literal goddess kneeling over him.

“Stop touching it, you’re making it worse!”

This time Aelin outright laughed. “I never thought I’d hear those words.”

Rowan rubbed his hands over his face. “Aelin, please. I was doing this for you and now neither of us will have my dick.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Aelin said, and for some unknown reason thought it was a good idea to rub a soothing hand over his stomach. His traitorous dick twitched in response, the weight of the godsdamned mould a strange sensation.

“You’ve ruined it, it’s useless,” Rowan bemoaned.

“I stand by my previous statement,” Aelin said. When Rowan raised his head up enough to shoot her a baleful glare she lifted her hands in surrender. “I’ll leave you, I can see my presence is not helping.”

Rowan closed his eyes and felt the bed dip as Aelin left. With the reason for his current predicament gone, Rowan turned his thoughts to the unsexiest things he could conjure up. Getting stuck in traffic, the smell of overripe bananas, that time Lorcan got an infection in his big toenail. Rowan pictured all those things and tried to keep his breathing calm. He needed the adrenaline rush to wear off, not just from his panic but from giving Aelin head. That was the wrong thought to stray to, now Rowan had to think of even more gross things.

It took a while but his heart beat started to slow and he wasn’t sweating anymore. Rowan had never felt such immense relief when he felt the weight of the plaster filled tube dip as his dick finally decided to syphon off some of the blood flow. As soon as it fully landed on his stomach Rowan went to pull it off. There was some residence, but with some slight twisting he was free.

“Thank you Mala,” Rowan sighed in relief.

Curiosity got the better of him and he looked inside. He couldn’t particularly see much except a dick shaped hole. The temptation to throw it across the room was strong, just for the spite of it. Rowan really had seen his life flash before his eyes.

“Still in one piece, I see.”

Aelin had appeared in the doorway, her gold clad body leaning on the frame, like nothing had gone amiss.

“You owe me,” Rowan said, dropping the cloning mould on the bed. He’d be happy to never see it again.

With a grin Aelin retrieved it. “We’re established that. Go have a shower and I’ll finish this off.”

Rowan wasn’t going to argue with that. He left Aelin to do whatever the next heinous step was and went into the ensuite. This shower was much nicer than his and the taps rotated so much smoother. It wasn’t long before he found the perfect temperature and stepped under, letting the pounding water pressure Aelin was so proud of wash away any remnants feelings of his discomfort.

The shower did him good—Rowan cooled down in more ways than one. After getting over the shock of getting his dick stuck in a plastic tube he could see the merit in Aelin’s plan, for her at least. He’d be gone for months and she would be alone while she wrote. It was unlikely that they would get much time to see each other in person. It would be phone calls and video chats. Rowan wouldn’t be touching her body, wouldn’t be able to feel her. Gods knew it would be torture. Could he blame her for taking a more creative initiative?

Rowan turned the water off, not wanting to waste any more of the limited time he had left with Aelin before he had to leave. Dressed in nothing but a towel, he found Aelin lounging in bed, still wearing that set that had kept him hard through his ordeal. All evidence of the cloning fiasco was gone, something he was very glad of. Aelin looked stunning, that self satisfied smirk only enhancing her already beautiful face. She was a menace, but she was his menace.

Already Rowan’s body was reacting, he could feel the fabric of the towel brushing against his cock as it hardened. It took a moment for Aelin to notice him, her eyes drinking in the expanse of his bare chest.

She sat up, leaning on one hand so her golden hair cascading over her shoulder. “Am I forgiven yet?”

Rowan untucked the towel and let it fall away, watching as Aelin’s eyes flared with desire. He crawled over to her, Aelin drifting towards the bed as crept up her body. She was waiting for him to take what he needed, so patient even though Rowan knew she wanted this just as much as he did.

“I have a feeling I will be,” Rowan said, voice low and he loved seeing the way his words made Aelin shiver.

In the end, Rowan decided that he had suffered enough today and he wasn’t going to prolong it any further. His hand started on Aelin’s neck, then traced a path lower, covering her breast before it tightened there. Aelin’s mouth opened on a silent moan, her body arching towards him. Rowan dropped his mouth to her other breast, teasing her through the fabric. Aelin sighed, her hands tight in his hair.

Any other time Rowan might have drawn this out—played Aelin’s body perfectly until she was sighing his name over and over again. But today, Rowan found he didn’t have the patience. He reached under Aelin’s body and unclasped her bra, then he was helping her out of his underwear.

“Roll over for me, Aelin,” he said onto the skin right over her heart.

With a coy smile, Aelin did as he requested. Rowan ran a hand down the length of her back, and then up, brushing golden tresses out of the way. Then he lent over Aelin's body, kissing her shoulder and neck, teeth grazing as he went.

“Are you ready for me?”

Aelin nodded but Rowan decided to investigate for himself. Dragging his hand between her body and the sheets, he touched his way down until his thumb brushed over Aelin’s clit. She moaned, her hands fisting in the sheets. Just going a little bit lower Rowan found the evidence he sought.

“You are. Aren’t you,” Rowan growled, a finger dipping inside. “So wet, so ready to take me.”

“Oh, fuck. Rowan.” Aelin all but moaned his name. “Yes, gods yes.”

Just for a few indulgent moments Rowan teased, easing in out, applying pressure to places that had Aelin gasping. His cock twitched with every sound, getting almost painfully hard. That didn't seem fair after everything Rowan had been through in the last half hour, and Aelin seemed to think so too. She reached under the pillow in front of her and held up the condom between two fingers.

No hesitation and it was only moments before Rowan was ready and lining himself up. Aelin was eager, bracing herself on her elbows and pressing back.

“Come on, Rowan. I know you want to,” Aelin taunted, her voice husky, betraying how far gone she was.

“Anything for you,” Rowan promised and slid in.

Their moans filled the room as Rowan sank as far as he could go. He had one on her hip and the other was at the base of Aelin’s neck, tangling in her hair. After that it was too easy to fall into the rhythm that he knew would have them desperate for release. With each flex of his hips he could feel Aelin coiling tighter and tighter, every moan sharp and wanton. Rowan wasn’t quiet either, groaning as he felt her inner wall flutter around him, begging him for more. And Rowan gave it, he kept going until Aelin was screaming his name, her body going taught before she came, her hips dragging her over his cock relentlessly enough that it had him following right after.

Aelin went limp once they stilled, falling to the mattress completely when Rowan pulled out. He dealt with the condom and was back moments later, pulling Aelin into his arms. She sighed as she settled on his chest and Rowan kissed her head.

“I’m going to miss you,” she said sadly. “My home will be lonely without you.”

Rowan was quiet for a moment, a thought weaving through his mind. He was hesitant to voice it, but the longer he thought about it, the more it made sense.

“What if it doesn’t have to be?”

Aelin propped herself up so she could look at him, expression confused. “What?”

“What I mean is,” Rowan reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind Aelin’s ear. “How about when I get back, I move in.”

“You mean it?” Aelin asked, eyes bright.

“I mean yeah, unless you want to move into my place,” Rowan shrugged.

Aelin lent her cheek on his chest, her smile beaming up at him. “Nah, my place is better. But you can definitely bring your library ladder though.”

Rowan laughed and lent down to kiss his wickedly funny girlfriend. She met him halfway, her hand cradling his cheek.

