#there are several differences in these verses beyond the obvious

[unhingedselfships]

It was some big, multi group, party. 

Seemed weird given most of these people wanted to kill each other but.

Well she wasn’t really one of them so far be it for her to understand. 

Still. Her nerves were wearing thin.

She was a novelty here. The barely legal little American girl the Tojo Chairman had moved across the planet for… reasons. There was plenty of speculating. 

Not that most of it was true.

He cared about her, he was a good man, and when she’d desperately needed to escape, he’d offered. 

Nothing else to it. One emotionally wrecked girl, and a man with far too much kindness.

Alas, she’d been quickly dismissed as the latest ‘toy’ by everyone up to and including the man’s own mother.

She wasn’t even that pretty? Maybe they thought her a freak? Willing to do some real weird shit? After all, she didn’t exactly set that “gold digger standard”. 

She supposed maybe she’d dressed a bit like one, but eh. She had nice tits, and she knew it. The only nice thing about her, no duh she was gonna show it off.

Of course, that meant others were gonna notice too. He’d been sleazy and way too obvious and very not her type. Shutting him down had been trickier than she’d expected but eventually he’d wandered off in a huff, making promises to return or do something or other, she didn't know, she’d stopped caring. 

“Backpfeifengesicht, never met anyone more fitting,” an exaggeration, maybe, but she was cranky.

“Really now? That sounds unpleasant,” he’d leaned over her shoulder, startling her, and she twisted to look at him.

Annnnd immediately felt her face heat. For all the creepy old men that had been sidling up to her that night, this one was well- decidedly less creepy. And a lot nicer to look at. And his voice gave her chills.

“Oh- um- yeah- well,” she stuttered and he grinned at her, “It um, well it isn’t exactly nice,”

“Care to share?”

She hummed, and tried not to look directly at him.

“Ah, gimme a second yeah?”

“Take your time princess, I can wait.”

Something in his tone was both smarmy and eager. 

She mulled it over a bit longer and he chuckled, and in perfect Upper Class British-English, “My English is pretty good too, if that would be easier for you.”

“Ah, um, ok. I guess the closest would be like ‘a face in need of a fist’, or something like that.”

He blinked before throwing his head back and laughing, the chains around his neck jingled and his hair fell in his face.

The flush was back, and worse than ever.

“Yeah, yeah I could agree with that assessment,” he seemed delighted. 

She took the moment to look him over, the burgundy textured velvet suit, the black on black shirt, half buttoned. 

And a knife. She knew that shape well. And actually-

“Oh!” she didn’t think as she reached, “Is that the-”

He moved faster than her, and with a hell of a lot more grace, grabbing the offending hand and spinning her, arms pinned across her, her back pressed to his chest-

And she was still rattling off knife specs. Weight, length, the fucking metal blend. 

How cute~

She was still babbling, and he found himself even more amused, did this girl really have no fear?

Looking up he noticed the Sixth Tojo Chairman making a beeline for them, eyes hard, and ready for conflict.

Kadokura’s eyes took on something… manic. Wild and wicked.

He felt her shift but didn’t think much of it, too busy silently goading the younger man.

She tugged at something on her thigh, passed it from hand to hand, and he found another knife, not his own, waved vaguely in front of him.

He blinked, bemused. 

Tricky little thing.

“Thiisss one, is mine. I doubt it’d be a comfortable hold, it was made specifically for me, but. It’s nice right?”

It was nice. Damascus steel, antler handle, seven inch blade, eleven inch total, give or take a bit.

Daigo had moved within range, and she finally noticed him, trailing off in her rambling.

One arm loosened its hold on her, grabbing the knife from her hand.

“It is lovely, where did you say you got it?”

“Oh!” She leaned her head back against his shoulder, and he found it novel how comfortable she seemed to be in his hold, “My cousin makes them. Well, there are like, three cousins who do forging. They make me pieces for gifts now and then. They’re good right?”

He hummed, “Indeed they are.”

