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Ben Sims & Mark Broom - Circular Motions EP [Hardgroove, HARDGROOVEDIGI018]
Our Saturday selection: Ben Sims & Mark Broom – Circular Motions EP [Hardgroove, HARDGROOVEDIGI018] Ben Sims and Mark Broom drop split EP for Hardgroove. The UK Heavyweights’ ‘Circular Motions’ EP features two new tracks from Broom and three from Sims’ vaults. A master of the drummy groove, Broom opens the EP with ‘Nothing to Do’, a propulsive track that counterpoints its powerful drum track with…
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Mark Broom - Myth (Absent Remix) (2017)
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No More Jesters, vol. 7, a two-parter this time, in which we explore the structural integrity of the cucumber (with a cameo from your friend and mine, Fatberg)!
#digital drawing#no more jockeys#alex horne#tim key#mark watson#no more jesters#that's presumably the same broom key uses to cook with#someone help him please
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DID YPU GET THE BROOM CLOSET ENDING
Not sure what yer' talkin' about, but I do take most of my breaks in there!
#tbh if all my coworkers went missing id just sit in the broom closet too#hot man yelling at me in my brain (i am going insane)#also why is mark taking his breaks in the broom closet#rp#rp blog#mannequin mark regretevator#regretevator#regretevator roblox#regretevator mannequin mark#mannequin mark#roblox regretevator#roblox#🪚.mmark
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i wanna continue my invincible rewatch So Freaking Bad but i told myself i'd hold off till i finish this dumb fic 😔
#we're coming up on 10000 words 👍#mark grayson why are your daddy issues so COMPLICATED...........#if i dont crank it out by the end of this weekend i'm batting myself with a broom#willow whispers
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BAM! It's witch-time >:3
#magic#witch#magicalgirl#artwork#blackdress#blue#broom#claws#demon#digitaldrawing#dragongirl#dress#fluffy#horns#hybrid#longhair#markings#oc#shiny#sona#sparkly#spikes#wolfgirl#original_character#own_character#glowing_effect#halloween2024
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take the translation with a grain of salt because it might not be perfect but the Famitsu article where the DLC was announced gives this little premise summary for the start of the story!
It kind of makes me imagine the game cutting to Yashiki chasing Moe out with a broom
#death mark#It kind of makes me imagine the game cutting to Yashiki chasing Moe out with a broom lol#Man was over the spirit hunting thing at the end of chapter 6 for sure
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Link to full article.
"Broomes, an appointee of President Donald Trump, on Wednesday dismissed two machine gun possession counts against Tamori Morgan, who was indicted last year. Morgan was accused of possessing a model AM-15 .300-caliber machine gun and a machine gun conversion device known as a “Glock switch” that can make a semi-automatic weapon fire like a machine gun."
“The court finds that the Second Amendment applies to the weapons charged because they are ‘bearable arms’ within the original meaning of the amendment,” Broomes wrote. He added that the government “has the burden to show that the regulation is consistent with this nation’s historical firearm regulation tradition.”
I'm sorry, but who the fuck needs a machine gun to go hunting?!
These magats aren't planning to kill some deer with machine guns.
Mark my words. They are fully prepared to overthrow our government in a violent, bloody coup when their cult leader loses yet another election.
The Supreme Court and every Trump appointed official are laying the groundwork for that takeover.
#fuck trump#maga cult#maga morons#magats#fuck maga#maga is a cult#maga is weird#kansas judge#Judge John W. Broomes#US District Judge#trump appointee#trump is racist#trump is a dictator#trump is a threat to democracy#save our democracy#vote blue#get out the vote#vote democrat#vote kamala#harris walz 2024#kamala harris for president 2024#kamala harris#impeach scotus#corrupt judges#corrupt justices#mark my words
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i log onto ao3, i see something marked as gen fic and tagged exclusively with Character/Character tags and has “#Romance” in the additional tags section and in the description is like “some established relationship fluff!”
i look directly into the camera and sigh so hard i simply disintegrate into dust
#gav gab#WHACKING SHIP FIC IN THE GEN CATEGORY WITH A BROOM#GET THAT OUTTA HERE!!! GO AWAY!!!!!!!#this one was so direct too lmao it wasn’t even your usual like#‘well they’re GONNA end up together but nobody’s making out yet tee hee’ bullshit lmao#it was straight up just tagged romance#lmfao. gang it’s hard out here.#‘but people don’t know what that means!!’ it’s in a list of things you pick the other options for which#are things like ‘m/f’ and ‘m/m’ and ‘f/f’#and you have to mark a rating for the fic separately#and the faq is right there if you’re confused#come on now.