“If we learnt anything from today,” Rowan said, pulling back just enough so their lips still brushed. “Your wish is my command.”

~~~~~

I laughed so hard reading this one. Thanks for reading!

Tagging @rowaelinscourt

[danikamariewrites]

Can i request a Rowan ddlg headcanon pls

Rowan x reader ddlg headcanon

A/n: I never thought of Rowan in a relationship like this but then I realized he would take such good care of you and my thoughts went wild

Warnings: ddlg relationship, daddy kink

Rowan is naturally protective of your his mate or not

His nicknames for you are princess and little one

He lets you braid his hair, “I just want to make your hair prettier daddy.”

Rowan can’t deny you when you give him puppy dog eyes it’s his weakness

When you two go out Rowan always makes sure you’re by his side

You have to hold his hand because he lost you in the market once and it was almost an hour before he found you again

It wasn’t your fault you wandered off, you saw some pretty earrings you wanted Rowan to buy you

And then you got distracted by other carts and stores and time just slipped away from you

I think Rowan is definitely strict with his rules

He expects you to be his good girl especially if you want rewards

You’ve tried the whole brat thing but hated the punishment. It also wasn’t your vibe and didn’t fit the relationship

When he does reward you it’s so satisfying

Rowan positively spoils you with books, dresses, flowers, and whatever else your heart desires

Rowan hates leaving you alone when he has to go on missions with the cadre

Saying goodbye sucks because you always worry about if he’ll come home

Leaving for his last mission you were a blubbering mess

Your arms were wrapped around his middle, chin resting on his chest as you looked up at him with big tears in your eyes. Rowan almost wanted to cry himself, he hates that it’s him causing those tears

Your lip wobbles as you whisper, “please don’t go.” That cracks Rowan’s heart as he hugs you tight to his body. He doesn’t want to leave you but you can’t come with him

“I’ll be back in a few days little one I promise. You’re strong, we’ll be back together soon.” He whispers back, kissing the top of your head. You very reluctantly let go of him and he wipes away your tears. “I love you y/n. I’ll see you in a few days.” “Love you too daddy.” You murmur.

Rowan holds your chin, tilting your head up so he can give you a soft, quick kiss before leaving

When he comes home you cry all over again with joy at seeing him in one piece. You run at him as soon as he’s through the front door and Rowan scoops you up, carrying you upstairs to reward you for being patient

He trained you to fight and picked daggers as your weapons which was a mistake because you almost took off your own fingers and his. You were better with your fists and he hasn’t given you a weapon since

You love baking and Rowan is 100% a pie guy

He will eat any pie you make him. His favorite is apple pie warmed up and he’ll always feed you a few bites from his fork even if you have your own (his just tastes better)

You’re at your happiest when cuddling with Rowan

There’s a significant size difference between the two of you and you love how you can curl into him and that Rowan can just cover you with his whole body

You feel so protected when he holds you to his chest. Rowan also softly hums to you at night if you have trouble falling asleep

Rowan also plays with your hair and gives you a soft scalp massage which always relaxes you

[featherymalignancy]

CHAPTER TEN—In Vino Veritas: A Nessian Story

Summary: Nesta Archeron is convinced she has everything she wants: a law degree from an ivy, a prestigious job, a gorgeous boyfriend, and excellent taste in wine. However, when she wanders into her local wine vendor and meets a handsome stranger unafraid to play her quick-witted games, she begins to wonder if the life she’s built is really the one she wants.

Cash Kahukore worked his entire adolescent life to become a sommelier, ignoring the slurs his mixed heritage have always earned him as he fought his way to the top. However, after five years abroad buying for Michelin star restaurants and dealing with rich white assholes, he’s grown bored with his life. When a gorgeous lawyer comes in to his uncle’s shop one afternoon, he immediately recognizes a worthy opponent in her. Undaunted by her sharp tongue and possessive boyfriend, he’s determined to be her friend, and—as time goes on and their circumstances change—possibly something more.

Check out the In Vino Masterlist HERE

This a prequel to Navy Suits and Chelsea Boots that takes place three years before. If you love Elriel (and don’t mind finding out how this story ends) check it now.

Chapter 10, Pt. 1: Dom Perignon

Though Nesta had spent the better part of a week attempting to rationalize the feeling away, by Friday afternoon she could no longer deny it: she was nervous.  

Ordinarily, meeting new people didn’t scare Nesta. Winning over strangers was literally part of her job, after all, and her record in court suggested she was rather good at getting strangers to trust her. Compared to some of the juries Nesta had faced, meeting one of her boyfriend’s best friends should—in theory—have been a cakewalk. 

Except that Rhysand Sadeghi was no ordinary stranger, and Nesta couldn’t deny that he had several distressingly valid reasons for not liking her. Cash had never given her any details about his weekend with Azriel and Rhys in Vegas and Nesta had never asked, in large part because she selfishly didn’t want to know what ungenerous things he may of said about her while under the influence of alcohol and the pain she’d caused him.

Still, Rhys had seemed supportive enough when Cash and Nesta first went public with their relationship two months ago, which would have been enough to assuage the worst of Nesta’s fears about meeting him had she not also surmised from Cash’s many stories that the Sadeghi family prized loyalty above everything else, and that their good opinion, once lost, was difficult to regain. She wasn’t naive enough to think that a few flame emojis on an instagram post meant that Rhys genuinely approved of her. Despite Cash’s assurances to the contrary, Nesta could see Rhys’s current trip to the States for what it really was: a test.

When she’s suggested as much to Cash, he’d merely laughed, explaining that Rhys was coming to California to finalize an acquisition deal he’d been trying to close for months, and that he’d only decided to extend his trip and stay the weekend after Cash had suggested it.

It was a plausible enough story, Nesta supposed, and she might have even been tempted to accept it was true had Rhys been traveling alone.

 Except he wasn’t coming alone. 

Seemingly unsatisfied with the prospect of interrogating her one-on-one, Rhys had summoned what felt like a tribunal of Cash’s closest friends, including Mor and Azriel, despite the fact the former allegedly hating getting involved with the family’s real estate business and the latter lived over six hours away.

 Even Rowan was supposedly coming to their gathering this evening, and though Nesta might have otherwise been relieved to have him there as a potential ally, she felt she knew him well enough to understand that if Rowan was going to a nightclub, it was likely because Aelin was forcing him. Nesta had still yet to formally meet Aelin thanks to the latter's current AVP tournament schedule, and despite the role Nesta had played in saving Nehemiah from deportation, Aelin still remained very much a wildcard. 

As did Mor.

She’d been warm and perfectly friendly the first time Nesta met her, but things had admittedly been very different then. And now…

Nesta knew that Mor was one of Cash’s fiercest defenders, and she hadn’t deluded herself into thinking Mor would ever forgive her for what Nesta had put Cash through that night at Tonga Room, even if she didn’t know all the ugly details. 

Then again, maybe Mor would understand. From the little Cash had shared about her romantic history, Nesta had gathered that Mor had first-hand experience with abusive relationships. Perhaps if the opportunity presented itself this evening, Nesta could get Mor one-on-one. She knew that she had nothing to apologize for, but perhaps if she could explain her side of things, she and Mor could move past all the messiness and possibly start over. Maybe, with enough time and patience, they could even become... friends .

The idea filled Nesta with a dangerous sort of hope, and she found by the time that she got home to the townhouse she and Cash now shared that she was actually somewhat looking forward to seeing where the evening might take them. 

Kicking off her stilettos, Nesta gave her grandmother’s beloved bookcase an affectionate pat as she headed up the stairs to the main floor, calling for Cash as she did. 

“You still here, Mister?”

Yet another complication of the evening: Cash—who was in the final stage of interviews for the coveted North American brand manager position at Dom Pérignon—had been invited to a last-minute dinner with one of the company top executives, who’d flown in from Reims specifically for the meeting. Thrilled as Nesta was for Cash—particularly now that Devon was home and back running The Merchant full-time—she couldn’t help but be nervous for the two or so hours she’d be spending with his friends sans Cash. 

Nesta glanced at her watch and frowned. It was barely six o’clock, and the reservation wasn’t until nine-fifteen; surely he hadn’t left already. Checking her phone to ensure he hadn’t texted her, she made to call out again before hearing the rumble of his voice coming from the third floor. 

Abandoning her cell phone and purse on the dining room table, Nesta headed up the stairs, listening with increasing worry as Cash’s voice grew louder. 

He was in the study speaking to someone via video chat through the tv which had been mounted to the wall, and as Nesta drew closer, she heard an uncharacteristic bite in Cash’s tone that instantly had her good mood curdling to worry.

“If you didn’t want to come,” he was saying, voice harder than usual. “You could have at least been straight-up with me about it, instead of putting on this dog-and-pony show just to punish me—”

“Don’t be dramatic. I didn’t plan this, and I certainly didn’t do it to punish you.”

Nesta knew that voice—that lovely, posh accent, so much colder now than the first time she’d heard it. 

Mor.

And if she was on the phone, it meant she couldn’t be on a plane, and if she wasn’t on a plane, then that meant—

Nesta’s shame spiral was interrupted by the sound of Cash’s brittle laughter.

“Oh I see. To punish Nesta, then.”

Mor was silent for a moment, her voice softer but no less fierce when she finally said, “I’m not trying to punish her, either, but can you honestly tell me she wouldn’t deserve it if I was?”

Nesta’s heart sank, dragging her down with such brutal force that she had to lean against the wall to keep her balance. Every fear she’d had about meeting Cash’s friends came flooding back to the surface, and she felt the guilt she’d been trying to swallow these past months rising like bile in her throat, acrid enough to make her mouth water.

“I don’t have to justify myself to you and neither does she,” Cash said. “Jesus, what is your problem?” 

Mor gave a soft snort of disgust, her own patience seemingly frayed by Cash’s accusatory tone.

“Oh, so now I’m the villain? Even though she's the one who strung you along then broke your trust? Look, I get that she’s been through a lot and that you always want to see the best in people, but sometimes you’ve got to do the selfish thing and put yourself first.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Cash demanded.

“It means that having a shitty ex—even an abusive one—isn’t an excuse for treating others badly! I’ve known a million girls just like her, and I’ve seen how this story ends. She’s a taker, and if you let her, she will take and take and take from you until there’s nothing left.”

Mor’s words struck Nesta like a blow, driving straight to the fear that most often plagued her about her relationship: that she was selfish for still wanting Cash after everything she’d put him through, and that by continuing to be with him, she was proving she cared more for herself than she did him.

Six months ago, that one thought would have been enough to send Nesta spiraling into panic and self-doubt. Today—despite the pain—she managed to catch herself, rooting down in the knowledge that what she and Cash now had, they’d built together .

Cash—for his part—seemed equally as unwilling to allow the comment to find its mark.

“You don’t know her, though. You don’t know a goddamn thing about her, because if you did, you’d understand what an absolute dickhead you’re being right now.”

Mor gave a tight, almost-pained, sigh.

“I’m not saying this to hurt you. I’m telling you because I care about you and I’m worried.”

“Well you have a shitty way of showing it,” Cash snapped. “I love this girl, Mor! Does that really mean so little to you?”

It had apparently been the wrong thing to say, because when she finally spoke again, Mor’s voice had gone cold enough to burn.

“Do what you want, then,” she said flatly. “I’m not going to pretend I’m fine with this just because no one else has the bollocks to tell you the truth.”

There was a pause before Cash replied, voice softer but no less edged, “You’re way out of line right now; if you don’t want to admit it to me, I hope you can at least find the courage to admit it to yourself.”

“Fine,” Mor said. “Anything else?”

“Actually yes,” Cash said, a renewed bite in his tone. “While we’re on the subject of messing about in other people’s business, get off Az’s back . He’s never going to be able to open up enough to meet someone when he’s terrified you won’t approve of anyone he picks.”

Mor’s answering laugh was acerbic, and though Nesta didn’t know her well, the bitterness in her tone didn’t seem to suit the bright, kind women Nesta remembered meeting all those months ago.

“Why, so he can meet a girl like Nesta?” 

“You wanna lose me? Stay one more cruel thing about her, I fucking dare you.”

“Cash—”

“Goodbye Morrigan.”

Nesta listened as Cash ended the call before swearing to himself, the sound partially muffled as he presumably buried his head in his hands.

Nesta remained where she was, debating if she ought to just sneak back downstairs and pretend she hadn’t heard any of what had just been said. It would be easier for Cash if he could keep believing he’d managed to shield Nesta from the worst of Mor’s scorn.

Nesta’s mind was nearly made up when she recalled the look on Cash’s face as he’d begged her not to lie to him anymore, even in the service of protecting his feelings.

It was that promise which gave Nesta the courage to finally move, deliberately shuffling her bare feet along the rug in the hallway to alert him of her presence before pausing in the doorway.

Cash raised his head, his tender expression managing to slightly lessen the current ache in Nesta’s chest.

“Hi,” she said, leaning her head against the wall as she took him in.

“Hi,” he said, seeming to study her with the same intensity. “How much of that did you catch?”

She shrugged, not bothering to hide the truth of it in her eyes.

“Enough,” she admitted.

Cash swore softly before extending his arms to her.

“Can I hold you?”

That he’d asked—that he’d cared enough to seek her permission instead of simply reaching for her—soothed a part of Nesta she’d hadn’t realized was still healing.

Wordlessly she crossed to him, sinking into his lap and breathing in his inviting masculine scent. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Don’t be,” she said, fighting to keep the emotion out of her voice. “I understand.”

“No, please don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t internalize this.”

“She's not wrong, Cash.”

“Yes she is!” he said, his voice firm. Still, his touch remained gentle as he reached to cup her cheeks. “What happened at Tonga was between us , and we’ve moved past it! Besides—”

He let out a sigh.

“Look, this doesn’t excuse her behavior, but this isn’t about you. Mor’s got plenty of her own baggage she’s yet to fully square up with, and sometimes I think she chooses to get overly-invested in other people’s problems to avoid having to deal with her own.”

“I understand why she doesn’t care for me,” Nesta said. “If the situations were reversed, I’d likely feel the same way. I just—I don’t want you to lose friends because of me.”

“I haven’t lost anything,” Cash assured her. “Mor and I have been in much nastier fights than this before and we’ve always managed to patch things up. Besides, if she truly isn’t willing to give the woman I love a chance, she isn’t the friend I thought she was.”

Nesta nodded, desperate to take comfort in what he’d said about Mor and move on. Still, hearing the righteous venom Mor harbored had felt to Nesta the way she assumed opening that damned box had made Pandora feel, and now that the floodgates had been opened, she found there was one fear in particular she couldn’t shake. 

Unable to suppress the urge any longer, she finally asked, “And Aelin?”

“Aelin?” Cash asked, brows knitting. “What about her?”

“Please don’t play dumb,” Nesta said, hating the slight pleading in her voice. “I assume she hates me, too.”

Cash gave a wry smile that she couldn’t help but be slightly assuaged by. 

“On the contrary, Aelin has been picking out our wedding china since before we were even dating.”

Nesta huffed a laugh, and he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“And next to Rowan, Nehemiah is hands-down the most important person in Aelin’s life. Regardless of what she may have thought before, I guarantee that after what you did to help NeNe, you have a friend for life in Aelin.”

“I’m sorry,” Nesta said. “For causing all this. I didn’t—”

She broke off, and though Cash waited for her to finish, she realized after a beat she didn't actually know what to say.

“Nesta,” Cash said softly. “I love you. Nothing anyone else says will change my mind about that, and I am never going to let anyone tear you down, whether you think you deserve it or not.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” Nesta asked, tucking a strand of dark hair that had come loose behind his ear. 

Cash answering grin was soft and achingly lovely.

“Should I go alphabetically or chronologically?”

Nesta brushed his lips with the pads of her fingers, her own smile growing as well. It never ceased to amaze her how easily he could change her mood.

“Chronologically.”

“Okay,” Cash said, tugging her more fully into his lap so he could kiss her neck. “Then how about this morning in the shower?”

With similar schedules and a dual-head shower in the master bath, they showered together most mornings, a simple ritual that had nonetheless become one of Nesta’s favorites. 

Most days they merely shared the space in contented silence, focusing on their own tasks and only speaking to request the other fetch the shampoo or pass the body wash. However, when Nesta glanced over that morning just in time to watch Cash tip his head back to rinse his hair, water cascading down his toned back and over his gorgeously sculpted ass, she hadn’t been able to resist. Pushing him against the wall, she’d gotten on her knees and sucked him off until his eyes had rolled back in his head. 

They’d ended up staying in the shower until the water had gone tepid after that.

“That was mutual,” she reminded him. 

Cash grinned, leaning up to kiss her neck again.

“The sounds you make when I fuck your ass honestly make me feel like I’ve won the lottery,” he said against her skin.

“I know,” she said with a smirk, moving to slide off his lap. “You should probably start getting ready. You need to leave in an hour and a half.”

Cash was undeterred by her prudence. 

“That’s plenty of time,” he breathed, hitching up the pencil skirt she wore and toying with the waistband of her black silk thong. “Take these off and let me make you feel good.”

Nesta dug her nails into his toned shoulders, grinding against him almost involuntarily. 

“Here?” She asked, distracted by the fact he was already growing hard beneath her. 

“Study’s still on the list.”

It was a tempting offer, and though part of Nesta badly needed the distraction, the lingering guilt over what she’s wrought between Cash and Mor kept the worst of her selfish impulses in check.

“You went down on me in here last week,” she pointed out in deflection.

Cash, unsurprisingly, wasn’t deterred by this explanation.

“True,” he agreed. “But your sister called before I could make you come, so it doesn’t count,” he said, tugging her thong up until the fabric was roughly splitting her. “Don’t make me beg, gorgeous.”

She couldn’t hold back the groan when he gave another her thong coaxing tug, the material brushing against her unsheathed clit.

“I like when you beg,” she said, already growing breathless from his machinations. 

“What’s coincidence,” he said, leaning forward to nip at her ear. “I like when you beg, too.”

“I don’t beg,” she said, not quite ready to give up their little game despite her own growing anticipation for what was sure to follow.

Cash’s answering laugh was pure sin.

“Don’t tempt me to make a liar out of you, Nes. We both know that I could have you crawling on hands and knees for me if I wanted, and that you’d enjoy every sweet second of it.”

Nesta only smirked in response, sliding off his lap in a way that made him groan in pleasure. Slowly she retreated to the opposite wall before shucking the thong off from beneath her pencil skirt and kicking it to his feet in offering.  

Cash settled further into the plush velvet couch in answer, arms draped across the back and legs casually splayed. 

“Good girl. Now everything else,” he said in a silken command. 

She flashed him a tarty, ‘fuck-me’ smile. 

“Everything?”she repeated.

He studied her with a stark male appreciation that made her instantly wet, his gaze slithering  from her bare feet to the chignon still wound into her hair. 

“You can leave the earrings.”

“How generous,” she said, easing the hem of her silk blouse out from where it had been tucked into her skirt and beginning to unbutton it. 

Cash made a soft sound of appreciation as she finally slid the garment from her shoulders and tossed it onto a nearby club chair. 