Looking up she noticed the approaching Chairman, and paled, finally going quiet.

“I’m- being super autistic about this, aren’t I?”

His arms fell from around her as he took a step back, bending double, and cackling.

He gasped, trying to catch his breath, and she seemed uncomfortable with the audience they’d attracted, looking between him and Daigo-chan anxiously.

Adorable, really.

Standing, he reached out with a grin, giving a lock of her hair a tug.

“I’ll be seeing you around darling.”

He laughed at the flush that darkened over her, and wandered off.

Wide eyed, she turned to Daigo.

“Who was that?”

“Kadokura Kenshi, from one of the factions up North. He’s not a man you want to be involved with Kimi.”

“Oh. Oh I think I do.”

…

A little while later, the cry of “That asshole still has my knife!” carried across the room, and he cackled as he left.

[bisnes-socks]

i said i might do more in depth thoughts of stephanie and so i did.

the first post was a bit rushed but many of the points very much still stand, this post i guess is just trying to make the same points a bit better and deeper. so idk how much of a musical analysis this is, and how much i'm just trying to put vibes and feelings into words, but here goes.

i said in the first post how i like that the structure isn't the usual verse chorus verse chorus - well, actually it kind of is that, but the chorus doesn't feel like an obvious chorus, because they only play it twice and it's not the same those times. there is almost a pre-chorus like feeling to it, and then the song ends in what could have been a bridge, if the song was longer. this song to me feels like a part of something bigger, and that's why i'm super excited to hear in the context of the full album. with that being said, i still think it works super well on its own as well, i really love the vibes.

the early 2000's brit rock and indie rock influence, such as arctic monkeys or black kids, is still quite obvious to me, but so is the 80's influence as well, like orchestral manoeuvers in the dark was the first one that came to my mind. then again, the 80's influence on early 2000's brit rock and indie rock in general is also pretty obvious, so i think influences in music in general should always be seen as a spectrum, rather than fixed, separate points. everything is always influenced by things that came before it, and what we can name as an influence on something will always depend on where we've heard a specific style or flavour or spice in music first.

it's a different sound than what we've heard from them before. i don't know if this makes any sense to anyone other than myself, but to me, the sound on this song is the sound of a collective more than the sound of the band. what i mean by that is that there are so many elements in the song that are not straight forward band instruments, or instruments that are in their usual line up. this sound is produced by five professinal musicians working as a collective, rather than five band members playing their respective instruments simultaniously. does that make any sense? i don't know, but it's how i feel - like there could be more people on this song than there are. but i think the best songs always do sound like all of the people who made it, not just one or two.

like i said in my first post, the drums are super interesting in this one. the drum machineness of it all, the super 80's style drum fills, the percussive details of little pings and pangs that decorate the track, that's all something that hasn't been super typical in pop or rock music recently, and harkens back to the 70's, 80's and also the early 2000's indie scene. it's super interesting to listen to, and i can genuenly recommend taking the time to listen to the track a couple of times focusing on just the drums and percussion.

in fact, i'd recommend listening to the track (this track and honestly just songs in general) several times, always choosing a different instrument or element to focus on, because there is a lot of cool stuff going on in this song! vocals and lyrics often take the main focus, but i always find it worth it to carefully listen beyond the lyrics.

the drum parts are also just genuenly fun. the drums and the bass make it a very dancable song, which again, it's both very 80's and very early 2000's to make super bop-y, dancable songs with sad or dark lyrics. the contrast is quite yummy to me. it also brings a vibe to the song i really really love. it reminds me of a quote about movies, about how drama movies should always have a little bit of comedy in them, because that's how real life is. there is always always both light and dark, sadness and happiness present in everything. crying and laughing all at once. that's the vibe of the song to me, and it's brilliant.

the song has so many layers to it, it's honestly brilliantly mixed: there's something happening in almost every direction, every distance, so to speak. and so many different synth sounds! sharp strikes here, notes held there, runs here, backround walls there. take a moment to find them all, it's super rewarding and again, genuenly fun!