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American cartoonist Russell Myers gains Guinness Book of World Records fame
Congratulations to American cartoonist Russell Myers, who has been formally recognised by the Guinness Book of World Records for the "Longest running daily cartoon strip by a single author"
Congratulations to American cartoonist Russell Myers, who has been formally recognised by the Guinness Book of World Records for the “Longest running daily cartoon strip by a single author“, for producing his “Broom-Hilda” newspaper strip since 1970. Broom-Hilda follows the escapades of its eponymous character, a 1500-year-old, cigar-smoking, beer-guzzling witch with a penchant for finding love…
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#❛ portrait / aerendyl: humble the substance of my earth.#yeah i did the eye thing. sue me SJDFJS#also new tats that /somewhat/ align with what i have in mind re: his elemental markings#my edit.#off to replying to drafts n coding i go now!! aggressively sweeping myself off the dash w a broom
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i may or may not have continued the hoffstrahm blowjobs saga
#or: strahm sucking hoffman off in a broom closet#hoffstrahm#coffinshipping#mark hoffman#peter strahm#saw#my fics
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Get you a cottagecore goth dating a cybergoth.
Both are secretly abominations to mankind and find the freakiest way to flirt.
They’re also polyamorous, as they have many hands and other queer appendages of mysterious origin.
#vagueblogging again#tee hee my skull gets little blushie marks like a shojo#i want to kiss him so bad hes sooooo creepy and weird#my little freak muah muah muah#you utter weirdo i love you#lets chant in the woods and dance around a bonfire and curse our enemies#may the fantastical find us always in our castle of whimsy#broom over the door and sigils everywhere#also some christian stuff to really throw people off#like haha! you thought two pagans lived here?#incorrect only one is pagan and you gotta GUESS#im gonna kiss you over a hot bowl of soup
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Back in this post, we noted that my pal Russell Myers has been drawing his newspaper strip Broom-Hilda with no assistance since it debuted back in April of 1970. That's over 19,000 daily and Sunday strips and he ain't about to stop. As you probably would assume, newspaper strip artists work way ahead of schedule and Russell is way, way ahead. If he quit tomorrow, which he has no intention of doing, he already has enough Broom-Hilda strips completed to take him over the 20,000 mark.
--Mark Evanier on Russell Myers’ historic run on Broom Hilda
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Various Artists (incl. Mark Broom, Theo Nasa, Shinedoe, and more) - Actualize Part 1 [Rekids Special Projects, RSPX50A]
Our Saturday selection: Various Artists (incl. Mark Broom, Theo Nasa, Shinedoe, and more) – Actualize Part 1 [Rekids Special Projects, RSPX50A] Radio Slave announces Rekids Special Projects ‘Actualize’ compilation and DJ mix Rekids Special Projects, the no-nonsense techno-focussed sub-label of Radio Slave, aka Matt Edwards’ Rekids, launched in 2017 and has since released music from the likes of…
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#Actualize Part 1#and more)#Rave#Rekids Special Projects#RSPX50A#Shinedoe#Techno#Techno Music#Theo Nasa#Various Artists (incl. Mark Broom
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Kingdom of Ash Chapter 66
Chapter; Highlights, etc. (you know the drill😂)
Aelin awoke to the scent of pine and snow, and knew she was home.
Not in Terrasen, not yet, but in the sense she would always be home, if Rowan was with her.
His steady breaths filled her right ear, the sound of the well and truly asleep, and the arm he'd draped across her middle was a solid, warm weight. Silvery light glazed the ancient stones of the ceiling.
Morning—or a cloudy day. The halls beyond the room offered shards of sound that she sorted through, piece by piece, as if she were assembling a broken mirror that might reveal the world beyond
Apparently, it had been three days since the battle. And the rest of the khagan's army, led by Prince Kashin, his third-eldest son, had arrived.
It was that tidbit that had her rising fully to consciousness, a hand sliding to Rowan's arm.