His eyes glazed a bit as she reached behind her back to unfasten her bra next. When the clasp came free, she tossed the frilly scraps of evergreen lace into his lap. 

Though he hadn’t moved from his languid position on the couch, Nesta could clearly make out the consequence of her teasing as it pushed against the front of Cash’s trousers. 

“Don’t stop,” he urged, voice midnight soft now. 

Nesta obeyed, pulling the clip from her hair and giving it a soft shake before finally reaching for the zipper of her skirt. Cash was practically panting by the time Nesta began easing the garment down her thighs, and when she straightened to reveal her completely bare form, his eyes were dark with hunger. 

He surveyed her for a moment without comment, head slightly cocked as he admired her beneath the soft glow of the office’s recessed lighting. His gaze was like warm honey, sweetly clinging to every place on her body it touched. She felt her own desire coming alive under his unceasing attention, and she rubbed her legs together to ease the ache which had begun to throb between them. 

Sensing her impatience he finally rose, advancing on her with quiet intent before pushing her against the bookcase which had been built into the wall and kissing her. She moaned as he eased his tongue into her mouth, the soft material of his shirt brushing against her bare chest as he strung an arm around her waist and tugged her more fully into him.

She moaned again when his hand finally found its way between her thighs, but he only spared her a teasing stroke or two before coaxing her legs around his waist, carrying her to the center of the room and easing her onto the sheepskin rug.

She might have objected to being naked on the floor had the cleaning woman not been there the day before. Cash must have thought the same because he laughed; not at her, but in a way that told it safe to let go. 

“Relax for me, sweetheart,” he said, lips brushing a spot on her neck which instantly had her melting.

Noting the change, he huffed another soft laugh onto her skin, lightly grazing the same spot with his teeth before breathing, “good girl.”

Nesta wasn’t ashamed to admit what praise did for her in bed, but she had little time to revel in Cash’s words before he was easing his way down her body, lips brushing her ribs and the crease of her hip before his tongue lazily found its way directly between her legs.

She swore at the first contact, her fingers finding their way into the dark water of his hair and tugging as he applied a small amount of pressure just where she needed him.

She could still hear Mor’s venomous rebuke ringing in her ears, but the words grew fainter with each careful stroke of Cash’s tongue, her conscious mind yielding to pure sensation.

Despite the time constraint, Cash remained unhurried in his task, and Nesta was weak-kneed and covered in a thin sheen of sweat by the time release finally found her.

Cash pulled back slightly to survey her, a satisfied smirk tugging at his full mouth when he brushed a finger down her torso and she trembled in response. 

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he breathed, bending to kiss her.

“What time—” she began, but he cut her off with another kiss.

“It’s 7:15,” he said against her lips. “You still have plenty of time to get ready.”

However, when he attempted to pull back she dug her nails into his shoulders to keep him close. 

“Take your clothes off. I need you inside of me.”

His answering laugh skimmed across her bare skin like silk.

“As my lady commands.”

“Now, pleasant,” she said, pressing a teasing foot to the center of  his chest and nudging him back.

Cash laughed again before rising to his feet and beginning to undress. When he peeled off his shirt, her hand found its way between her legs almost of its own volition, moving lazily as she drank him in. 

“That’s it, gorgeous,” he said, hands at his belt buckle now. “keep going.”

“I’d rather have your fingers between my legs,” she admitted.

He chuckled.

“I wouldn’t. You know what watching you get yourself off does to me.”

“Maybe sometime you’ll let me watch you, Handsome.” 

They hadn’t experimented with mutual masturbation yet, but it was on Nesta’s list. 

By now Cash had shed his boxer briefs to reveal—unsurprisingly—that he was fully ready for her. 

“I could come just from the way you look at me,” he said, stroking himself as he once again knelt to join her. 

Before she could protest, he put his head between her thighs again, tongue focused solely on her clit as he continued working himself. When she felt herself begin to tip over the edge he pulled back, pressing a hand to the crease of her hip and sinking into her in a single motion. 

It was timed perfection she could only marvel at. In several quick thrusts the head of his cock scraped her g-spot just as her orgasm had been ready to fade, and she came hard.

“That’s it,” he said as she clenched around him, trembling. “Squeeze me, Nes.”

She panted as the sensations continued to ripple through her.

“How did you even—“

“Because I know this body even better than you do,” he said. “ Fuck , that was so hot to watch.”

“Ride me,” Nesta demanded in response. “Hard.”

“Flip over,” he said. 

She did, and he wasted no time in sinking inside of her again, one foot braced on the carpet for better leverage as he grabbed her hips.

“Keep touching yourself.”

“I’m not going to be able to come again,” she said. 

“We’ll see about that. Go on Lovely, do it for me.”

Her clit was still throbbing from his earlier machinations so Nesta kept her touch featherlight as he began to move. Instead of thrusting forward into her, Cash instead pulled her back onto him while Nesta rocked her weight in the opposite direction to create tension. It was a rhythm they’d discovered early on in their sexual odyssey, and the friction was blinding for both of them. 

The room filled with the sound of their bodies as they came together, and Nesta could feel the swing of Cash’s stones against her ass as he thrust, a depraved sensation that drove her out of her mind with want. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she demanded. 

“I’m thinking that if this rug wasn’t three grand, I’d be tempted to pull out and come all over you.”

“You’re close?” 

“Oh God , yes.”

Nesta couldn’t help but preen at that.

“Keep talking,” she demanded, always greedy for as much of him as she could get.

And Cash, God love him, was always just as eager to oblige. 

“Do you know why I like to go down on you right before we have sex?”

“Tell me.”

His thrusts increased in intensity, a sign he was close. 

“Because your gorgeous little cunt is so tight, I’m never sure if I’ll be able to last long enough to give you an orgasm.”

“You’ve given me tons of vaginal orgasms,” Nesta panted.

“Only through sheer power of will. Fuck , Nes.”

She threw her hips back into Cash’s a final time and he was a goner.

He kneaded her ass with a firm grip as he emptied himself inside her, and though Nesta felt herself going boneless as the pleasure Cash had thrust her into finally began to relax its hold. 

Fisting her hair, Cash coaxed her head back for a soft kiss before pulling out and slapping her ass. 

“Go jump in the shower, I’ll join you in a second.”

Nesta  rose to her feet, keeping her thighs neatly tucked to avoid making a mess of the carpet after all. Cash marked the gesture before rewarding it with a cocky, bone-melting smirk. The Nesta of a year ago would have snarled at him for the stark appreciation shining in his eyes; today she could only marvel that he seemed to find her as desirable as she found him.

A beat of comfortable silence passed as they remained drinking one another in, and when Nesta’s gaze finally met Cash’s again, it was to find his expression had faded to something almost reverent, though the hunger remained.

“I know it probably makes me a total caveman, but I never get tired of seeing you full of me like that.”

The admission was so stark and primal that Nesta felt her belly clenching pleasantly.

“Maybe it does,” she agreed. “But I’m too much of a junkie for that look you’re giving me to care.”

Cash laughed.

“She digs the caveman vibe; good to know.”

Nesta rolled her eyes, even as she laughed a little herself. 

“Don’t push it,” she said, turning to the door and slipping down the hall to the bathroom.

Despite his promise, Nesta more than halfway through her post-sex shower ritual by the time Cash joined her, his touch warming her skin in a way the water alone never could.

“Are you going to miss me while I’m at dinner?” He asked, kissing her neck.

“Of course,” she said, leaning in as he nipped playfully at her ear.

“How much?” 

“Enough that I’m still debating if I ought to call a bomb threat into Mastro’s so dinner will have to be postponed.”

Normally Cash would have simply laughed at that, but he must have heard something in Nesta’s tone, because he pulled away slightly so he could study her, a frown tugging at his sensuous lips.

“Are you seriously nervous about tonight, because you have no reason to be; everyone is going to love you.”

“Everyone except Mor, you mean.”

Cash’s frown deepened, though his gaze remained almost unbearably tender.

“Don’t worry about her.”

“How can I not?”

“Nes—“

“It’s fine,” she said, slipping past him to grab her towel. She turned, forcing a smile as she reassured him, “I’m fine.”

She left before he could push the issue, trying to focus on getting ready as a means of distraction from Mor’s voice still echoing on repeat in her head.

Cash, for his part, seemed to sense she didn’t want to be pushed, because she was nearly through drying her hair by the time he finally re-emerged, dressed in a burgundy sport coat and slacks, his own hair pulled back in his typical style.

He didn’t immediately speak, simply leaned against the doorframe and watched her as she finished her hair and moved onto her makeup. 

She allowed his silent assessment for as long as she could bear before glancing up at him in the mirror and snapping, “what?”

Her tone was slightly sharper than she would have liked, but she was still learning how to accept his concern without defensiveness.

“Do you want me to cancel dinner?”

At this she stopped what she was doing, turning from her vanity to face him fully.

“Are you insane?”

“Gabriel already told me last week that I’m Dom’s top choice. If that’s true, then they will understand—”

“I’m sure it is true!” she interrupted. “But how could you possibly think I’d let you take that risk? Especially over something so trivial.”

“Your emotional safety isn’t trivial,” he said quietly. “Not to me.”

She felt herself softening at that, especially as she noted the unbearable tenderness which had crept into his expression.

“I know that,” she said. “But you should know that I would never let you give up something this important for my sake.”

“Fair enough,” he said, but before she could revel in the knowledge he wouldn’t be risking his career over something as petty and inconsequential as her feelings, he added, “then don’t go tonight. You can meet my friends another time.”

Nesta couldn’t hold back the surprised laugh which slipped out, the sound brittle even to her ears.

“And how will that look? You can’t make it so I just decide to bail?”

“I don’t really give a shit how it looks. I only care that you are alright.”

“I am,” she assured him, and seeing that she’d yet to fully convince him, she added, “At least, I’m getting there. I know what tonight means to you, and that’s important to me! Besides, I want a chance to get to know your friends and for them to get to know me. I can’t do that if I spend the rest of our relationship casually hiding from them.”

Cash’s expression didn’t change, but Nesta could tell the idea pleased him, which only hardened her resolve to see things through.

“You’re sure?” He said.

“Seeing as we already know that my biggest detractor won’t be there, how bad can it be?” Nesta said, turning back and flashing him a sardonic smirk in the mirror.

“Too soon,” Cash said with a huffed laugh, coming over to kiss her cheek before adding more quietly, “I love you.”

In lieu of responding, she reached back to string a hand around his neck, scraping her nails along the nape in a gesture she knew soothed him.

They remained there for a long moment in comfortable silence before Cash gently extricated himself.

“I’ll let you finish getting ready,” he said. “I’m not leaving for another twenty minutes.”

Nesta nodded, leaning into him for another kiss on the cheek before attending to her makeup.

Cash was sitting at the kitchen island reviewing LVMH’s latest earning statement when Nesta finally emerged, the soft rustle of her sequined mini dress the only sound as Cash eyed her appreciatively.

“You like?” She asked, reaching the landing and giving a turn to show the open back and dangerously-short hem. “It’s new.”

“You look stunning,” he replied, eyes twinkling. “Though I would argue that has very little to do with the dress.”

She rolled her eyes even as she draped an arm over his shoulders and settled into his lap. She didn’t miss the way his gaze flitted to the forbidden stretch of thigh which was revealed as her skirt rode up to accommodate the new position.

“I assume LVMH is sending a car?”

Cash nodded, smoothing a hand down said thigh and causing Nesta’s skin to tingle.

“Should be here in five.”

She nodded, preparing to ask if he was ready for the meeting when he spoke first.

“Okay, last offer, hear me out.”

“Cash—” she began, attempting to stand up even as he coaxed her to remind where she was.

“I can tell Az we’ll just meet him at the club, then you can hang out here and wait for me and we can go toge—”

“Don’t do that, he’s probably already on his way,” Nesta cut in. “And I said I’ll be fine, so I will be. Just…stop, please.”

Cash opened his mouth as if he wanted to argue before his phone dinged, signaling his driver had arrived. 

“Go,” she said, sliding to her bare feet. “You don’t want to be late.”

After a final moment’s hesitation he did the same, straightening his slacks as she grabbed his sports coat from the back of a nearby stool and held it out for him.

He obliged her, slipping his arms through and shrugging it on as Nesta came around to adjust the collar. She sometimes forgot just how much taller he was than her when she wasn’t in her typical heels, and she had to rise to her tip-toes to kiss him.

“Go kill it,”she said against his lips. “You’ve earned this.”

He brushed his nose against hers in response, an affectionate gesture that still made butterflies dance in Nesta’s stomach every time. 

She could tell that Cash was fighting with the urge to offer her one final out on the evening’s festivities, but she was grateful when he chose to simply kiss her instead.

“Have fun with the boys,” he said. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour or two behind you.”

“Take you time,” she said firmly. “From everything you’ve shared, I don’t see Rhysand ending the party anytime before daybreak.”

“How very terrifying and true,” he said, eyes full of all the things still left unsaid as he grabbed his phone, blew her a kiss, and jogged down the stairs to the front door. 

Nesta felt some of the fight go out of her as she listened to the door open and shut, the telltale chime of the security system being re-armed echoing up a second later.

The plan to have Azriel meet them at the townhouse for drinks prior to joining up with Rhys and the rest of their cabal had been made before Cash had known he’d be entertaining the Dom execs, and though Nesta had been adamant that they needn’t change the plan simply because Cash wouldn’t be there, she couldn’t help but wonder at her own stubbornness as she waited nervously for Azriel to arrive.

On the one hand, Nesta’s initial interaction with Azriel had been entirely pleasant, and had left her with an adequate degree of certainty that—despite the Owen debacle—she and Az could get on just fine without Cash present to act as a buffer. 

However, Mor’s assessment earlier had challenged any confidence Nesta may have had when it came to Cash’s friends. Perhaps she’d been arrogant to think that Rhys and Aelin were the only one she had to be worried about winning over tonight, even with Mor temporarily out of the picture. After all, Rhys may have been Mor’s cousin, but it was clear to Nesta that Azriel and Mor had some kind of history.

Cash had never fully explained what—if anything—had gone down between them, but Nesta had always gotten the sense from his stories that Azriel had carried a torch for Mor at some point. It was only just occurring to Nesta that he very well still could. Perhaps all of Azriel’s seemingly meaningless flings were just a distraction from the girl he wanted but couldn’t have. 

And even if he didn’t have romantic feelings for her, it was clear that Mor’s opinion was incredibly important to Azriel.

What was it that Cash had said earlier?

 He’s never going to be able to open up enough to meet someone when he’s terrified you won’t approve of anyone he picks. 

If Mor voiced her concerns about Nesta to Cash, it was entirely possible (and indeed fairly probable) that she’d shared the same—or worse—with Azriel. And even if she hadn’t, what was to say that he hadn’t come to his own unfavorable conclusion about Nesta after the Vegas trip? She could only imagine what he’d heard and seen that weekend, and frankly she couldn’t blame him if he’d decided that he hated her, too.

Nesta’s heart rate kicked up as she considered the increasingly-grim possibilities. Perhaps she’d been too quick to reject Cash’s offer to send Azriel ahead. If she hadn’t—

Nesta’s phone chimed to signal a notification, and she’d been so deeply engrossed in her catastrophizing that the sound startled an undignified shriek out of her. Pressing a hand to her chest in an attempt to slow her hammering heart, she glanced down to see an alert from the Ring app signaling someone was at the door. 

Having no time left with which to ponder her potential evisceration, Nesta simply exhaled a steadying breath before heading down the stairs and disarming the security system.

Nesta felt some of her initial apprehension melt away as she pulled open the door to find that—far from the anger or aloofness she’d feared—Azriel was actually smiling, a modest bouquet of tulips tucked under one arm.

Much like the first time Nesta had met him, Azriel was in all black, from his silk bomber jacket to the well-tailored Japanese denim he wore, his designer boots—Prada, if Nesta had to guess—shined to perfection.

“For you,” Azriel said in greeting, extending the flowers, already neatly trimmed and arranged in a stylish vase, before flashing another soft smile. “I would normally have just brought a bottle of wine, but given what Cash has told me about your incredible palette, I didn’t want to embarrass myself by bringing something terrible.”

“These are lovely,” Nesta assured him. “Please, come in.”

Azriel gave a polite nod and stepped past her, waiting as she re-armed the door before following her up the stairs to the main living space. She thought to offer him a tour before remembering he’d already seen the place when Cash first moved in with her, so instead she opted for what she hoped was amiable silence as she set down the flowers on the island.

“Can I get you something to drink?” She asked, turning to the fridge in an effort to mask her unease. 

Despite Azriel’s warm greeting and the flowers he’d brought, Nesta felt her nerves lingering. However, not wanting to dwell on the stakes, she simply forged on.

“I have water, wine, beer, some of those disgusting hard seltzers....”

When Azriel still didn’t reply, she glanced up to see wry amusement sparkling in his eyes, brows slightly raised.

“I have two college-age sisters,” she explained. “Feyre in particular has terrible taste in beverages.”

Azriel huffed a polite laugh, though the slight flush in his cheeks told Nesta he’d been perhaps warned off making any comment about the youngest Archeron, even if it was friendly.

Smart man.

Instead he said, “If I asked for a shot of tequila, would you join me?”

Nesta smiled, retreating to the liquor cabinet and fetching a bottle of reposado and two rocks glasses. 

“I should have known,” she said, pouring the golden liquor into both glasses before raising one to him in a toast. “Cash said you’d be the one to watch out for; the knife in the dark.”

At this Azriel laughed outright, his impeccably straight teeth on display as he raised his own glass. It was a deep, rich sound, made all the more satisfying by the knowledge that it had been earned. 

“I’ve been to this club before,” he explained. “Trust me when I say it’s not a place you want to go sober.”

It surprised Nesta a little that Azriel—for whom a weekend in Ibiza had been a self-professed torture—was nevertheless familiar with some gaudy nightclub in a city almost 400 miles away from his own. 

She opened her mouth to say as much before remembering Cash’s sly remarks about Azriel’s dating life. It seemed a reasonable bet that the last time that Azriel had gone to Divinity, it hadn’t been for the shitty music or overpriced cocktails. 

Still, that wasn’t any of Nesta’s business, so she instead replied, “I will drink to that,” tapping his glass and throwing the shot back. It didn’t burn the way the cheap tequila she’d always drank in college had, instead warming her belly as it settled in her stomach. 

She poured them each a second measure of tequila—this one for sipping on—and gestured Azriel take a seat on one of the barstools studded around the large granite island. 

There was a measure of surprisingly comfortable silence as they both took a sip of their refreshed drinks, and Nesta cast around for something polite for them to talk about before the moment stretched too long. 

Nesta hadn’t forgotten the comments both Cash and Azriel himself had made about Azriel’s family, but unsure of where else to begin, she began carefully, “Cash mentioned you met in London. Are you from the UK originally?”

He didn’t have an accent, but that didn’t mean much. Perhaps he’d trained himself out of it as a means of transformation. If there was one thing that Nesta felt certain of in regards to Azriel Macar, it was that the man who stood before her today—hair impeccably styled and clothes tailored to perfection—was a facade crafted with the same artistry which had made him so successful as a designer. 