the vocal delivery is also a cool contrast with the musical aspects. the voice doesn't convey a lot of emotion, on purpose i think. he sounds a bit numb and detached, and the music being so whimsical with all of its details and decorations, it's just a really cool juxtaposition.

and at the end, repeating the lines about love and happiness not being built for people like me, with the guitar playing the same melody, when the vocal line and the guitar line go out of sync and he starts repeating the lines to a different rythm, i think it highlights the juxtaposition even more, it's like.. it's like he's not even listening to the whimsy of the music anymore, but getting carried away in his own head by the lines. and repeating them in an almost monotoe way.. i just think it's a brilliant way to deliver the emotion behind the lyric.

but the song ends in the major key whimsical runs on the keyboard with a very fun percussion rythm, and so i think ultimately the mood left behind by the song is quite positive. it's melancholic sure, a bit angsty yes, but at the same time it's not a depressing feeling. 

like i don't know how else to put it, but the whole song is like. everything is going to shit in your life, but you're on a walk and the leaves are super pretty colours and the weather is just perfect, and you breathe in fresh air and it's like. yeah everything is kinda fucked but right in this moment, right at this minute, it's all kind of.. okay. and for a split second you can imagine a future where things are less shit. where maybe happiness and love are built for people like you.

[eddiebrockx]

"Disrupting Canon"

⚠️SPOILERS for Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse and Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse (primarily the latter). Like serious spoilers. Please don't engage if you don't want any!⚠️

Incoming mini-essay! (TL;DR - Miguel O'Hara as a character has much to say about grief and guilt, and how it can harm people.)

After watching Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, I am filled with thoughts!!! So many that they can't all be contained here, and I'll probably have to write an actually essay later--however, I wanted to share some of my feelings and ideas about Miguel and his role in the story, specifically.

Miguel is obviously an antagonist to Miles throughout the story. And, I would actually argue that he is an antagonist to everyone, including himself. He's cynical, he's controlling, he projects his fears onto everyone, and he is terrified of change. The scene where he tells Miles that he is the "original anomaly" is a obvious display of all of that.

Despite this, Miguel still isn't a villain; he isn't evil, and he isn't doing any of this because of pure malice. Instead, he's doing it out of fear. Because Miguel is also an anomaly (at least, I think so). Miguel has more in common with Miles than he does the other Spiders, which is why I think he blames Miles for so much as the "original anomaly."

We know, as the audience, that Miles shouldn't be blamed for anything that has happened. It is not his fault that the Spot brought over a radioactive spider from Earth-42; it's not his fault that he got bit; it's not his fault that the original Spider-Man dies; it's not his fault that the Spot became the Spot. Any logical person can see that Miles didn't have any control over these situations; so why can't Miguel?

He can't because Miguel believes that Miles will cause and experience exactly what he did. We know that a major part of why Miguel is so uptight is because when he disrupted canon, his entire world disintegrated before his eyes. And, its a logical fear; as he said himself, is it worth saving one person over ending the world? But this is where things get complicated: does "disrupting canon" actually cause the world to end?

Peter B. Parker, for example, has a daughter. Jessica Drew is pregnant. None of the other Spiders seem to have children, so wouldn't these be an example of canon being disrupted? Pavitr's world still seems to be around (I'm assuming), after we saw canon disrupted. Gwen's father LITERALLY quit his job, meaning he didn't die, and therefore also disrupted canon. But...nothing happened to Gwen's Earth, even though she was gone for several months.

And, the cherry on top, if Miles is an anomaly, how come nothing has happened to Earth-1610 and Earth-42? Why did nothing happen when the original Spider-Man died?

All of these things, I would like to add, are also very different to what Miguel did. Miguel abandoned his world for a new one, taking the place of a version of him that died. He was in the wrong world. And this reminded me of a certain antagonist in Into the Spider-Verse: King Pin.