A caress of a touch, just to see how deeply the rejuvenating sleep held him. Three days, they'd slept here, unaware of the world. A dangerous, vulnerable time for any magic-wielder, when their bodies demanded a deep sleep to recover from expending so much power.
That was another sliver she'd picked up: Gavriel sat outside their door. In mountain lion form. People drew quiet when they approached, not realizing that as soon as they passed him, their whispers of That strange, terrifying cat could be detected by Fae ears.
Aelin ran a finger over the seam of Rowan's sleeve, feeling the corded muscle beneath. Clear her head, her body felt clear. Like the first icy breath inhaled on a winter's morning.
During the days they'd slept, no nightmare had shaken her awake, hunted her. A small, merciful reprieve.
Aelin swallowed, her throat dry. What had been real, what Maeve had tried to plant in her mind-did it matter, whether the pain had been true or imagined?
She had gotten out, gotten away from Maeve and Cairn. Facing the broken bits inside her would come later.
For now, it was enough to have this clarity back. Even though releasing her power, expending that mighty blow here, had not been her plan.
Aelin slid her gaze toward Rowan, his harsh face softened into handsomeness by sleep. And clean—the gore that had splattered them both was gone. Someone must have washed it away while they slept.
As if he sensed her attention, or just felt the lingering hand on his arm, Rowan's eyes cracked open. He scanned her from head to toe, deemed everything all right, and met her stare.
"Show-off," he muttered.
Aelin patted his arm. "You put on a pretty fancy display yourself, Prince."
He smiled, his tattoo crinkling. "Will that display be the last of your surprises, or are there more coming?"
She debated it-telling him, revealing it.
Maybe.
Rowan sat up, the blanket sliding from him.
Is this the sort of surprise that will end with my heart stopping dead in my chest?
She snorted, propping her head with a fist as she traced idle marks over the scratchy blanket.
"I sent a letter-when we were at that port in Wendlyn."
Rowan nodded. "To Aedion."
"To Aedion," she said, quietly enough that Gavriel couldn't hear from his spot outside the door. "And to your uncle. And to Essar." Rowan's brows rose. "Saying what?" She hummed to herself. "Saying that I was indeed imprisoned by Maeve, and that while 1 was her captive, she laid out some rather nefarious plans."
Her mate went still. "With what goal in mind?"
Aelin sat up, and picked at her nails.
"Convincing them to disband her army. Start a revolt in Doranelle. Kick Maeve off the throne. You know, small things."
Rowan just looked at her. Then scrubbed at his face. "You think a letter could do that?"
"It was strongly worded." He gaped a bit. "What sort of nefarious plans did you mention?"
"Desire to conquer the world, her complete lack of interest in sparing Fae lives in a war, her interest in Valg things." She swallowed. "I might have mentioned that she's possibly Valg."
Rowan started. Aelin shrugged. "It was a lucky guess. The best lies are always mixed with truth."
"Suggesting Maeve is Valg is a fairly outlandish lie, even for you. Even if it turned out to be true."
She waved a hand. "We'll see if anything comes of it."
"If it works, if they somehow revolt and the army turns against her..." He shook his head, laughing softly. "It'd be a boon in this war."
"I scheme and lie so grandly, and that's all the credit I get?"
Rowan flicked her nose. "You'll get credit if her army doesn't show up. Until then, we prepare as if they are. Which is highly likely." At her frown, he said, "Essar doesn't wield much power, and my uncle doesn't take many risks. Not like Enda and Sellene. For them to overthrow Maeve ... it would be monumental. If they even survived it."
Her stomach churned. "It's their choice, what they do. I only laid out the facts." Carefully worded facts and half guesses. An absolute gamble, if she was being honest.
Rowan smirked. "And other than attempting to overthrow Maeve's throne? Any other surprises I should know about?"
Her smile faded as she lay back down, Rowan doing the same beside her. "There are no more." At his raised brows, she added, "I swear it on my throne. There are no more left."
The amusement in his eyes guttered. "I don't know whether to be relieved."
"Everything I know, you know. All the cards are on the table now."
With the various armies that had gathered, with the Lock, with all of it.
"Do you think you could do it again?" he asked. "Draw up that much power?"
"I don't know. I don't think so. It required being ... contained. With the irons."
A shadow darkened his face, and he rolled onto his side, propping up his head. "I've never seen anything like it."