The real Azriel, Nesta sensed, was hidden somewhere beneath all the trappings of wealth and success, and for a reason she couldn’t fathom, the idea he felt the need to keep himself disguised made Nesta’s chest ache a bit. 

Azriel huffed a quiet, humorless laugh at the question, and Nesta wondered if—however innocuous—it had been the wrong one to ask. However, after another small sip of his drink, Azriel met her gaze, expression steady but guarded. 

“Hardly,” he said before glancing back down into his glass. “I grew up in Oklahoma.”

It had been the last thing Nesta had expected, and her struggle to master herself earned a laugh from Azriel, this one slightly easier. 

“You seem surprised,” he mused.

“I’m sorry,” she said, cheeks flushing a little. “I—”

“Don’t be,” Azriel said. “I’d have been offended if you hadn’t been. It’s a Hellhole.” He gave another humorless laugh. “Which is ironic considering churches practically outnumbered people in the town I grew up in.”

Not wanting to offend him by saying the wrong thing, Nesta settled for what felt like the safest option.

“I’ve never been to Oklahoma,” she offered. “The closest I’ve come is Dallas, and I can’t say I’m a huge fan of that, either.”

“Oh agreed,” Azriel said. “Though I wouldn’t say that in front of Rhys; you’ll break his bougie black heart. He loves Dallas.”

“For some reason that doesn’t surprise me,” Nesta admitted, and Azriel smiled.

“Then you’re a quick study.”

They fell into another comfortable silence as Nesta turned the comment over and over in his mind, debating the merits of voicing the question dangling on the tip of her tongue. The potential for blowback if she overstepped remained a clear and present danger, but Azriel’s relaxed demeanor emboldened her to take the risk.

“So…Rhysand,” she began, trying to keep her tone casual rather than anxious or over-eager. “Any tips?”

Azriel paused at this, his glass halfway to his mouth as he raised his eyebrows. Not as if he were offended by the question, but rather to indicate he hadn’t been expecting it. 

He took a sip of his drink in lieu of giving an immediate answer. Nesta wasn’t sure what to make of this stall tactic, but she resisted the urge to fill the silence, waiting instead for him to speak.

Finally he said, “Rhys is like skiing. Easy to learn but difficult to master. When I first met him, it took me all of ten minutes to decide I had him all figured out and that I fucking hated him. Now we’ve been best friends for almost five years, and he still finds ways to surprise the hell out of me on a regular basis. Still, chances are that even if you don’t want to like him, you still will. He’s inevitable in that way.”

“And what about the people he doesn’t like?” She asked carefully.

Azriel’s smile had grown soft and slightly more elusive, but he answered gamely, “I don’t think Rhys has ever met a female he didn’t like.” 

She didn’t know why she said it, but Nesta found herself blurting, “first time for everything, I suppose.”

It was more vulnerability than she’d wanted to show, and seeing the smile slip from Azriel’s face, she knew at once she’d said the wrong thing.

However, he didn’t immediately clap back like she feared he would, instead seeming almost...concerned.

“I know we don’t know each other that well,” he said after a beat, “but can I be...honest for a second?”

“Please,” Nesta said, despite the fact she wasn’t at all sure she was ready for whatever it was he had to say.

“I assume this has to do with Mor.”

It wasn’t a question, but it certainly answered any doubt Nesta had over whether Mor had voiced her dislike to the rest of the group.

“What makes you say that?” Nesta said, annoyed at herself for the tartness which had slid into her voice.

However, if her curt tone bothered Azriel, he didn’t show it. Instead he merely nodded, seeming to weigh his next statement before continuing on.

“I usually try to stay out of the inter-group politicking because there are enough busy-bodies in this crew as it is, but I will say this: Mor is entitled to her opinion; don’t make the mistake of assuming it’s an opinion that everyone shares.” 

“I wouldn’t blame you or Rhysand if you didn’t like me,” she admitted, fighting the urge to grow defensive in her vulnerability.

Azriel only shrugged. 

“Like I said, it’s not my style to insert myself into other people’s business, but…” 

He paused for a second to meet her eye before quietly adding, “I saw what was done to that bookcase, Nesta. Mor didn’t.”

Nesta felt a lump swelling in her throat at the memory, Tomás’s screaming still echoing faintly in her ears.

“That’s probably more grace than I deserve, but thank you.”

Azriel nodded again, looking down into the swirling remains of his drink before adding, “And for what it’s worth, you should know that Cash has never said one ugly thing about you, even in Vegas. He had every opportunity to tear you to pieces that weekend, and he never did.”

“I think that says more about his character than mine,” Nesta admitted, “But I can’t deny it’s a relief to hear.”

“Cash may seem carefree, but I don’t think I need to tell you that everything he does, he does with intention. That includes the company he chooses to keep.”

There was a finality to the way Azriel said it, as if he’d finally exceeded his limit for getting mixed up in his friends’ personal lives and was hoping to change the subject. 

Nesta rewarded his tacit request by refilling both their glasses and saying, “So, as two people who don’t like clubs, any idea what we can expect from tonight?”

“A bloody nightmare,” Azriel said half under his breath, accepting his glass back from her and taking a healthy drink. “Rhys promised we wouldn’t have to be there all night, so I’m praying he can accomplish whatever required schmoozing quickly so we can fuck off to somewhere slightly less atrocious.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Nesta said, raising her glass in salutation and taking a generous swig.

The conversation flowed fairly effortlessly after that, shifting from the friend group to Azriel’s work. He’d seemed hesitant to discuss it at first, as if he were afraid he might bore her if he talked about himself or his own interests for more than a sentence or two. However, once she’d coaxed him into opening up slightly, no doubt aided in her effort by the tequila, she found they had no shortage of topics to discuss. 

Beyond his own work, Azriel was a walking encyclopedia on the history of modernist architecture and design, and he was effortless in his ability to recite fascinating anecdotes about the movement’s pioneers. The way his eyes lit up as he regaled her with a story about Frank Lloyd Wright reminded Nesta of the look Elain always wore when discussing the Papal intrigue of Quattrocento Rome, and she envisioned—not for the first time—how well those two would likely get on were they to ever meet.

Nesta was surprised when she glanced at the oven clock and realized it was nearly 11:30. Azriel must have seen it too, because he drained his glass and reached for his coat.

“I’ve unfortunately exhausted all my tactics for delaying the inevitable,” Azriel said, pulling up the Uber app on his phone and showing Nesta that their driver was six minutes away. “Shall we?”

It was nearing midnight by the time they reached the white lacquered doors of Divinity, a throng of club hopefuls already beginning to amass behind the velvet rope which snaked off to the right of the entrance.

It was only then that Nesta realized they’d never been given any instruction on how or where to find the others. However, Azriel seemed to know the drill, because he skirted the line and went to the bouncer guarding the other side of the rope, presumably the entrance for VIP guests.  It didn’t take more than the words “Rhysand Sadaghi” to get them through the rope and following a hostess to what she continued to remind them was the club’s “premiere suite”. 

The farther they traveled into the space, the louder the hypnotic bass became until they were skirting the massive dance floor en route to a private balcony fashioned to look like a giant cloud suspended in mid-air. Nesta swore as she picked her way up the narrow staircase leading to the box, praying none of the smarmy-looking douchebags below would think to look up. If they did, she was fairly sure they'd have a full view up her skirt through the translucent steps. 

Finally, they reached the landing, and Nesta permitted herself one last steadying breath before accepting Azriel’s hand to clear the final stair.

The suite seemed to be divided into two chambers separated by a silk curtain. The initial space was currently unoccupied, but through the partition in the silk, Nesta spotted a single figure lounging in a plush armchair as it if were a throne, a drink balanced lazily on a knee as he surveyed the crowd below. However, she had less than a second to study him before he took notice of their arrival, his arms outstretched as his mouth split into a breath-taking grin.

Rhysand Sadeghi was gorgeous almost beyond comprehension. The picture of elegance and obscene wealth, he was as tall as Azriel and just as well-built, with glittering azure eyes and a smile bright enough to dazzle even in the semi-darkness. 

On paper his beauty was profuse to the point of revulsion—his eyes too blue, his lips too full, his cheekbones too sharp. In short, Rhysand should have been too pretty to actually be attractive. But there was something so devilishly human in the arch of his dark brows and the curve of his smile that made him, hands-down, the most handsome man Nesta had ever met. 

But not, she noted with a swell of pleasant emotion, the most attractive. Rhysand may have been physical perfection, but he would never be more beautiful to her than Cash; no man would. 

Rhysand gave a cat-like smile as he approached, straightening the lapels of his Armani suit jacket as if he were preparing to step into a business meeting. The crisp shirt beneath had the first several buttons undone, and Nesta could see the making of what was clearly a very intricate chest piece tattoo peaking above the collar, the swirling lines matching the designs which covered the backs of each of his hands.

“Nesta,” he said in greeting, tone warm as if they were old friends. “Finally. I was starting to worry that Cash was hiding you from me.”

His English accent was clipped but smooth, a clear product of his education at Eton and Oxford. 

Nesta turned to allow him to brush a kiss on her cheek. 

“So you’re the philandering rake I’ve heard so much about,” she said as they pulled away. 

It was perhaps a somewhat risky thing to say considering how badly she wanted Cash’s friends to like her, but Rhysand’s answering smile indicated he enjoyed a good verbal spar.

“And you’re even more beautiful than Cash described,” he shot back easily. “Careful, I might be tempted to steal you for myself.”

Nesta hit him with an expression Cash had affectionately termed “Disney Villainess.”

“I don’t know if I’m expected to laugh in your face, or slap you across it.”

Rhys only tipped his head back and laughed as Azriel said from behind her, “A fairly common reaction to meeting him, I’d say.”

“Drink?” Rhys asked, gesturing to the various champagne buckets scattered around the space. “What can I get you?”

He was already pouring a whiskey for Azriel before patting his friend affectionately on the cheek, a gesture which Azriel swatted away. 

“No special friend with you tonight, brother? Cash said it’s been a proper revolving door since you moved to LA!”

“Oh fuck off,” Azriel said, tone light even as his cheeks pinked. “You’re just jealous.”

“Maybe I am,” Rhys said, shooting Nesta a wink. “Champagne, Nesta?”

“Please,” she said, noting the bottle of $500 Armand de Brignac nestled in the closest chiller. Being around this level of wealth was going to take some getting used to. She seemed to sense that Rhys was waiting for her to take a sip, so she did.

“It’s lovely,” she said. “Thank you.”

Rhys grinned. 

“I’m so pleased you like it. Cash says you have a palette for wine that’s destined to put the rest of us to shame.”

Just then another dark-haired man appeared from the darkness, bending to speak quietly in Rhys's ear. Nesta noted the radio at his belt and the gun at his hip, and the way his dark eyes shone with an alacrity which told her he was stone-cold sober. 

When the man straightened up, Rhys gestured to him with a smile. 

“This is my bodyguard, Adan. Donnie, this is Cash’s better half, if you can believe that.”

“Nice to meet you,” Adan said, voice thick with a French accent. “Welcome to the court of nightmares.”

Rhys’s crushing blue eyes glittered as he laughed. 

“Nightmares? Brother, this is a court of dreams! Algerians take everything too seriously,” He added with a smile. “Relax, Don.”

Adan rolled his eyes and snapped a retort in French, though his body language suggested he wasn’t actually bothered. Rhys only laughed in response before offering a rapid reply in the same language.

“Shall we, then?” Rhys said, ushering Nesta forward while keeping his hand a respectful distance from her low back.

“Your timing is impeccable as always, Az,” Rhys said, dropping onto one of the low couches with a lazy grace before kicking his feet up on the glass table. “Even five minutes earlier and you’d have been forced to make small talk with the owner. The man’s a complete knob.”

“Sorry to have missed him,” Azriel said wryly, appraising the space with a designer’s critical eye.

Rhys seemed to note Azriel’s assessment, because he gestured to their surroundings and asked, “So, what do you think?”

Azriel’s lip curled in disgust, the most expression Nesta had ever seen him show.

“It’s fucking horrendous.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Rhys said with a grin. “Wouldn’t buy this place if it were free.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, though there was no malice in the gesture.

“If that’s true, then what are we doing here?”

“You mean besides running up an obscene tab on the ownership’s dime? We’re celebrating.”

Az simply rolled his eyes again, but Nesta shrugged. 

“I’ll bite; celebrating what?

“The successful culmination of a well-deserved revenge plot.”

“I’m officially intrigued,” Nesta said, and Rhys flashed her a bone-melting smirk.

“I thought you might be,” he replied, drawing a cigar from his inside pocket before lighting it and settling back into his seat.

“Six months ago the prick who owned this place called me wanting to see if we’d be interested in going in with his group on a joint venture for a new property they wanted to open in Miami. They’ve been wanting to break into the market but didn’t have the contacts to do it, so they were hoping I could provide leverage. I said I’d consider it, but the financials didn’t pencil so I thanked him for the offer but told him we were going to pass.” 

Rhysand paused to take a casual sip of his drink before continuing on.

“A few days later he pocket dials me. I was getting ready to hang up when I realized he happened to be talking about me to a colleague. Didn’t catch the whole conversation, but considering the fact I stayed on the line long enough to hear him refer to me as a ‘towel-headed terrorist”, I think I got the gist.”

The champagne she’d been enjoying moments earlier turned immediately sour in Nesta’s mouth. It wasn’t always easy being a woman—particularly in a chauvinistic, ego-centric industry like hers—but even with all the wayward comments and veiled jabs she’d endured over the years, she couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to be on the receiving end of that kind of ugliness. Glancing between Rhys and Azriel, she could see in their expressions the same bleakness she sometimes glimpsed on Cash’s face, a stark reminder of the realities of racism they didn’t have the privilege of ignoring. It made Nesta want to hunt this hideous prick down and bury her stiletto into his jugular.

Azriel, for his part, only gave an unamused snort, gaze going cold. “He should meet my brother Tanner. Sounds like the two of them would get along great.”

“Indeed,” Rhysand said, his own smile razored. “I won’t bore you with the gory details, but the long and short of it is that while he’s been kissing my ass the last three days thinking I’m interested in investing in this dump, my lawyers have been finalizing a deal to buy the property across the street.”

“So you can rub what an asshole he is in his face for the rest of eternity?” Azriel asked.

Rhys opened his mouth to reply, but Nesta beat him to it.

“You wanted him to open his books,” she said, reading Rhys’s cold smile. “You needed to see his balance sheet so you’d know what it would take to put this place underwater.”

He nodded, grin widening.

“Turns out that in addition to being an ignorant piece of shit, dude’s also an idiot,” Rhys said, smoke slithering through his lips as he took another drag from his cigar. “His distributor’s been fleecing him on booze. I already have a supplier lined up who’s willing to sell to me at cost, which means I will be able to charge 30% less per drink while maintaining the same margin. This place will be lucky to last six months.”

At this his crushing gaze met Nesta’s, and she couldn't decide if he was seeking her approval or illustrating the power he had to destroy people who crossed him. The fear that it had been the latter had the instinct to go on the defensive flaring, but Nesta forced the urge down, merely raising her glass to him instead. 

“All’s well that ends well, then.”

“I wouldn’t start gloating just yet,” Azriel said. “It’s gonna take more than cheaper drinks to thin this herd.”

He gestured to the packed throng of revelers below.

Rhys remained unruffled.

“True, but when have you ever known me to not hedge my bets?”

“Let me guess: you’ve convinced some Kardashian sibling to come on opening weekend and lie to their billion followers about how great it is.”

“Kardashians? You’ve got to learn to dream bigger, Azzy!”

“We’re not going to play twenty questions with you about it,” Azriel shot back mildly. “So either tell us what you’ve got up your sleeve or I’m changing the subject. Cash won’t thank you for boring Nesta to death within the first twenty minutes.”

Rhys laughed, undimmed by Azriel’s slightly-acerbic wit. It made Nesta like Rhysand slightly more than she otherwise might have, knowing that his wasn't the sort of ego that was so large it had grown inflexible.

“Conn agreed to a two-week residency when the place opens,” Rhys explained instead. “ People are going to forget this joint even exists when they find out he’s performing at such an intimate venue.”

Azriel gave an appreciative chuckle, clearly understanding who that was and what it meant. Nesta, on the other hand, didn’t have the slightest clue. 

Part of her didn’t want to give Rhysand the satisfaction of asking in the event he’d only brought it up as a means of making her feel foolish for not knowing. However, a glance up at him showed that the chilly gleam in his eye from earlier had softened to pure amusement, and she decided to play nice by saying, “I admit I don’t frequent enough clubs to know what that means.”

“If we said the name ConMan, would that mean anything to you?” Azriel asked.

Actually it did. ConMan’s signature was blending classical movements by Mozart and Bach with modern electronic music, and though Nesta wasn’t usually one for house or EDM, she admittedly had more than one ConMan track on her gym playlist.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re friends with one of the most famous DJs in the world,” she said to Rhysand, and he laughed again

“Actually I met him through Cash. They grew up together in Hawai’i.”

Now it was Nesta who wanted to laugh. In all the stories Cash had told about his childhood friends, including the twins—Fen and Connall0—he’d failed to mention that one of them happened to have a Vegas residency. She loved that about him, that he wasn’t one to drop names or lord his impressive friends over her.

“I don’t know how you feel about house music,” Rhys continued, “But you should come see him spin. He’s incredible on stage. Watching him perform, you’d never guess what a massive homebody he actually is.”

“I don’t know how he does it,” Azriel added, the whiskey stones in his drink clinking as he rotated the contents with a practiced flick of his wrist. “If I were Connall, I would have faked my own death years ago.”

“I do love that the two biggest introverts I know both ended up being famous,” Rhys said with a grin.

Azriel rolled his eyes.

“I am not famous.”

Rhys only bubbled his lips.

“Bruv, you were featured in Vogue. Give it up already.”

Recognizing that Azriel was currently her closest ally in the fight to win over Cash’s friends, Nesta decided to throw him a bone and redirect the spotlight by asking, “How well do you two know the Hawai’i boys? They seem like a fun bunch.”

“Nah, they're all assholes,” a voice echoed from beyond the gauzy curtain.

They all turned at the intrusion, Rhys whistling appreciatively and rising to his feet as Rowan Whitethorn cleared the last of the stairs and emerged into the lounge.

“There he is,” Rhys said. “Nice hair, brother!” 

Rowan grinned as he ran a tattooed hand through the grey strands, which gleamed silver under the club’s sleek lights.

Rhys was right; it was quite different than Nesta had ever remembered it looking. Though he still wore it in an undercut, the sides were now almost to the skin and the top longer and more ostentatiously styled, making him look less clean-cut and more...dangerous.

Nesta didn’t have to wonder too long at the change. When she’d asked Cash why he  hadn’t been seeing as much of Rowan—worried that he was still avoiding his friends because of her—Cash had made a vague remark about Ro’s current caseload requiring him to work extra hours. Seeing Rowan now, she suspected that ‘extra hours’ had actually been a euphemism for working undercover. 

Rowan only smirked at Rhys’s assessment, their vibe easier than Nesta might have imagined. But then, that was the magic of Cash; he could bring anyone together.

“I’m trying something new,” Ro offered coyly.

“I like it,” Rhys said. 

Rowan's smile grew a little, green eyes flicking up to Rhys’s own dark hair, which was styled in a similar manner.