"You never will again." It was the truth.
"If the cost of that much power is what you endured, then I'll be glad not to."
Aelin ran a hand down the powerful muscles of his thigh, fingers snagging in the rip of fabric just above his knee. "I didn't feel you get this wound through the mating bond," she said, grazing the thick ridge of the new scar. A trophy from the battle. She made herself meet his piercing stare. Did Maeve somehow break that part of it? That part of us?
"No," he breathed, and stroked the hair from her brow. "I've realized that the bond only conveys the pain of the gravest wounds."
She touched the spot on his shoulder where Asterin Blackbeak's arrow had pierced him all those months ago. The moment she'd known what he was to her.
"It was why I didn't know what was happening to you on the beach," Rowan said roughly. Because the whipping, brutal and unbearable as it had been, hadn't brought her to the brink of death. Only into an iron coffin.
She scowled. "If you're about to tell me that you feel guilty for it—"
"We both have things to grapple with—about what happened these months."
A glance at him, and she knew he was well aware of what still clouded her soul.
And because he was the only person who saw everything she was and did not walk away from it, Aelin said, "I wanted that fire to be for Maeve."
"I know." Such simple words, and yet it meant everything-that understanding.
"I wanted it to make things ... better." She loosed a long breath. "To wipe it all away." Every memory and nightmare and lie.
"It will take a while, Aelin. To face it, work through it."
"I don't have a while."
His jaw tensed. "That remains to be seen." She didn't bother arguing. Not as she admitted, "I want it to be over."
He went wholly still, but granted her the space to think, to speak.
"I want it to be over and done with," she said hoarsely. "This war, the gods and the Wyrdgate and the Lock. All of it." She rubbed her temples, pushing past the weight, the lingering stain that no fire might cleanse. "I want to go to Terrasen, to fight, and then I want it to be over."
She'd wanted it to be over since she'd learned the true cost of forging the Lock anew.
Had wanted it to be over with each of Cairn's lashes on the beach in Eyllwe. And all he'd done to her afterward. Whatever it might bring about, however it might end, she wanted it to be over.
She didn't know who and what it made her.
Rowan remained silent for a long moment before he said, "Then we will make sure the khagan's host goes north. Then we will return to Terrasen and crush Erawan's armies." He brought her hands to his mouth for a swift kiss.
"And then, after all that, we'll see about this damned Lock." Uncompromising will filled his every breath, the air around them.
She let it be enough for both of them.
Tucked away his words, his vow, all those promises between them and extended her palm in the air between them.
She summoned the magic-the drop of water her mother's bloodline had given her.
Mab's bloodline.
A tiny ball of water took form in her hand. Over the calluses she'd so carefully rebuilt.
She let the gentle, cooling power trickle over her. Let it smooth the jagged bits inside herself and sing them to sleep. Her mother's gift.
You do not yield.
When the Lock took everything, would it claim this part as well? This most precious part of her power? She tucked away those thoughts, too.
Concentrating, gritting her teeth, Aelin commanded the ball of water to rotate in her palm.
A wobble was all she got in answer.
She snorted. "Faerie Queen of the West indeed."
Rowan huffed a quiet laugh. "Keep practicing. In a thousand years, you might actually be able to do something with it."
She whacked his arm, the droplet of water soaking into the sleeve of his shirt. "It's a wonder I learned anything from you with that sort of encouragement." She shook the wetness from her hand. Right into his face.
Rowan nipped at her nose. "I do keep a tally, Princess. Of all the horrible things that come out of your mouth."
Her toes curled, and she dragged her fingers through his hair, luxuriating in the silken strands. "How shall I pay for this one?"
On the other side of the door, she could have sworn that cat-soft feet quickly padded away.
People gawked in the halls, some whispering as they passed.
The queen and her consort. Where do you think they've been these past few days?
I heard they went into the mountains and brought the wild men back with them.
I heard they've been weaving spells around the city, to protect it against Morath.
Rowan was still smirking when Aelin emerged from the communal ladies' bathing room.
"See?" She fell into step beside him as they aimed not for their room and ravishment, but for the hallway where food had been laid out.
"You're starting to like the notoriety."
Rowan arched a brow. "You think that everywhere I've gone for the past three hundred years, whispers haven't followed me?" She rolled her eyes, but he chuckled. "This is far better than Cold-hearted bastard or I heard he killed someone with a table leg."