“I bet you do.”

“I can’t resist a bit of drama,” Rhys admitted before glancing behind Rowan. “No Ace tonight?”

Rowan's face fell slightly even as he accepted a drink from Rhys and smiled at Nesta and Azriel in greeting. 

“She and NeNe were playing in a tournament in Latvia until yesterday, and her flight out of Riga got canceled because of staffing shortages with the airlines. Don’t get me started.”

For her part, Nesta couldn’t decide if she should be disappointed or relieved. She hadn’t been lying all those months ago when she’d told Cash she liked Aelin already. But after Mor...Nesta wasn’t sure how much hope she could realistically harbor that Aelin would ever like her back. 

She was saved from her self-improvised spiral by Rowan, who’d finished greeting Azriel and turned his full attention on her.

“Nesta,” he said, brushing a soft kiss on her cheek the same way Rhys had. “Good to see you.”

His smile was full of meaning, and she found herself flushing a little.

“You don’t seem...surprised. To see me.”

Didn’t seem disappointed, she didn’t need to say. She could see in his eyes that he knew what she meant, and the way they softened at the corners told her that he was genuinely glad she was with Cash, even after all her mistakes.

“Can’t say I am,” he said, accepting a whiskey from Rhys with a nod. “I had faith you two would...figure it out when you were ready.”

“I’m sorry Aelin’s not here,” Nesta said, hesitating for only a second before admitting, “I was looking forward to finally getting to meet her.”

“She’s gutted to have missed it,” Rowan said. “If there was any way she could have been here, she would have.”

Rhys and Az traded a furtive glance at this, but before Nesta could worry at what it might mean, Rowan flashed a soft smile, the sincerity in it putting her at ease.

“It really is a shame she’s not here,” Rhys said as they resettled. “I like to think she would have really appreciated the unholy douchbaggery of this place.”

“That’s because she’s a godless hedonist,” Rowan said, expression neutral but tone full of affection. “Why do you think she likes hanging out with you so much?”

“You’re just lucky you met her first,” Rhys shot back easily.

Remembering how Rowan had reacted when Eris had dared to make a comment about Aelin, Nesta half expected Rowan to clap back. Instead, he only grinned, clearly at-ease with this dynamic.

“Please,” he said, taking another sip of his drink. “You two would tear each other apart.”

“Agreed,” Azriel said mildly. “She’d have your sensitive little ass in tears the first time you got into a disagreement.”

“Fuck you both,” Rhys said, grinning now too. 

Friends, Nesta realized. These three, despite all their perceived differences, were genuinely friends in their own right, even when Cash wasn’t around.

“Honestly, Sadeghi,” Rowan said, “I can’t wait to meet the girl you end up with. She's going to need the patience of a saint to deal with your…”

Rowan trailed off, head cocking towards the new song currently building in the space below. Nesta didn’t recognize it, but it was hypnotic and dark, admittedly a lot better than the manic-tempo shit they’d previously been playing.

Rowan remained on alert, listening intently, and finally Nesta asked, “Is everything alright?” 

“This is Ace and NeNe’s warmup track,”Rowan said, seeming almost dazed. “Connall made it for them specifically after Aelin complained women's sports don’t get the same pre-game hype.”

“How annoyingly true,” Rhys said with an almost-theatrical frown.

Despite his disapproving words, Nesta didn’t miss the undercurrent of self-satisfaction in Rhys’s tone.  Rowan clearly hadn’t missed it either, because his head instead snapped back to Rhys, his expression caught between confusion and excitement.

“Is this you?” He said, gesturing to the speakers.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Rhys said, blue eyes glittering with delight.

Rhys’s reaction, despite meaning absolutely nothing to Nesta, seemed to confirm something for Rowan, and he leapt to his feet.

“No way,” he said, a smile growing on his face now. “Even you couldn’t pull something like that off.”

Rhys pretended to buff his nails on his lapel.

“Couldn’t I, though?” He said with exaggerated self-importance before gesturing to the dance floor below with his eyes.

Rowan leapt up, running to the balcony to peer over it. Still unsure of what the fuck was going on, Nesta followed, reaching the balcony just as the beat dropped, everyone in the crowd seeming to pulse in time with the music. 

That was, everyone but three people, who were instead cutting a distinct path away from the stage and towards the roped-off stairs.

Even if Nesta had not recognized the gorgeous blonde leading the trio, Rowan’s reaction to seeing her would have been enough to tell her who it was.

Rowan was in motion at once, abandoning his drink on the nearby table and taking the stairs two at a time. He ignored the belch of fake fog which exploded around him as his foot reached the last stair, because by that time the blonde had noticed him as well, and in two long strides she was in his arms, the hem of her tight dress riding dangerously high as she wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him.

“Nice work, brother,” Azriel said, extending his knuckles to a preening Rhysand. “Wasn’t sure you were going to be able to pull it off.”

By now Rowan and Aelin had finished their steamy reunion and were heading back up the stairs, Aelin tucked comfortably under Rowan’s muscled arm as they continued to grin at one another.

Finally Rowan turned back to Rhys, laughing a little.

“You sneaky bastard! All those questions about Ace not being here when you knew full well she was already on her way!”

“You know Aelin tears are my kryptonite,” Rhys said, winking at a beaming Aelin. “When she called me crying earlier saying her flight had been canceled, how could I leave her stranded, especially when I knew my father’s jet was sitting idle in London?”

It was then that Rhys finally came into greater focus for Nesta. If Cash was the group’s unifying thread, weaving all the disparate personalities into a single, tight-knit clan, then Rhys was its magic wand, trailing sparks through the air and achieving the seemingly impossible with a flick of the wrist. 

It would have been easy to attribute it to his extreme wealth, but watching him now, Nesta could see it was more than that. Yes, money had a way of making big problems seem small, but the finesse with which Rhys handled roadblocks told her that he was neither as frivolous nor as rash as he liked to pretend.

And he hadn’t just done it to prove he could, Nesta realized. He’d done it knowing what even one extra day together would mean for Aelin and Rowan, and so that Aelin wouldn’t have to miss out on this rare opportunity for them to spend time together as a group. It was clear watching them interact how much they all meant to one another, and how much they cherished any time they got to spend in one another’s company. More than friends, it was clear this group was more like a second family, even scattered as they were across the globe. And it was all because of Cash.

Nesta watched the joyous reunion unfold without comment, feeling so caught up in the moment that she’d nearly forgotten her own outsider status. It wasn’t until Aelin finished greeting the others that Nesta remembered herself at last, the same anxieties which had plagued her all week swelling with renewed urgency.

A quick glance over Aelin’s shoulder revealed wary expressions on both Rhys and Rowan’s faces, as if they too weren’t sure how this meeting would play out. 

It was only when Aelin’s stunning blue eyes fell on Nesta that the latter realized how badly she wanted this woman to like her, despite all the legitimate reasons Aelin—like Mor—had to dislike her.

To aate her even.

It was too late for all of that though, as Aelin was making her way over, her slinky gown glittering like molten gold under the lights. Nesta guessed that even barefoot Aelin must have been over six feet, but she towered close to Rowan’s height in her spindly heels, making Nesta feel positively minuscule in comparison. 

Still, she did her best to steel her nerves, unsure whether to extend her hand as she forced herself to meet Aelin’s gaze and say, “I’m Nesta.”

“I know,” Aelin said, not extending her hand either.

Unease sluiced through Nesta as she tried to decipher Aelin’s tone. However, before she could worry about what to do next, Aelin continued.

“I know we don’t really know each other, but…” she paused, glancing over her shoulder at Rowan before turning back to Nesta and continuing,  “Can I hug you?”

It wasn’t what Nesta had expected, but she nodded, extending her own arms with a slightly-strangled, “of course.”

Aelin pushed forward at once, pulling Nesta to her as if they’d been friends all their lives. It wasn’t the overly-tight embrace Nesta had feared, and she found herself immediately inundated by the fresh citrus scent of Aelin’s perfume.

When they pulled back, Nesta found Aelin smiling at her, no calculation or contempt on her face.

“I want to thank you again for what you did for Nehemiah,” she continued. “We were in a proper panic until you stepped in.”

“I was happy to help,” Nesta said, grateful for the warmth in Aelin’s tone, even if she wasn’t sure she deserved it. “I’m just glad it worked out.”

“It did. Thanks to you,” Aelin said, tone full of meaning. 

Nesta nodded and made to step away, terrified she might ruin the moment by saying the wrong thing. However, Aelin reached forward to grab her hand, giving a soft squeeze as she leaned forward, voice pitched low as she said, “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Nesta admitted, pausing before adding, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a long time.”

“Me too,” Aelin said with a smile. “We all have.”

Nesta could barely contain what those words did to her—how they soothed all the jagged self-loathing she’d harbored over the last several months. Aelin seemed to read the lingering pain on Nesta’s face, because her own smile dimmed slightly.

“She’ll come around,” Aelin said simply. “Just give her time.”

Nesta didn’t need to ask who Aelin was referring to, but she nodded, grateful beyond measure for Aelin’s kindness.

Not wanting to monopolize Aelin’s attention, she turned back to the rest of the group, which now included two more men she didn’t know. 

Though they’d yet to be introduced, it was clear from their piercing blue eyes who they were. 

The Ashryvvers, Aelin’s maternal cousins.

The blonde was the first to notice Nesta, and his answering smile was deceptively mild as he nodded to her in greeting before leaning over to his cousin and whispering—perhaps a bit louder than he’d intended, “Ella está buena.”

Despite her parents’ insistence, Nesta’s Spanish had never been nearly as good as her Portuguese. However, it was certainly good enough to understand when a man was checking her out.

Flustered, Nesta tried to keep her expression neutral. It wasn’t that she was offended; she just wasn’t sure how to proceed without embarrassing Aelin’s cousin and possibly offending Aelin herself in the process.

Fortunately for Nesta, it seemed that Aelin had also overheard what had been said, and she reacted with no hesitation.

Quick as an adder, she slapped the blonde soundly upside the head and hissed, “That’s Cash’s girlfriend, you ignorant doorknob!” before flipping into smooth, clipped Spanish and adding, “Y ella habla portugués; puede entenderte. Sorry,” she said, turning back to Nesta with an apologetic smile. “You’d honestly think these two were raised in a barn. These are my cousins, Aedion and Galen.”

“Why am I being scolded?” Galen, the darker-hair one, asked. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it,” Aelin sniffed at him. “So you’re just as bad.”

Galen rolled his eyes in defeat and turned to make himself a drink, but Aedion only grinned, seemingly unruffled by Aelin’s rebuke as he extended his hand to Nesta.

“Lovely to meet you,” he said. “Cash is a lucky man.”

“Knock it off,” Aelin said, pushing his hand aside as she steered Nesta away. “She’s probably gotten enough of that from Rhys already.”

“Me?” Rhys said, laughing. “What did I do?”

“Plenty, I’m sure,” Aelin said, blowing him a kiss. “Besides, I thought you saved the worst of your shameless flirting for me!”

“Don’t encourage him,” Rowan said.

“Don’t get possessive,” Aelin lobbed back, flashing him a tarty smile over her shoulder. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

“God, I’ve missed you,” Rhys said, grinning appreciatively at her.

“Then move to California already,” Aelin said, pouring herself a glass of champagne before topping off Nesta’s glass as well. “Then you can annoy Ro to your heart’s delight.”

“It’s tempting,” Rhys admitted. “But I wouldn’t want to encroach on Az’s hunting grounds.”

Azriel, who Nesta expected to clap back the way he usually did when someone brought up his love life, simply raised his glass in answer.

“Be my guest. You and I have very different taste in women.”

It was a testament, Nesta decided, to how comfortable Aelin’s arrival had made her, that she actually debated actually asking Azriel what his type might be. However, after a moment of consideration she decided not to push the issue, if only for fear of upsetting the delicate but promising balance she’d struck within the group.

She thought of how it had felt watching Cash meshing with her own friends, and she hoped he would be similarly pleased when he saw how easily she’d seemed to find her way with his. Because they’d all gone out of their way to accept her, even after what she’d put Cash through. Being here with them, it became dangerously easy, in fact, to imagine what a future amongst these people might look like for her. 

Before tonight, Nesta had been apprehensive to plan too far ahead where she and Cash were concerned, afraid to get her hopes up while things with his friends remained so much in the air. Hard as it had been, Nesta had promised herself when they’d started dating that she would never let herself come between Cash and the people who were most important to him, even if it someday meant making the difficult decision of letting him go so he wouldn’t be forced to choose.

She supposed she’d never forgiven herself enough to actually imagine they might accept her the same way Cash had. Sitting amongst them now, listening to them talk and laugh as if they didn’t all know how selfish and broken she’d been, her heart felt full in a way even she didn’t have words for.

“Boo, we’re out of champagne!” Aelin said, pulling Nesta from her reverie as she shook the empty bottle upside down and pouted in Rhys’s direction. “Please tell me we don’t have to flirt with the horrible owner to get more.”

“No champagne?” a familiar voice called, sending Nesta’s heart soaring into her throat. “What kind of shit party is this?”

Nesta leapt up in time to see Cash emerging from behind the gauzy curtain, a huge smile on his face. A cheer went up at his appearance, but he only had eyes for Nesta, stringing an arm around her waist as she approached and pulling her close.

“Miss me?” He asked, brushing his nose against hers as he grinned.

“A little,” she said, stroking a hand down his cheek. 

Before she could ask how the dinner went, Rhys interrupted with a laughing groan.

“Guess I’m going to have to order the expensive stuff, now that Kahukore is here.”

“No need,” Cash said, pulling a bottle from behind his back. “I brought my own.”

Nesta recognized the crest-shaped label and laughed.

“You got it?”

Cash grinned.

“They offered me the job on the spot. I fly to Paris next week to sign the papers. Here Sadeghi, this shit is bougie enough to get even your spoiled ass excited. Dom P3 Plentinude Brut, a gift from the personal wine cellar of Dom’s COO.”

“This beauty spends 20 years aging on its lees, and you want to share it with these animals?” Rhys asked.

“Good point,” Cash said. “We better open before I change my mind.”

Divesting the bottle of its cage with practiced ease, Cash held his thumb to the cork to keep it from accidentally popping off before offering the bottle to Nesta.

“Will you do the honors?”

She gently pushed the bottle back towards him.

“You’re better at it than I am,” she said.

“True,” he said, grin widening as she bared her teeth at him. “But I wouldn’t have gotten this job if you hadn’t pushed me to apply, so this one’s all you.”

“Nes-ta! Nes-ta! Nes-ta!” Aelin chanted, the others joining in until Nesta finally accepted the bottle from Cash, applying pressure to the cork before it finally came loose with an expert kiss of sound.

They all cheered again, Cash pouring a measure into the fresh glasses Rhys had produced before raising his own, Nesta still tucked comfortably into his side.

“Oscar Wilde once wrote, ‘pleasure without champagne is purely artificial.’ Since I’m not one to argue with the greats, I’ll simply say, here’s to genuine pleasure, friends!”

Another cheer went up as they all clinked glasses and took a sip, Nesta nearly moaning as it hit her tongue. It was even better than the bottle of Armand de Brignac they’d opened after Nesta’s trial, every carefully-cultivated flavor dialed to 11 by the lengthy aging process.

“What do you think?” Cash said quietly, studying her reaction with delight.

“Perfection.”

“Just like you, then,” he shot back easily.

Instead of sniping back like she normally would have, she merely smiled, leaning up to kiss him.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said quietly.

“Thank you,” he said. “For making me go tonight. It would have been a mistake not to.”

“No thanks necessary,”  she replied firmly. “Since there was no way I was going to let you miss it.”

“Things have been going...well here, I take it?”

She took a minute to compose herself, glancing down into her glass before meeting his eye again.

“The only thing that would have made it better would have been if you’d been here.”

He studied her face, seeming to relax as he read the calm contentment on hers.

“I’ve told you a million times; to know you is to love you, Nesta Archeron. Anyone who refuses to see that is truly blind.”

Nesta's heart stuttered a bit at that, both at the compliment and the reminder that there was still work to do when it came to repairing all the damage that had been done. Still, that was a problem for another day. Tonight, they were celebrating. 

xx 

It was Nesta’s phone which woke her the following morning, the annoyingly-bright chime alerting her there was someone at their front door. She turned over to wake Cash, intent on making him fetch whatever package had been dropped off so she could continue sleeping.

She was fairly certain she was going to be hungover for the next month after the bender they’d embarked on the night before, and she didn’t plan to get out of bed until she had to leave for work on Monday. Maybe not even then.

Blindly reaching for him, she found his side of the bed cool, and when she’d gathered the strength to open her eyes, she swore to find a note instead of the mass of naked man she’d been expecting.

Gone to the gym with Ro to sweat out the demons. Take the Advil I left you. &lt;;3 

She swore again at realizing he wasn’t there, and a third time for good measure when the doorbell chimed again.

“Just leave whatever it is and go!” She yelled, even knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell the delivery person could actually hear her.

When the door chimed a third time, Nesta groaned and hauled herself to her feet, slugging down the Advil and nearly falling down the stairs in her attempt to reach the front door. 

Dredging up whatever decorum she could muster, she smoothed her rumpled hair and fought down the urge to snap at the overeager UPS driver who’d thought it was appropriate to ring the doorbell three times on a Saturday morn—

Nesta felt herself go pale as she wrenched open the door to find that it wasn’t a delivery at all. It was Mor, looking fresh as a daisy and distressingly composed when compared to what Nesta was sure she must have looked like. 

A beat of horrifyingly awkward silence reigned before Nesta regained her wits enough to say, “I’m sorry, Cash isn’t home right now.”

“Actually,” Mor said, “I came to see you.”

The panic must have shown somewhat on Nesta’s face, because before she could manage a reply, Mor pressed on.

“I would have been here sooner, but apparently Rhys lent the jet to Aelin, so I had to fly commercial.”

When Nesta still didn’t reply, Mor shifted slightly, the first sign of discomfort she’d allowed to show.

“I know it’s early for a social call, but I thought—would you like to come to breakfast? I know a great place in Portrero Hill. My treat, of course.”

Nesta, for all her usual composure and aplomb, remained speechless. When she finally opened her mouth, the only thing that came out was “Why?”

“I was hoping we could...talk,” Mor said. When Nesta made no move to reply, Mor continued, “I wanted to apologize for yesterday, and for us to hopefully...start over.”

After another hideous beat of silence Mor seemed to relent, nodding as she stepped back, gaze falling to her feet.

“But I understand if now is not a good time. I’ll just let you get back to—“

“No,” Nesta said finally, making up her mind. If Cash could forgive her for the mistakes she’d made and allow her to move on from them, the least she owed him was to offer Mor the same chance. “I’d like that. I just need to—” she glanced down at herself. “I could be ready in twenty minutes, if that works.”

“Yes!” Mor said, eyes lighting up. “Take your time, I’ll come back in an hour.”

Mor was already heading for the stairs, and Nesta considered the courage it had taken to extend this olive branch before deciding to extend one of her own.

“Would you like to wait here instead? I can make coffee.”

Mor’s smile went from edged hopefulness to soft relief.

“I’d love that.”

@that-golden-lyre @aspidenchantress @annedub @so-chill-mochill @verypaleninja @bookofmaas @katexrenee@mightymorphingayagenda @tswaney17 @keshavomit @subhuman-queer @123moiaussi @b00kworm @sezkins79 @marnz @wesupremeginger @toallthefandomsivelovedbefore @rhysanoodle @actuallyacotartrash @empress-ofbloodshed-writing @superspiritfestival @donnarosemary @regolithheart @kingdomofbrokenhearts @mariamuses @verifiefangirl-mainblog @awesomethreedragons @awesomelena555 @kayak34

[all-pacas]

self indulgent headcanon post: secret retcon sister edition

Daniela Maria Chase. She's gone almost universally by Ellie or Ella since she was little: Chase tends to call her Danielle. It's an old defiant habit: their father called her Ellie and little teenage Robbie was like no her name is Danielle, you don't get to call her a cute nickname if you're not here for her. (But he got it wrong, her name's Daniela.) Meanwhile she has called him Robbie since she was old enough to talk.

Ella was pretty young when her mother died, which isn't to say that her addictions and neglect didn't affect her. As with Robert before her, their mother would lock Ella in the nursery to "get her out of the way;" unlike Robert Ella never really knew or remembered her mother sober, has no good memories to draw on, just a vague terror of a very sick woman.

Robbie got the Good Looks gene. Ellie looks okay, they’re still related and all. But nowhere near his prettiness level. They don’t look alike generally; they take after different parents. But they are both blonde.

Oddly, Ella got along alright with Rowan. Because she was a girl, he had much lower/fewer expectations of her (sexism win!) and because of her age he took her in after her mother died. He still wasn't a great dad by any means. They kind of just ignored one another. She got along okay with her step-mother, too, who is one of those rich ladies who loves a good Society Dinner and Fundraiser.

Robert did his best but wasn't a good parent to Ella either. Obviously he should never have expected to be. But he was fifteen and barely coping and fifteen.

So she ended up growing up to be incredibly independent, capable of fending for herself, but also deeply prone to self destructive behaviors. If Robert is bad at relying on others, Ellie is 800% worse. She essentially emancipated herself at 17, got a job, lived on her own, never married (because relying on people), does everything Herself.

But she also periodically self destructs. She is an addict. She's an alcoholic. She self medicates and does stupid, reckless, attention seeking things, it all spirals, she checks herself into rehab, she's fine for a few years and then does it again. She was also cut out of dad's will — not a surprise, she was a complete non-entity to him and didn't even go to university.

Robert sends her money sometimes. (When he was pulling double wages in S2, she'd just been sent to rehab and he wanted the extra money to help her out.) He is the one tentative exception to the I'll do it on my own clause: Ellie will still do it on her own, thanks, but she doesn't mind him "lending" her money or buying her groceries or making her "on her own" thing easier.

Around 2010 — in her early twenties — she has a kid. Dad is not in the picture and never was. She and Robert have a huge falling out about this, he quite bluntly thinks she can't keep her life together and is being irresponsible and stupid (and flashing back to his own childhood). She has a boy. Chase has never met his nephew. They didn't speak for a couple years after.

Ellie tries to be a good mother. She stays clean, she works hard, she's actually quite proud of herself for "making something of herself." She really resents Robert as much as she does intellectually know he did his best and shouldn't have been responsible for her. But from her perspective, he abandoned her. He's rich and successful and a famous doctor (and Rowan probably was the type to compare her to him, even if he'd never once praise Chase to his face). He has it sooooo easy. And yet Robert is constantly lecturing her, telling her what to do, doubting she can make it on her own. In her mind, Ellie came from nothing and made something of herself, where Robert was given what he has.

But she does love him. And has fond memories of him. And is proud of him and his success! They just… do better with low contact. They always end up arguing. Robert sees Danielle and just feels guilt and is reminded of everything that was bad in his childhood; Danielle mostly was too young to remember the worst of it (and what she does remember is good times with her brother), and resents him for leaving.

Cameron absolutely reached out to Ella as soon as she learned she existed. She picked up the name Danielle from Chase, and no one told her it wasn't technically correct. Ella was immediately suspicious of Cameron's motives, but quite liked her. She thinks it makes perfect sense the marriage only lasted a few months, since obviously Robbie is a huge fucking loser. (She's told him so to his face, that Cameron was way too good for a stuck up asshole like Robert. He will never ever tell her about Dibala.)

Her son's name is Noah Robert Chase. His uncle has no idea.

[toasted-valentine]

TAOPP Things That Make Me Insane

• Rowan reaches out to Maya during Love and Everything during the line “I wish I’d learned that lesson sooner”, he spent his entire life refusing to listen to anything Maya had to say, and in the end he wishes he’d went with her. That breaks my heart.

• Rowan examines Jason’s crown in Love and Everything during line “Maybe no one’s shown you mercy”, he’s addressing Maddox during this, and he’s thinking about how King Astor harmed both of them.

• Rowan telling Louis to let him go and let his scars heal during Love and Everything, Rowan tilts up Louis’ chin, but doesn’t kiss him. It’s the two finding peace and a call back to Crown of Bones and Lead.

• This is a super nerdy theater thing, but TAOPP does this a lot due to the limited cast, and I want to point it out. Maya and King Astor are both played by Miel Escamilla, they just are him in shadow during act two. You can tell it is them because Miel is the only person in the cast who has short curly hair and it’s really distinct. Having them played by the same person adds the implication that Maya looks just like King Astor, and that’s part of the reason Rowan hated her so much.

• Back to them using the small cast to the full advantage, during Your Day in Court you can see the different actors reading out lines related to their characters while playing The Courtiers. Maya actually dances with Maddox’s actor and Jason dances with Louis at one point, but they’re shoved away from their respective dance partners back into each other’s arms to show that’s they’re being shoved into a heteronormative relationship.

• During Your Day In Court, Rowan’s actor and Louis’ actors start the song handing each other, foreshadowing.

• The line “Leave the metal tight around your finger till it aches” within Talk About It With You is referencing how trapped Jason feels by his relationship with Maya, the engagement ring being physically painful to wear.

• Miel can’t wear the fucking courtier mask cause of their glasses, which makes me laugh.

• There are two different versions of Your Day In Court on stage, one of them has Louis wearing a courtier mask, the other he is not. I think they removed it for the sake of making it clear that it’s just Louis being a courtier in that moment, not just some rando. Louis participating in The Courtier’s song implies he’s just as much of a gossip and threat as the rest of them, which I appreciate.

• Louis’ costuming has him wearing a single earring, which is a common flag to signal a man is gay. Love that for him. Funny part is the fact he has it in the wrong ear lol, it’s in his left, should be on the right.

• Louis’ costuming has him wearing a fuck ton of rings in the beginning, visually calling back to Talk About It With You. Rowan also has rings on, indicating he is a whore.

• Maya is shit talking with Jason in the background during When You’re Small, and the two of them are the one’s who send the plate over to Louis to get under his skin. You can see Maya and Jason laughing about it in the background.

• Rowan’s party has BDSM gear hanging in the background, which is hilarious. This implies someone had to either go buy all of it or pull it out of their closet for the show, which is really funny to me. Imagining some college kid going to a sex shop for props has got me chuckling.

• The strap on harness in the background implies that it is canon Rowan gets pegged.

• The Bohemian played by Miel steals the glass away from the Bohemian played by Andrew Matos, and when Louis walks away the two start bitching to each other.

• Rowan is conducting The Bohemian’s singing, he later mentions they’d do anything he asks, fun visual storytelling.

• The captions of Louis telling The Bohemians that “Some activities are best confined to one’s bed chambers” has their little “aww” reaction end with a :(

• Maddox being willing to kill a rat is what we call foreshadowing.

• Lana Gaige and Miel Escamilla both have the funniest visual gags in the show, their character acting just makes me laugh, especially when Maya and Rowan get to banter and bounce off each other. The eye shadow that Lana is wearing makes them a lot more expressive, and it helps emphasize their facial acting.

• “That’s treason” is the funniest line in the entire show.

• Rowan and Maya both have the bad habit of being very rash and pushy, the difference is that Rowan acts outside the system while Maya tends to act within it. The two are foils to each other in many ways, and in the context of Maya being the older sibling, you can see their difference in maturity levels.

• Maya and Maddox being separated by bars helps them have an emotional connection, it helps her break generational curses that her brother fell into, since Astors apparently are just massive slutty mcsluttersons that managed to give fantasy birth control a reason to exist. Rowan is repeating his father’s tendency to sleep with many others, this being shown via Maya being an affair baby.

• Jason steals Louis’ earring, and I think DeLaney Rose actually missed the throw of it, cause you can see them try and catch it and hear it hit the floor.

• The implication that Jason wanted to join Louis and Rowan, but the first reason he could come up with as to why not to is being engaged makes me laugh.

• “Might as well give it a stab” is a hilarious line and I love it.

• “Even in this cut throat— place.” Love that too.

• Rowan tilts Louis’ chin up right before Blood Moon, this gets brought back up later in Crown of Bones and Lead.

• It is mentioned someone tried to poison Rowan during Your Day In Court, which failed, and the fact he saw his mother get poisoned has the implication he knew how to spot poison and that’s why it failed.

• Rowan engages in double talk, the act of saying something that can have two different meanings and be confusing, during Blood Moon with the bastard lines. Foreshadowing.

• The choreography of Blood Moon has Rowan physically manipulating Louis and touching him in vaguely homoerotic ways, good show that Rowan is being manipulative and pushing his own worst traits onto Louis.

• Rowan makes note of Louis’ hands within Blood Moon, which is a show of his tendency to only remember his lover’s hands.

• Rowan cuts his own hand during Blood Moon, cut’s Louis’, and later on Maya pricks her finger on the same knife. Rowan is willing to get blood on his hands, Louis’ is manipulated into it, and Maya is willing to do it once for Maddox. Their different levels of willingness to have blood on their hands is such a nice detail.

• Maya fucking forgets she bought Jason his dagger, home girl is completely checked out of that relationship. Louis corrects her multiple times on Jason facts actually, she’s so uninterested in him that she doesn’t know these things in spite of knowing him for multiple years, but Louis is in love with Jason so knows about it all.

• Maya uses honeybees as a sign of freedom, mentions them multiple times, and says “Where the only queens are bees!” as the ending line to Dead Princesses go to Heaven.

• You can see Jason standing outside of Rowan’s room when Louis and Rowan are having pillow talk, dude is just standing there in the back.

• Miel motherfucking Escamilla actually cuts their hair off on stage in front of everyone, you can see people reacting in the background to it, and I have so much respect for that acting choice.

• Maya taking interest in Louis’ waistcoat is a nice little sign that they’re some flavor of genderqueer and prefer to be masc presenting, this implies that she regularly looks into men’s clothing, and that’s why she takes interest in it.

• Maya finding out Louis’ gay could potentially be a reason she’s willing to tell him about Maddox during Dead Princesses go to Heaven.

• Maya corrects Louis into calling Rowan her half-brother right before Dead Princesses go to Heaven, but right after Rush of Blood to the Head she calls him her brother, showing that she’s grown attached to him.

• Maya has her engagement ring on the wrong hand (for western audiences anyways), visual touch that she doesn’t love him.

• Miel has to tiptoe to hug DeLaney at the end of Dead Princesses, which makes sense story wise since Maya is supposed to be bigger than Louis, but the actors are similar heights. Fucks up the when you’re small bit if Louis is above Maya.

• Maya swearing like a sailor as soon as she talks to Rowan is so funny to me, cause that’s how siblings actually talk.

• You can tell Rowan and Maya are related as soon as they start plotting to get Jason killed by the king lol

• Rowan grabbing Lous’ hair comes back later on, but Jason protects him, and it’s a nice show of what it really means to love someone. Hair pulling is something common within sexual relationships, Rowan goes for Louis’ hair first, while Jason goes to protect Louis at every turn.

• Maddox’s tendency to be overly careful is such a funky detail, it escalates over time, and is implied to be a trauma response to being imprisoned. Later on they are pushed by ghost Rowan to act, and it helps them be a better lover to Maya. The two of them balance each other out, Maya having classic Astor bullheadedness, while Maddox is more calculating and careful than she is.

• “Or I could blow your head off” Maddox will later kill Rowan via third degree burns.

• Maya keeps looking in her bag and kicks the dress away right before It All Just Makes Sense because she’s packing her bags, but doesn’t want Jason to be a snitch.

• Maya makes fire metaphors during It All Just Makes Sense, which later shows that she’s not afraid of getting burned by Maddox and is willing to still love them after they kill Rowan.

• Maya and Maddox do kill and die for each other, Maya fakes her own death and Maddox kills Rowan for Maya.

• Jason is referred to with Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, the idea that someone who spends their entire life in a cave staring at a wall wouldn’t know what life is actually like due to not seeing the light.

• Jason has autism, which is really nice tbh. Only Louis really gets that Jason isn’t a prick, just sees things differently, and that Jason is lovable.

• Rowan’s drinking problem is visually seen right before Old Friend, he’s drinking and tries getting Maddox to with him, but Maddox declines. It’s a completely visual thing, but good visual storytelling that Rowan has a problem.

• Rowan calls Maddox a firebrand, which has two meanings in this context. There’s Maddox being a mage that uses fire, but also the literal meaning of firebrand, which is someone who is exceptionally dedicated to their cause. It has a double meaning to the character.

• Maddox’s cause switches from legalizing magic to saving Maya, they’re still a firebrand, but have a new cause to dedicate themself to.

• Louis leaves the room right before Rush of Blood to the Head because he said he wouldn’t help Rowan kill Maya, not just because of the alibi.

• Jason’s excited expression right after Talk About It With You hurts my feelings, heelllpppp.

• You can tell that Maya is an Astor based on the fact her first instinct after seeing Maddox for the first time outside a cell is to try and jump their bones.

• The script getting completely ditched when Maya and Maddox reunite is funny to me, they just completely yeet the thing lol

•I like that Maddox and Maya are able to have an emotional bond before a physical one, again as a foil to Rowan and Louis, showing that they love each other first the foremost.

• “Charmed, I’m Maddox.” Again, love that line.

• Rowan does in fact haunt Maddox after his death, like he said he would within the opening line of Rush of Blood to the Head, but it’s to help them.

• I like that Maya is packing her bags during Rush of Blood, and Rowan spends Maddox’s part staring at the dagger and conflicted emotionally. Rowan is also completely wrecking the room, the actor pantomiming knocking stuff over like Rowan said he would.

• Remember, in a Melliot production, always listen to the lesbian. The lesbian gives the best advice, the bisexuals give bad advice, but the lesbians are frequently right.

• Maya not finding a point in waiting relates back to her earlier sentiments, nice touch of how two characters can both be brash and quick to act, but their motivations for it can completely change the outcome.

• It’s Allies with Benefits instead of friends because the two aren’t even friends, Louis just sees them as allies, and Rowan doesn’t really have friends.

• The Courtiers speak of Maya’s death in past tense, while they speak of Rowan’s affair with Louis in present. They skipped over Maya’s death as basic palace gossip fast.

• Rowan focuses completely on Louis’ body instead of anything about his personality, even when he’s complementing Louis, he’s talking about Louis’ eyes. Louis offers Rowan the chance for an actual emotional connection, but Rowan just focused on his body.

•Rowan’s voice is higher pitched when singing about something he actually wants, but lower when faking it. He’s faking masculinity for the king, and actually does this when asking for Jason’s life to be spared.

• King Astor puts a bunch of stuff in Maya’s casket, but none of it is stuff Maya actually gives a shit about, showing how he fundamentally doesn’t understand his daughter. He doesn’t love Maya, he loves the idea of a perfect daughter, and pushed her to be that.

• I like the implication that Maya’s hair was supposed to be long during act one, but she cuts it all off in act two. It’s nice she gets to be a masc and happy about it.

•Maya takes her makeup off for act two, having white eye liner on during act one, but it’s gone during act two. It’s a really sweet thing.

• Maddox says that worst case scenario is a warlock blows Rowan to bits and that start all over again, and Maddox later kills Rowan, and the new kings are Jason and Louis.

• Maddox literally hiding in a closet to avoid Rowan and Louis fucking is so funny.

• Rowan is projecting so hard within Allies with Benefits (reprise), calling Jason manipulative and telling Louis that he should only love Jason’s body. He’s trying to take the Jason role, but failing since he’s an abusive prick.

• Louis wears pink on his coronation day, being allows to just be himself instead of what someone else wants.

• Rowan is constantly trying to get Louis to “fix” him, thinking Louis could make all of it go away, but no one needs that much help. Louis can’t make things go away, and Rowan’s expectations are unrealistic. I love the message that it’s okay to help your partner, to be there to support them and make things better, but there is a line that no one should cross. Rowan crosses that line, it isn’t love, it’s infatuation and lust.

• Louis is so worried about killing Rowan, he’s begun to wish that Rowan is dead, and he chooses to do the right thing instead of continuing the cycle of death and abuse.

• The crown that King Astor has on when he slaps Rowan is the same one that Louis lifts off Rowan’s head during When You’re Small, and it’s a flag that Rowan and the king will both die. Maya doesn’t ever wear it, and she gets to live.

• There was only one bed

• Jason considers what Louis’ wants and respects Louis’ consent, it breaks the cycle Louis is stuck in, and helps the two have a healthy relationship.

• Maddox warns of guards walking in on Rowan stabbing his father, and that’s exactly what happens. The way they mess with each other foreshadows Maddox killing Rowan, the plan getting interrupted and Maddox blowing Rowan to bits.

• Rowan is right in his assessment that him and Maya are similar, but loses the fact that Maya is completely dedicated to Maddox, which differs from what he says to Maddox.

• I do think Rowan has grown to care for Maya on some level, which is why he still is secure in wanting magic legalized, at least when he’s talking to Maddox about Louis.

• Rowan’s character arc is continuing the cycle of abuse, he becomes just his father by being an abusive drunk, and becomes just like the people who only sexualized him instead of being a good lover. Heart’s Blood shows that Rowan has a similar issue to Louis in the fact he is constantly being used for sex, but he doesn’t see the fact that he is doing it to Louis now. Even the song’s name is a show that Rowan doesn’t understand Louis and the fact Louis doesn’t what a blood revolution, Louis can’t stand blood or violence, while blood is Rowan’s entire thing. He’s using Louis, and Rowan’s big love song is him wanting ownership over Louis’ body and dousing that white in red.

• Heart’s Blood also uses double talk within it’s lyrics with describing Louis both feeling “burning, clawed, and drowning.” Rowan would feel it as a positive thing, a thing of love, while it would be a complete trap for Louis. He is misinterpreting what Maya believes, turning it twisted, and harming Louis in the process. He reflects on this later as a ghost, seeing how wrong he was.

• Rowan’s confession speech to Louis is possessive and has a desire of ownership of Louis, and it’s Rowan being selfish. He sexualizes Louis, is only willing to give up drinking for Louis instead of being sober for himself, and he doesn’t even both knocking. The refusal to knock is Rowan once again missing the fucking point.

• “You whore!!”

• “It’s not :(“

• “I thought you were STRAIGHT Jason!!”

• Jason puts his hand on Louis’ shoulder instead of tilting his chin up, nice physical acting.

• I like that If I Knew You Then doesn’t involve Jason or Louis’ physicality, they’re allowed to be interested on one another on a deep level.