"You did kill someone with a table leg." Rowan's smirk grew.
"And you are a cold-hearted bastard," she threw in.
Rowan snorted. "I never said those whispers were lies."
Aelin looped her arm through his. "I'm going to start a rumor about you, then. Something truly grotesque."
He groaned. "I dread the thought of what you might come up with."
She adopted a harsh whisper as they passed a group of human soldiers. "You flew back onto the battlefield to peck out the eyes of our enemies?" Her gasp echoed off the rock. "And ate those eyes?"
One of the soldiers tripped, the others whipping their heads to them. Rowan pinched her shoulder. "Thank you for that."
She inclined her head. "You're very welcome."
Aelin kept smiling as they found food and ate a quick lunch-it was midday, they'd learned-sitting side by side in a dusty, half-forgotten stairwell. Much like the days they'd spent in Mistward, knee to knee and shoulder to shoulder in the kitchen while listening to Emrys's stories.
Though unlike those months this spring, when Aelin set down her plate between her feet, she slid her arms around Rowan's neck and his mouth instantly met hers.
No, it was certainly not at all like their time at Mistward as she crawled into Rowan's lap, not entirely caring that anyone might stride up or down the stairs, and kissed him silly.
They halted, breathless and wild-eyed, before she could decide that it really wouldn't be a bad idea…
… If Aelin was being honest with herself, she was still debating hauling him into the nearest closet when they set off to find their companions at last. One glance at Rowan's glazed eyes and she knew he was debating the same.
Yet even the desire heating her blood cooled when they entered the ancient study near the top of the keep and beheld the gathered group. Fenrys and Gavriel were already there, Chaol with them, no sign of Elide or Lorcan.
But Chaol's father, unfortunately, was present. And glowered as they entered the meeting that seemed well under way. Aelin gave him a mocking smile and sauntered up to the large desk.
A tall, broad-shouldered man stood with Nesryn, Sartaq, and Hasar, handsome and brimming with a sort of impatient energy. His brown eyes were welcoming, his smile easy.
She liked him immediately.
"My brother," Hasar said, waving a hand without looking up from the map. "Kashin." The prince sketched a graceful bow.
Aelin offered one back, Rowan doing the same. "An honor," Aelin said. "Thank you for coming."
"You can actually thank my father for that. And Yrene," said Kashin, his use of their language as flawless as his siblings'.
Indeed, Aelin had much to thank the healer for.
Nesryn's sharp eyes scanned Aelin from head to toe. "You're feeling all right?"
"Just needed to rest." Aelin jerked her chin at Rowan. "He requires frequent naps in his old age."
Sartaq coughed, keeping his head down as he continued studying the map.
Fenrys, however, laughed. "Back to your good spirits, I see."
Aelin smirked at Chaol's straight-backed father. "We'll see how long it lasts."
The man said nothing.
Rowan motioned to the desk and asked the royals, "Have you decided-where you shall march now?"
Such a casual, calm question. As if the fate of Terrasen did not rest upon it.
Hasar opened her mouth, but Sartaq cut her off. "North. We shall indeed go north with you. If only to repay you for saving our army-our people."
Aelin tried not to look too relieved.
"Gratitude aside," Hasar said, not sounding very grateful at all, "Kashin's scouts have confirmed that Terrasen is where Morath is concentrating its efforts. So it is there that we shall go."
Aelin wished she had not eaten such a large lunch. "How bad is it?"
Nesryn shook her head, answering for Prince Kashin, "The details were murky. All we know is that hordes were spotted marching northward, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake."
Aelin kept her fists at her sides, avoiding the urge to rub at her face.
Chaol's father said, "I hope that power of yours can be summoned again."
Aelin let an ember of that power smolder in her eyes. "Thank you for the armor," she crooned.
"Consider it an early coronation gift," the Lord of Anielle countered with a mocking smile.
Sartaq cleared his throat. "If you and your companions are recovered, then we'll press northward as soon as we are able." No objections from Hasar at that.
"And march along the mountains?" Rowan asked, scanning the map. Aelin traced the route they'd follow. "We'd have to pass directly before the Ferian Gap. We'll barely clear the other end of this lake before we're in another battle."