• Rowan calls the King dad to be petty, but he’s also desperate for some level of his approval, for anything. It’s why he begs King Astor to say anything, he’s still a kid that wants some level of approval from a parent. If memory serves, Rowan is the youngest person in the roster, and he never got the chance to emotionally mature like everyone else.

• Louis is willing to fight for Jason in the same way Maya and Maddox are willing to fight for one another, something Rowan would never do for Louis. Louis’ fear of death disappears the moments he knows Jason needs him, he is willing to make a sacrifice for his love.

• Rowan is wearing white in the end, a new start.

• This next section is just me praising the actors lol

• Alex Conboy’s performance as Maddox during Can’t Hold Back The Tide amazing, the amount of emotion in their voice is such a skill, and they deserve so much praise for it.

• The level of breath control Lana Gaige must have to sing the little death song as Rowan dies is impressive. They already are an impressive performer, absolute power house on stage, and all the numbers they’re in always strike just the right chords. Sing whispering, on the ground, softly, and having to sound like they’re crying without actually crying is a testament to their skill. Trying to combine all those things is such a difficult thing to do, but they did it because they’re Lana Gaige and they’re an absolute demon on stage.

• DeLaney Rose broke my goddamn heart as Louis, just went right and stomped on it, and just right in my feelings. Crown of Bones and Lead is their best performance in the show, and it makes me cry.

• Andrew Matos as Jason does straight guy prick and autism gay man really well, you can see the natural progression of Jason’s character and how he changes through the show. Absolutely adore it.

• Miel Escamilla committed to the bit with the hair cutting, and I have so much respect for them for that. Some of the notes they hit during the show are amazing, and being able to do priss and prim mixed with “I’m five seconds away from backhanding you” is really nice, and I love their performance as Maya.

[platearmourpiglet]

Tiny little update that combines infos gathered from a patreon update and one of Rowan’s recent streams:

Alan is taking a bit of a break right now, which is why he's not been seen in a lot of bts that’s come out, and we probably aren't gonna see him in Bored for a while. So I'm guessing he took the current white shirt saga/Karen 3 arc as an opportunity to have some time off.

Also! They've actually been filming some Bored both in the tavern and at Howick, you can see one of the historcial buildings they've used in RDR logic in the background. So that’s exciting, unusual news!

And lastly, I've seen some people jump to conclusions that Alan is leaving Bored or even VLDL just because he hasn't been as visible in the recent bts. People. The man is a father of two. The work at viva is not a comfy 9 to 5 job, the stress especially during filming blocks is insane. Now and then he needs a longer break. So that’s one thing. But also, even if he somehow miraculously wanted to quit viva (which would be insane, it's a literal dream come true and an absolutely incredible achievement AND opportunity for him), I don't think he can financially afford to abandon it. They're probably pretty deep in debt from buying the studio, kickstarter or not, and I don’t think there are that many job opportunities for him on the market that would actually allow him to quit and come out even. So at the end of the day I think he neither wants, nor can quit. In that way he's very different from Broed Alan.

[legacyshenanigans]

Random Rowan info dump 🐺🤍

The more time Rowan spends in werewolf form, the more feral his behaviour is, and it takes him longer to come back down to "normal" after shifting back into his human form.

Sometimes, Rowan likes to go off and go on hunts for days, and he'll spend that whole time in his werewolf form. Once he returns to his life of being around society, it takes him a little while to act his usual self again, I mean, Rowan has animal like traits even when "normal" but its more evident if he's spent a while in his wolf form.

For example, he'll still move around like a werewolf, crawling and stuff, and he has to remind himself that he can stand up straight and walk normally 🤣

His alertness is also even more heightened during times when he's been in wolf form for a while and is trying to come back down from it. EVERY little noise, EVERY little scent he picks up sends him into a hyperfocused investigation even when it doesn't really have to.

He tends to be more twitchy too, when he's coming down from a longer shift. Because he has to get used to being back in this human body again.

Sleeping habits are also something he has to get used to again. He'll decide to sleep in the strangest places rather than being on his bed, which is literally THERE for him to be comfy and use, but he'll hide somewhere or under something to sleep for a while.

Eating is another thing. Rowan has learnt to enjoy and really love human foods. But after spending a lot of time in werewolf form he'll revert back to enjoying raw meat for a little while and feeling like he has to hunt for his food, which he doesn't have to do once hes back at the Den and around folk, so Marvolo buys big joints of raw meat in bulk for him during these times, so Rowan can just help himself. Noises while he eats is another thing that is more obvious during these moments of his, like growling and snarling while he eats.

(Side note: Its NOT pretty watching Rowan eat raw meat, its something he doesn't like others seeing him do during his "come down" times, so he'll make sure he's alone when he's sucking the blood and juices out of a chunk of raw meat before chewing and tearing at the dried up flesh)

He just finds it a little hard to revert back to what he's gotten used to (being a member of society) After hes spent days like this:

[leiawritesstories]

1778 (My Soldier Boy)

Rowaelin Month, Day 28: Wartime Sweethearts AU

A/N: this might just be the most American thing i've ever written lmaooooo 😂😂 so here's the context: the fic is set during the American Revolutionary War, which took place from 1776-1781. Rowan is a soldier in the Continental Army (the American side) and Aelin is the only daughter of a Loyalist (sympathetic to the British) family. and they're star-crossed lovers, yay!! posting this partially as a lil birthday treat to myself but mostly for you, hope you enjoy :))

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: archaic language (i'm a nerd lol), mentions of war, old outdated traditions, mentions of battle, brief mild angst, flirting

enjoy!!!

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

16th July 1778

Heart of my heart,

I write this in secret, barely able to make out my letters by the faint light of this single candle. I apologize for the sloppiness of my script; my governess would have a fit if she were to see this chicken scratch. Of course, I would then retort that she ought to have taught me to read and write in near darkness, as that is the more useful skill these days. 

A few words, my love–we are leaving in three days.Yes, leaving! Mother has only said that it was what she and Father thought best, given the current…unrest. I am perfectly capable of reading the unspoken words. We are leaving because they fear what our neighbors might do while we sleep. We are leaving because the English are so hated here. We are leaving because nobody has seen or heard from my brother in months. Nobody save me, that is. I know where Aedion went, and I know what he is doing. 

If you love me, Rowan, please send word that my brother is safe, that he is well clothed and has some form of roof over his head. Please. It will calm my nightly worries at least a small bit. 

I do not know where we will go, only that we cannot make a scene of our leaving. We must pretend that we are only going into town like we typically do, except that our cart will be full of our belongings, rather than grain and butter to trade. I suspect we shall attempt to head east, towards the port at Baltimore, and from there we shall attempt to book passage on a ship. Father seems convinced that returning to England is the best course of action. 

I do not want to leave. 

They do not know that, nor do they care. It breaks my heart to admit it, but they do not. They expect me to keep quiet and obey. I have heard them discussing the possibilities of our lives once we return to Mother’s family estate in England–marriage. My marriage. To some titled landowner’s spoilt son, who gives not a whit what I want or who I am as long as I can give birth. I refuse to subject myself to such a fate. 

Rowan, my love, I write this both as news and as a warning. I will not silently accompany my parents in their hasty retreat. I cannot abandon my brother in the middle of a war, nor can I leave you, the other half of my soul. 

I will be waiting for you, my love. I swear it. 

To whatever end,

AAG

~

Heart in his throat, Captain Rowan Whitethorn marched in step with his regiment up the muddy road leading into Baltimore. The bustling port city was largely unmarred by the war that continued to rage on, continuing to serve as major sea access for traders and soldiers alike. As he and the men that called him their leader entered the city proper, Rowan breathed a short, soft sigh of relief. They had two weeks of leave, unless they were called back into battle, and he fully intended to use those two weeks to the fullest. 

“Enjoy your leave, men.” He saluted. “We shall regroup here in two weeks.” The blue-jacketed men broke ranks and ambled into town, most of them probably dispersing to the nearest pleasure house for a good strong drink and as many hours with a woman as their few remaining coins could buy. Rowan didn’t begrudge them their pleasure. 

After years of war, they all needed whatever solace they could find. As did he. 

Fingers instinctively wrapping around the small, precious bundle of letters in his jacket pocket, Rowan strolled towards the calmer part of town, the residential section not so crowded with soldiers on leave, traders, merchants, shouting vendors, and all the rest of the noise, chaos, and diverse cast of characters that populated a thriving shipping town like Baltimore. He glanced at the street markers as he walked, searching for the one with a blue stripe painted around it. 

There. 

Pulse hammering louder than gunfire, he turned down that street and walked past tidy clapboard houses interspersed with the occasional grocer, butcher, baker, and seamstress. He was certain every single one of the handful of people he passed could hear his thundering heartbeat, but none of them had said anything to the young man whose ragged blue jacket marked him an officer in the Continental Army who was walking up their quiet street like it was perfectly normal for him to do. One motherly lady had simply offered him a smile and a “thank you, son,” which had struck him right to the heart. 

He emerged into a busier street, full of shops and taverns and public houses, the businesses bustling but not crowded with soldiers and sailors like the cheaper taverns down by the wharf were. Eyes scanning the signs, Rowan walked up the side of the street. The building he was looking for appeared suddenly in front of him. A brightly painted kingsflame flower adorned the pub’s wooden sign, its carefully wrought petals the work of a singular artist. An artist Rowan knew as well as his own heartbeat. 

With his heart in his throat, Rowan walked into the pub. Immediately, a peal of soft, faintly raspy laughter caught his ear, and his attention snapped to the bar at the back of the softly-lit, cozy space. Behind the well-worn oak bartop, her golden hair tied back with a blue rag that he recognized as his own old shirt, stood the woman who owned every last shred of his heart. 

Aelin Galathynius glanced over towards the door, and the whole sky lived in her vivid eyes. 

Tin clattered against the bar. 

Surprised grunts arose from a table full of stocky, gray-haired farmers. 

And with a rush of air and a strangled gasp of his name, Aelin was in his arms, tears glittering in her eyes, warm and solid and real and clinging to him as if her life depended on it. 

~

He was here. 

Rowan was here, whole and healthy and standing on his own two legs in a much-patched blue jacket and dirt-stained trousers and battered boots, and his eyes were on her alone. 

Aelin flew across the pub floor and all but leapt into her soldier boy’s arms, clinging desperately to him as if he would vanish unless she held him tight. She buried her face in his shoulder and drew in a deep lungful of his scent, the faint trace of mountain pines clinging to him even beneath the layers of sweat and grime. Hot, salty tears of joy leaked into his shirt through a tear in his jacket’s shoulder. 

She felt his deep, familiar chuckle rumble beneath her ear. “Why are you crying, my love?” 

“I’m crying,” she sniffled, raising her head to meet his adoring gaze, “because you smell so bloody awful that my eyes are watering.” 

He tipped his head back and laughed, loud and unrestrained. “God above, I missed you.” 

“I missed you more,” she returned, tracing her thumbs along the sharp juts of his cheekbones. “Every day felt like the longest one yet.” 

“I’m here now,” he murmured in the soft voice he only used for her. 

With tears pooled in her eyes, Aelin leant an inch forward and kissed him, her soldier boy, with all the pent-up fervor of the last several months. She’d been so terrified when her parents announced that they were leaving the Colonies, afraid that she would be uprooted from the life she’d come to love and forced to marry some stuffy lord and shut away in a manor house forever. The very idea that she would be forced to leave Rowan, her love, and Aedion, her brother, without knowing whether either of them would make it back to Baltimore unharmed was enough to disrupt her sleep. She had hardly dared to hope that her desperate escape plan would work until she stood on the pier and watched her parents’ ship depart without her on it. 

Every long day of pouring pints of beer for rowdy sailors, handsy soldiers, and disruptive drunken no-goods was worth it to have her soldier boy back in her arms. 

“Where–ah, Rowan!” Breathless, Aelin poked him in the ribs, pretending to disapprove of the promising way he kissed her throat. “We’re in public.” 

“Let’s fix that, shall we?” He set her down onto her feet, caught her hand, and grinned. “I believe I need a bath, my love. Could you help me with that?” 

“You are incorrigible,” she laughed. She pecked a quick kiss on his lips and led him out of the pub and down the streets, turning into a quiet neighborhood and leading him up the front steps of a tidy little brick cottage with a blue front door. “Please be kind about the mess.” 

“I’ll show you a mess,” he whispered into her ear, far too tempting for his own good. 

She flushed, her cheeks staining bright pink. “Rowan!”

“Aelin,” he mimicked. They were safely inside the house, so he looped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against him. “I’ve been dreaming of you for months, love.” 

“And you’re going to bathe before you act out any of those dreams, my love.” Giggling, she ducked out of his embrace and led him down the short hall to a washroom. “The tub is full, but it might be cold.” 

“I don’t care if the water is cold.” He shrugged off his jacket and stepped out of his boots. “It’s a hell of a better bath than we get in the army.” 

She sighed fondly. “I’m still going to boil some water.” He made to protest, and she placed her fingers over his mouth. “Ah-ah, soldier boy. Let me spoil you. Besides, the hot water is half for your filthy clothes.” 

“Fine,” he acquiesced. He shed the rest of his dirty, worn clothing and climbed into the tepid bathwater, groaning quietly as he sank into a proper bath for the first time in too long. “Join me, love.” 

“Soon.” She kissed his forehead and dropped a washrag and a bar of soap into the tub. “When you stink a little less.” 

His playful growl followed her all the way out to the front room. 

~

Following the bath–where she had indeed joined her soldier boy and taken his mind off the weight of war for a few moments–and a hearty dinner, Aelin exchanged her regular blouse and skirt for a soft cotton nightdress, braided her hair, and settled into bed with a lantern lit on the side table and a novel in her hands. Rowan was in the washroom; the faint splashing of water indicated that he was scrubbing out his uniform like he insisted he wanted to. So she opened her novel to the page where she had last left off and lost herself in the tender romance unfolding amidst the pages. She was so absorbed in the novel that she didn’t notice the mattress shifting as Rowan climbed into the bed and settled down beside her. 

His soft, low chuckle drew her out of the novel-world. “Good story, Ae?” 

“Wonderful,” she murmured. Reaching the end of the chapter, she placed the bookmark, closed the book, laid it aside, blew out the lantern, and tucked herself into his side, her head against his chest. 

“I missed you,” he whispered after a peacefully quiet interval, stroking one hand idly up and down her back. 

“And I you.” In the faint moonlight, her eyes met his, months of pent-up yearning and uncertainty glossing their turquoise depths. “I am sorry I didn’t write more.” 

He soothed her worry with a gentle kiss. “I would likely have found you before your letters found me. ’Tis the life of a soldier.” 

She hummed in agreement. “On that note…when did you last see Aedion?” Her older brother, whom she loved dearly but whose rashness she did not ignore, had vanished from the Galathynius home early last spring, leaving no indication of where he was going or why. Aelin alone had an idea of what he had gone to do, because he had confided his wishes to her. He had gone off to be a soldier in the Continental Army, but his unit were scouts, which meant that he could be anywhere between Philadelphia and Yorktown. 

Rowan exhaled a long, controlled breath. “The last time our paths crossed was in September, at the camp outside Newport. He mentioned going south, but no details.” 

“South.” Aelin rolled the idea over in her mind, forcing herself not to consider the harsher implications. “Was he…how was he?” 

“Healthy, as far as I could tell, and tired, but so are all of us soldiers.” Rowan ran his hands along Aelin’s tense shoulders, encouraging her to relax. “He said to give you his love and that he’ll do unspeakably horrible things to me if I hurt you.” 

Aelin laughed. “Now that sounds like Aedy. Too protective for his own good, he is.” Idly, her touch trailed along the slope of Rowan’s shoulders, tracing the new scar that slashed from his right shoulder down towards his pectoral muscle. “Tell him that I will return the unspeakably horrible favor if either one of you does anything stupid.” 

“Indeed I shall.” Laughing softly, Rowan pulled Aelin flush against his chest, her heartbeat atop his, and kissed her. She sighed into the kiss, threading her fingers into his overgrown hair. 

“I don’t want you to go back,” she murmured after they had separated. 

He swallowed thickly. “We both know I must.” 

“I know.” Her voice was a fragile thread. “I’m keeping you all to myself for the next two weeks, though. It’s only fair.” 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you, my wildfire.” 

She smiled tenderly at him. “I love you too, my soldier boy.” 

~

Mid-November, 1778

Aelin, 

I apologize both for the shortness of this note and the fact that it took me so bloody long to write it. There is something I must tell you, and I can only hope that you hear it from Rowan rather than me and my paltry excuse for a letter. 

We are marching to Savannah. Intelligence has it that the Redcoats intend to advance upon the city, and we cannot let the stronghold go without a fight. 

I cannot promise that I will be able to write for any amount of time, and as much as I hate to do this, I leave you all my affection. I will stay as safe as possible, that I can promise. The moment I am able, I swear on my blood that I will come to you, and if possible, that I will bring Rowan. 

Stay strong for us, dear sister. 

Yours, 

Aedion

The short note had reached her in late January of 1779, after three and a half months of ever-increasing tension and worry spurred by the grim reports coming up from the South. Before he left in mid-November, the same time Aedion’s letter was dated, Rowan had revealed that his unit was headed to Savannah to reinforce the troops already there. He had been confident that, with the extra reinforcements, the Army would be able to stave off the British–if not all on their own, then at least long enough for the shipment of French troops to arrive. 

Just before the New Year, the newspapers reported Savannah’s defeat. 

Since then, all Aelin had received was silence. No letters, no notes, nothing listed in the papers, no weary soldiers showing up on her doorstep. The fact that Rowan’s and Aedion’s names remained out of the papers was but a small measure of comfort; all too often, fallen soldiers’ names never made it onto the listings. 

The cloth tying back her hair was black now, the only outward sign of suffering she would allow herself. The people who came into the pub noticed her quiet demeanor, the way her usual vivacious cheer was dampened, and passed quiet condolences to her across the worn oak bartop–a squeeze of the hand, a mourning mother’s shared tears, a word of comfort, a “thank-you” from someone who rarely spoke those words. It lifted her spirits a bit, but not much. 

Every night, she trudged home to her quiet little house, cradled a small watercolor portrait of Rowan–done a year ago, it was the only portrait she’d ever convinced him to sit for–stared down into his painted face, and refused to let her captive tears fall. Though her heart and soul ached for her soldier boy, though her sleep was disturbed by nightmarish imaginings of what could have happened or could be happening to him, she refused to let her tears fall until she knew his fate for certain. 

If nothing else, she owed him--and the child just beginning to stir inside her womb--that fragile hope.

~~~

TAGS: please lmk if you want to be added/removed or if tags don't work :)

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 24

Fic masterlist

I’m so happy to get this one out!! I’ve been thinking about this chapter for an insane amount of time. Enjoy!

Warnings: sex shop stuff

Words: 3,3k

Of all the times Rowan listened to his dumbass coworkers out of curiosity, he never thought he’d follow through with any of their advice. Yet, there he was, in the rope section of Doranelle City’s newest sex shop.

At first, he couldn’t believe that an old small-ish supermarket closed, and in its place someone opened a giant adult shop. Then, Rowan couldn’t believe he came here to check what the fuss was all about. He had more than enough confidence to stand tall while checking the most bizarre aisles, but he wasn’t used to picking and choosing vibrators the same way he did his groceries.

Still, regret was the furthest thing from his mind when he saw the lingerie section.

There, hanging between lots of blacks and reds, a scrap of golden fabric caught Rowan’s attention. After hurrying there with his basket, he took a good look at it. The tag said ‘three-piece embroidered lace garter lingerie set’, but he was struggling to understand where each part went. All he saw was so many straps around the sheer lace that was the actual lingerie, and gold. Not yellow—real, metallic gold.

This. He just found the perfect, most selfish apology for those ripped panties.

Getting the bra sizing right was a struggle, though. Rowan squinted at his hand, muscle memory mimicking how it grabbed Aelin’s breast, and tested the different sizes on his palm.

It was almost time to go, so he made his way to the clit vibrator section. Aelin’s only one was attached to a penetrative stimulator, and while it was great, it didn’t quite fit this specific idea he had in mind.

However, right before entering his aisle of choice, Rowan spotted an awfully familiar blonde head.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Retreat.

He stood where Aedion couldn’t see him and checked the time. A little more and he’d be late, which wasn’t an option. Rowan was going to pick Maisie up at school alone because Aelin wanted to take a nap after work—he couldn’t afford to wait until Aedion left.

In a bold move, Rowan entered the aisle, standing on its end while the other man was in the middle. He wouldn’t be able to see everything, but hopefully enough to pick what he needed.

Still, he kept an eye on Aedion, briefly glancing at him every now and then while looking at all kinds of clit suction vibrators.

In one of those times, Aedion was already looking at him. Shit.

For once, he was glad that the families didn’t know about his relationship yet. Aedion had no idea that he was here with ravishing Aelin in mind, and the last thing Rowan wanted to know was the purpose of the other man’s… purchases.

Turquoise eyes met pine-green, but he still looked around to see if the Aedion was looking at someone behind him. Nothing. They were alone in this aisle, staring at each other for what felt like ages.

Rowan took a step forward. “Hey,” he said in a stiff greeting.

“Hey.” Aedion’s greeting was almost a wince. “You…”

“Just buying some stuff.” Rowan’s neck felt on fire with embarrassment as he played nonchalant. He hid the chosen purple clit sucker deep inside his basket, as if the man beside him hadn’t seen it already. “For myself.”

“Same.” Aedion’s unusual lack of words was a relief.

Rowan eyed the vibrator and anal beads inside the man’s own basket. Well, good for him.

˜˜

“YOU’RE SORRY!” Maisie shouted on the garage floor, trashing in her father’s arms.

“I’m not, love, you can’t play drums while your mother’s asleep.”

The little girl screamed louder, tears streaming down her already puffy face. After a lot of improvised, unpolished drumming sessions, Rowan and Aelin enrolled her in weekly lessons. While they encouraged the little girl to keep practicing, her learning process was hard on their eardrums.

It broke Rowan’s heart to see Maisie like this, but work has been running Aelin ragged lately; he couldn’t allow their daughter to play when her mother was finally letting herself rest.

Still, the little girl threw herself on the floor, then threw a drumstick at her father. The wooden mallet hit him in the chest, and though it didn’t hurt at all, its weight wore down his thinning patience.

Who. The fuck. Gave. This child. Drums.

He drew a deep breath to calm himself, but it didn’t stop his Dad Voice, as Aelin would call it. “Maisie Whitethorn,” he chided, “if you throw another one of these… forking sticks at me, you won’t see them again for a helluva long time, you hear me?”

Defiant as the day she was born, Maisie held her head high despite the teary eyes, squared her shoulders, picked the same drumstick off the floor and threw at Rowan again.

That’s when the unwavering patience he reserved for his daughter snapped.

Blood boiling, he threw her over his shoulder—her five-year-old body was lighter than a potato sack anyway—and left her in the garage, ready to put her in time-out for eternity. Maisie trashed, likely hurting his back as she did it, but it was hard to pay attention to it over the pounding on his ears, caused by anger and her shouting both.

“What’s going on?”

Aelin’s voice coming from the living room stopped him short. Rowan took in his girlfriend’s messy hair and slightly puffy face from her nap on the couch; his heart sank with the realization that she woke up anyway, and it was his fault.

“I told her to stop the drums so you could sleep, then she threw the drumsticks at me and is about to get grounded for eternity.”

Aelin gestured for him to pass Maisie over at the same time the little girl wiggled out of his grip, even with her head on Rowan’s back, away from her mom; it sometimes stunned him, how in sync these two were.

She sat with their still crying daughter on her lap. “Maisie, we don’t hit the people who feed us.”

“Or anyone,” Rowan added, eyes hard.

He was a firm believer that, sometimes, violence happened to be the last and only resource to resolve things. It wasn’t a good lesson to teach a little kid, though, especially when she could think that a minor conflict at the playground required extreme solutions.

Aelin wiped out Maisie’s tear-streaked cheeks and combed her hair out of her face with her fingers, showing a gentleness she rarely showed for people outside her family. “Do you understand why we’re upset with you, honey?”

“Daddy said I’d be in trouble if I threw another stick!” The girl’s high-pitched voice cracking and raspy as she tried to defend herself. “I didn’t! I threw the same one!”

Rowan’s mouth fell open as he felt disoriented with his daughter’s Aelin-like defense. If she was like this at five years old… he didn’t want to think about what would happen in ten to twelve years.

“Maisy Daisy,” Aelin warned in a calm yet alarming tone. “You know you shouldn’t have thrown that stick at all.”

“We can’t find loopholes for hitting people,” Rowan added, still stunned, and looked at Aelin. “She’s still getting grounded. Maisie’s not playing anything if she acts like she was raised in the wilderness ”

“But I didn’t throw another stick!”

Aelin winced, and from her looks she seemed to say she has a point, Buzzard. A sigh. “What about cutting drumming time in half this week?”

Maisie gaped, outraged.

Rowan tilted his head, pretending to think this through. Reducing something instead of cutting it off usually worked best in his family, but he still threatened with the worst option for impact. When suspended something completely, if Maisie didn’t convince her father to suspend the punishment at all—which completely weakened his authority in the long term—she’d have several more meltdowns they couldn’t avoid because she was still learning to regulate her emotions.

“Sounds reasonable,” Rowan finally said.

However, Maisie shook her head. “I don’t like that.”

Aelin snorted. “You’re not supposed to like your punishment, honey.”

They settled in the living room when Maisie cooled down, her and Fleetfoot playing in the mat as quiet Rowan could expect a kid and a puppy to be.

He and Aelin stayed on the couch, her soft body resting half above him, in a drowsy state.

“It’s almost dinnertime,” he said. “We could order pizza.”

Aelin’s only response was a grimace, but Maisie’s loud cheer made her agree to it.

Rowan would be lying if he said it didn’t bother him. For days now, her sleeping and eating patterns were off, and it could only mean one thing: a depressive episode.

He knew it, because he studied it. He had every sign engraved in the back of his mind, alert for when she needed him again, to not let her down again. Ready to be there and support her in any way he could, Rowan just didn’t think she would be the one to evade him.

He thought they were better at communicating, better than this, but each time Aelin shut him off and said she was feeling emotionally good, just a little tired even if all signs pointed otherwise, his heart sank with doubt.

“Hey, Buzzard.” Aelin ran a thumb over the crease between his brows, where a frown must’ve formed at some point during his musings. “What got your feathers all ruffled?”

Well, since she asked, he might as well tell her. “I—“ Rowan’s eyes zeroed on Maisie. This wasn’t something to discuss in front of a little kid. “Mais, it’s almost time to go to your mother’s. Can you go pack your bag?”

“No,” the little girl said, plain and simple as if his request wasn’t a polite order.

Aelin sat back, leaving their cuddling position with both brows up. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll go pack my toys to go to my other house, then Dad’ll go with us, and we’ll do the same things we were doing before, but in another house. Every. Time.” Maisie’s brows remained drawn together, her little arms crossed. “I’m so tired from packing my toys that much.”

Rowan and Aelin both froze, staring at their daughter after this bomb she just dropped. To be fair, Maisie was completely right. They kept the same custody arrangement as before, but one parent would follow the other to be together, so the three of them were basically going from one house to another.

He could point out that packing a bag of toys wasn’t nearly as much work as the packing her parents did, but Rowan didn’t want to argue with his daughter because he agreed with her. They were so worried about maintaining a steady routine for Maisie, they weren’t expecting her to point out that this arrangement made no fucking sense anymore.

And most of all, Rowan really wanted to take a bunch of next steps with Aelin.

“We’ll take this into consideration,” Aelin said, reluctant. “For now, you’ll still have to pack your toys.”

Maisie got up and complied, but not without grunting a few complaints, Fleetfoot hot on her heels.

The second their daughter closed her bedroom door, Aelin jumped on Rowan, trapping him with both arms on the couch.

“She’s right, you know?”

Rowan snorted. “You’re taking advice from a child now?”

Looking oddly invigorated by how Maisie brought up the subject, Aelin was undeterred. “Let’s move in together.”

Yes. Rowan opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again. “I thought you wanted to take things slow.”

The three-month mark she requested to tell people about their relationship was so close he could taste it, but no matter how much Rowan wanted to test her boundaries, he couldn’t. She was the one to request them, which made him question this sudden change of heart.

An adorable blush creeped up her neck and cheeks. “Because that’s the responsible thing to do. Don’t you hate being responsible sometimes?”

Rowan chuckled, amused, because not being responsible was never an option for him, the only exception being when it came to Aelin. Still, they weren’t two twenty-somethings moving in together on a whim to share rent. They had logistics to discuss, Maisie to think about, and their on-base housing that would be incredibly hard to regain if either of them gave up on it.

He kissed the bony tip of her nose. “We can talk things over until we’re ready, yeah?”

And by that, Rowan meant that he just wanted to wait long enough to be sure she wasn’t crossing her own boundary in an impulse decision she’d regret later. He was so fucking ready to move in with her for real and stop ironing his uniform at 5:30 a.m. because it got rumpled in his bag.

Aelin nodded, eyes intent on him. “Sure. That’s where we’re headed, right? Moving in together, I mean.”

“Fuck, yes, we are,” he said while giving her a crushing hug.

With a silly grin, Aelin cupped his face and kissed him. It was sweet and shallow, since they were smiling too much to deepen it, but Rowan loved it. Every kiss with her, every time, it blew his mind.

However, they were brutally interrupted by a high-pitched scream, painfully loud in a way only horror movies could muster—and Maisie, apparently.

The little girl stood rooted where the hallway met the living room, panicked green eyes widened with the sight of her parents making out.

“Why— WHY’DYOUKISSDAD!?”

Aelin slowly detangled herself from him, and Rowan’s mind was going a mile a minute. Of all the parenting preparation he did, no one ever taught how to explain to your child that you’re dating their mother.

“I was kissing your father because we’re in a relationship now.” Aelin’s voice was gentle, but it left no room for argument.

Rowan added, “We were planning to tell you soon.”

Maisie was still frozen in place, and he felt like beating himself for letting his daughter find out about his relationship this way.

“Honey, I—“ Rowan scratched the back of his neck, feeling his face heat. One might think they were two teenagers getting caught by their parents, but it was actually two thirty-somethings explaining themselves to a five-year-old. “Your mother and I, we’ve been very close lately. Sharing a bed. Are you actually surprised that we’re dating?”

Maisie narrowed her eyes on her father. “I share my bed with Fleetfoot. That doesn’t mean anything.”

“You’re right,” Rowan agreed, determined not to taint her innocent way of thinking. “But we’ve also been spending all our free time together. You see us cuddling plenty and—“

“I thought we were cuddling all the time because we’re a family and we love each other, not because you’re boyfriend and girlfriend! Ew!”

Aelin leaned closer to her on the couch. “Maisie, love, can you tell us how you’re feeling?”

The little girl eyed her mother’s phone on the coffee table, grabbed it and ran away, locking herself in the bathroom as quickly as she could.

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose. He was so throughly fucked.

The day Maisie learned how to call her grandmother, he knew he’d never know peace again.

He sighed. “I think she—“

“She absolutely is.”

Rowan met her gaze, slightly panicked, and stared at her grin with no small amount of confusion. Something about him made her burst, so she held onto his arm, shaking and losing her breath with laughter.

“That’s not funny!” He looked between his girlfriend and the bathroom door that hid his distraught daughter, not knowing what to do.

“Come on.” Aelin leaned on him, her outburst subdued. “It is a little.”

Rowan relaxed back on the couch, letting himself think about what happened in a different light, and the corners of his mouth quirked up. “The way she never suspected anything…”

“Ugh!” Aelin hugged him tight. “I want her to stay this little forever.”

“She did grow up too fast,” Rowan said in a pensive tone, and it made him think about how much he wanted to watch other tiny people grow up with Aelin. One thing at a time, though. “She’s likely telling my mother everything before the three-month mark, and—“

“Your mom will tell everyone she knows.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“It’s okay. I mean, we were close to the mark already, but…” Aelin closed her eyes and breathed deep, a small smile on her lips as she finished. “I feel great. It’s not how I wanted to do it, but I feel like it was about time.”

“Okay.” Rowan kissed her cheek. “I’m okay with it if you’re okay with it.”

Aelin caressed his face with her thumb. “I’m very okay with it.”

Her face was a breath away from his when his phone rang.

Mom

Aelin mouthed good luck at the same time he took the call.

“Rowan Whitethorn, you are in so much trouble.”

“Is that so?” he asked, unbothered by his mother’s dramatic antics.

“I cannot believe I have to learn from Maisie that you’re dating again!”

“I couldn’t hide it forever, it’s not my fault Maisie ruined the reveal we—“

“Every night, I prayed to Mala for you and Aelin to get together—for years, Rowan. Years! And when it finally happens, you can’t even bother to let me know…”

He tuned his mother off when his daughter left the bathroom, looking calmer, and sat facing her mother.

“Maisie’s here. I’ll have to hang up.”

“I’m not finished—“

He hung up.

Sitting back beside Aelin, he asked, “Do you feel like talking now, Mais?”

The little girl crossed her arms. “Are you married?”

Rowan’s eyes bulged out. “No—“ He sneaked a quick glance at Aelin. “I mean, not yet. Why’d you ask?”

His daughter hummed. “So you have a kid and you’re together, but you’re not married?”

“Yes.”

“This is weird,” Maisie mused, sitting on an armchair before them. “You tell me that people choose boys or girls to have kids, puppies or kittens with, until death or divorce; but you mixed it up and you’re doing it all confusing.”

Rowan winced. “I’m painfully aware of that.”

Aelin cleared her throat, focused on Maisie. “My relationship status with your dad might’ve changed, but nothing about you ever will. You will always come first, and we’ll always love you very much, no matter what. This doesn’t change anything for you.”

“Anything?” Maisie asked, perking up.

Aelin slowly nodded. “Anything.”

“Do I still get two Yulemas gifts?”

Cackling, Aelin squeezed her daughter in a hug. “I don’t know,” she said in a playful tone. “Rowan, does she still get two Yulemas gifts?”

“Huh.” Rowan tilted his head, pretending to think hard while a warm feeling spread through his chest. “I don’t know, I guess she’ll have to wait and find out.”

Aelin winked—she knew that being an only child and only granddaughter on both sides, Maisie was spoiled rotten by her family on Yulemas. “Any other requests?”

“No kissing!”

Aelin gasped. “No kissing?” she asked in a dramatic, almost theatrical way for her daughter’s amusement.

Maisie shook her head. “Nuh-uh!”

The mother pouted. “Then how am I going to do this…”

Next thing they knew, Aelin was pecking quick kisses all over the little girl’s face, earning those high-pitched squeals he adored so much. Rowan watched that scene, grinning and with a familiar tingling in his chest, when his phone rang again.

His mother, of course.

He showed Aelin the screen. “I should take this before she books a flight.”

“Sure.” She bit her lip, looking unsure. “She sounded angry before.”

“Actually, this is her best-case scenario for my love life. She’s just upset that I didn't tell her sooner.” Rowan kissed her cheek. “I’ll be right back,” he said before leaving to answer this phone call that could take anything between 20 minutes and 2 hours.

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