"So we draw them out," Hasar said. "Trick them into emptying whatever forces wait in the Gap, then sneak up on them from behind."
"Adarlan controls the entire Avery," Chaol said, drawing an invisible line inland from Rifthold. "To pass north, we have to cross that river anyway. In picking the Gap as our battleground, we'll avoid the mess that would come with fighting in the midst of Oakwald. The ruks, at least, would be able to provide aerial coverage. Not so with the trees."
Rowan nodded. "We'd need to march the majority of the host up into the mountains, then—to come at the Gap from where they'd least expect it. It's rough terrain, though. We'll need to pick our route carefully."
Chaol's father grumbled. Aelin lifted her brows, but his son answered, "I sent out emissaries the day after the battle-into the Fangs. To contact the wild men who live there, if they might know of secret ways through the mountains to the Gap."
Ancient enemies of this city. "And?"
"They do. But at a cost."
"One that shall not be paid," the Lord of Anielle snapped.
"Let me guess: territory," Aelin said.
Chaol nodded. Hence the tension in this room.
She tapped a toot as she surveyed the Lord of Anielle. "And you won't give one sliver of land to them?"
He just glared.
"Apparently not," Fenrys muttered
Aelin shrugged, and turned to Chaol. "Well, it's settled, then."
"What is settled?" his father ground out.
Aelin ignored him, and winked at her friend. "You're the Hand to the King of Adarlan. You outrank him. You're authorized to act on Dorian's behalf." She gestured to the map. "The land might be a part of Anielle, but it belongs to Adarlan. Go ahead and barter it."
His father started. "You—"
"We are going north," Aelin said. "You will not stand in our way." She again let some of her fire kindle in her eyes, set the gold in them burning. "I halted that wave. Consider this alliance with the wild men a way to repay the favor."
"That wave destroyed half my city," the man snarled.
Fenrys let out a low, disbelieving laugh. Rowan snarled softly.
Chaol growled at his father, "You're bastard."
"Watch your tongue, boy."
Aelin nodded sympathetically to Chaol. "I see why you left."
Chaol, to his credit, winced and returned to the map. "If we can get past the Ferian Gap, then we continue northward."
Past Endovier. That path would take them right past Endovier. Aelin's stomach tightened. Rowan's hand grazed her own.
"We have to decide soon," Sartaq declared.
"Right now, we sit between the Ferian Gap and Morath. It would be very easy for Erawan to send hosts to crush us between them."
Hasar turned to Chaol. "Is Yrene anywhere near done?"
He leaned an elbow against the arm of his wheeled chair. "Even with the few survivors, there are too many of them. We'd be here weeks."
"How many injured?" Rowan asked.
Chaol shook his head. "Not injured." His jaw tightened. "Valg."
Aelin frowned. "Yrene's healing the Valg?"
Hasar grinned. "In a manner of speaking."
Aelin waved her off. "Can I see?"
They found Yrene not in the keep, but in a tent on the remnants of the battlefield, leaning over a human man thrashing upon a cot. The man had been restrained to anchors in the floor at his wrists and ankles.
Aelin took one look at those chains and had to swallow.
Rowan laid a hand on her lower back, and Fenrys stepped closer to her side.
Yrene paused, her hands wreathed in white light. Borte, sword out, lingered nearby.
"Is something wrong?" Yrene asked, the glow in her hands fading. The man sagged, going boneless as the healer's assault on the demon inside him halted.
Chaol steered his chair closer to her, the wheels equipped for rougher terrain. "Aelin and her companions want a demonstration. If you're up for it."
Yrene smoothed back the hair that had escaped her braid. "It's not really anything that you can see. What happens is beneath the skin—mind to mind."
"You go up against Valg demons directly," Fenrys said with no small amount of awe.
"They're hateful, cowardly wretches." Yrene crossed her arms and scowled at the man tied to the cot. "Utterly pathetic," she spat toward him—the demon inside him.
The man hissed. Yrene only smiled. The man—the demon-whimpered.
Aelin blinked, unsure whether to laugh or fall to her knees. "Show me. Do whatever it is you do, but show me."
Borte said, "It's not very exciting with them tied down, is it?"
Sartaq threw her an exasperated glare. As if this were a conversation they'd already had many times. "You can be on mucking duty, if you'd prefer."
Borte rolled her eyes, but turned to Aelin, looking her over with a frankness that Aelin could only appreciate. "Any other missions for me?"
Aelin grinned. "Not yet. Soon, perhaps." Borte grinned right back. "Please. Please spare me from the tedium of this."
"And you believe them?" Fenrys asked.
Hasar patted the hilt of her fine sword. "Our interrogators are skilled at retrieving the truth."
Aelin ignored the roiling in her stomach.
"So you free them," Gavriel said, silent for minutes now, "and then torture them?"
"This is war," Hasar said simply. "We leave them able to function. But we will not risk sparing their lives only to find a new army at our backs."
"Some willingly joined Erawan," Chaol said quietly. "Some willingly took the ring. Yrene can tell, when she's in there, who wanted it or not. She doesn't bother to save those who gladly knelt. So most of those she does save were either fools or taken forcibly."
"Some want to fight for us," Sartaq said.
"Those who pass our vetting process are allowed to begin training with the foot soldiers. Not many of them, but a few." Fine. Fine, and fine.
Yrene gasped, her light flaring bright enough that Aelin squinted.
Yrene slumped back, Chaol shooting out an arm to brace her. The healer only took a perch on the arm of his chair, a hand on her heaving chest.
Aelin gave her a moment to catch her breath. To manage such a feat was remarkable. To do it while pregnant ... Aelin shook her head in wonder.
Yrene said to no one in particular, "That demon didn't want to go."
"But it's gone now?" Aelin asked
Yene pointed to the man on the cot, now opening his eyes. Brown, not black, gazed upward.
"Thank you," was all the man said, his voice raw.
And human. Utterly human.
#Chapter 66#Aelin Galathynius#Kingdom of Ash#Sarah J. Maas#First Read along with me NO SPOILERS PLEASE though warning for post & tags up to KoA 66 & more reacts/notes/quotes in tags below#KoA part of chapter 66 (one/two more till Pt. 2)-HomepinetalksknownPeaceCloserBetter-Did it matter now?Revealing what?#A guess lol-She'd known-THE LETTERS-that’s what she had been waiting for-what’s the last card?-Never again it would wreck her only that-#-pain brought that power-AELIN STOP PLANNING A DEATH-Break US-He’s aware-So she said it-I know-I want it over-so it will be-he’ll find a wa#Who and what it made her-A coward-no. Can nehemias ghost pop up and fix that please?-Just over by any meansNot death just not this#Uncompromising will-Enough-Promises-A hand again-Her mothers gift-The most precious part-OW WHY WOULD YOU turn it into that line#putting the AH in Sarah-Given to him again-lol again Gavriel leaving lol-very Feyre of her-wait Is she pregnant? Nope lol-Gavriel arranging#-everything he’d be a great wedding planner-them sharing food I want us to eat well-good ole Mistward days-lol literally no care#Use the elevator folks-THE BIRD RUMOR-and another broom closet lol-YESSSKashin (never thought we’d be here but okay)#naps needed-they are centuries old-okay wait Maeve all of them how old is she?-hearth mothers?-Her faceAn ember-The gap DAMN-#-The river DOUBLE DAMN-The fangs SHIT-Endovier NOPE!-damn the Valg rings I’m so paranoid-They learned-the ChainsThey both held her they kne#Laugh or cry idk-Show me how?War.Fine.What next?!-Erawan AND Maeve NO UGH-Needed to walk & get away uh yeah-damn magic gods-#Yrene and the baby though…what if-he couldn’t for her-The marks-Love is a weakness matches the old script flipped-what it meant-#Only Gavriel would have arranged them with such care.#THE RUMORS SCENE IS EVEN BETTER THAN I THOUGHT LOL#who did he kill with a table leg?😂#HoF full circle lol#His brown eyes were welcoming his smile easy. She liked him immediately.#He requires frequent naps in his old age#Aelin let an ember of that power smolder in her eyes. Thank you for the armor she crooned.—coronation#YES CHAOL standing up for him her everyone—Yrenes feist has taught him well#Rowan's hand grazed her own.#Rowan laid a hand on her lower back and Fenrys stepped closer to her side.#with a frankness that Aelin could only appreciate—Borte had dropped her off before—Nesryn saved#Yrene wreathed in white light-remarkable. To do it while pregnant ... Aelin shook her head in wonder.#And human. Utterly human.
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