Throughout the entire movie, King Pin desperately tried to bring another version of his family into his world. In the end he failed, whereas Miguel succeeded. Of course there are major differences, still. King Pin was entirely selfish and didn't care what consequences came with getting his family back, whereas Miguel thought he wasn't hurting anyone. But Miguel still managed to hurt people, and that's what seems to linger for him. The guilt and grief that he caused the destruction of an entire Earth.

And he can't see past it. Despite the many examples we see throughout the movie that go against what he believes, he can't see beyond his own experience. And if he were to admit that Miles could be correct, his understanding of what happened to himself has to be completely reevaluated. All of that grief that he has suppressed, all of the work he's done to "fix" things; all of that changes.

This is what makes Miguel so compelling to me. I don't think what he said to Miles was warranted, but I can understand where he comes from. The other Spiders can too, because a lot of them have already experienced their canon events. It's what makes this conflict so complicated, so interesting.

Of course, we can't be 100% sure about everything until we see what happens in the third film, but it's all interesting nonetheless.

Ultimately, all I want to say is that I love this series, and I can't wait to see where it takes us next!

[denimbex1986]

'This summer, theaters were drowning in blockbusters, whether it was “Asteroid City,” “Mission Impossible,” “Indiana Jones” or “Spiderman: Across the Spider Verse.” Yet no other blockbusters have caused the same commotion as what fans on the internet popularly nominated the “Barbenheimer” double feature, which, for all hardcore cinema fans, meant their entire calendar for July 21 was taken up.

Trying to capture the essence of what seems to be a marketing phenomenon that organically developed from two highly anticipated blockbusters has been an extremely challenging task for the media. “Barbie Land,” a pink paradise where women can literally be anything they want to be, was compared to Oppenheimer’s cold palette that embodies the grim picture of “death, the destroyer of worlds” in the middle of Los Alamos, New Mexico.

It is important to acknowledge the role that social media played in the success of both films. Once the release dates were announced, people quickly turned them both into memes and fans made posters and recolored sneak peeks from each movie to fit the other film’s aesthetic. Curious Refuge, a blog that has released several AI trailers including one for “Barbenheimer,” gained a lot of popularity among fans. The trailer combines the neutral beige aesthetic of “Oppenheimer” with hot pink and takes on the Barbie movie’s humor, giving us a snippet of what it would be like if the iconic doll added “Mother of the Atomic Bomb” into her infinite list of jobs and skills.

Additionally, both movies had relatively big names attached to them that helped attract fans. Many movie and TV show fanatics recognized most of the actors on screen and got excited to see some of them work together on these projects. A specific TikTok trend showed different clips of actors who made an appearance in “Oppenheimer” and paired them with the meme of Leonardo DiCaprio in “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood.”

It should not come as a surprise that these films became the event of the summer. Besides the obvious advantage of modern-day media, these two were beyond movies being premiered on the same date — they were two original screenplays by critically acclaimed directors.

Pentex production, a YouTube channel dedicated to making video essays about movies, put similarities between the two features in a nutshell. Both films had an amazing theme working not only behind and on the screen, but all the way from the pre-production with Oscar-nominated directors/screenwriters and backing from two of the biggest studios in the business. Similarly, each film revolves around an extremely noteworthy character that has had significant repercussions in history.

All of these allowed for an overlap in the audiences’ demographics which provided an even bigger discussion before and after the premieres. Greta Gerwig made it clear from the first “Barbie” preview ever released, which depicted a parody of “2001: A Space Odyssey,” that “Barbie” wouldn’t just be a chick flick, but a film that everyone should enjoy.

On one hand, there’s “Barbie.” The film went beyond what anyone could have expected based on what has been made with past adaptations of “Barbie.” Gerwig used the absurdity of Barbie Land to make a self-aware film that addressed a greater issue without losing the comedy that the ideas of a Barbie living today facilitated.

Then there’s “Oppenheimer,” which, to quote the director, Christopher Nolan, revolves around “the most dramatic situation ever.” With a stellar soundtrack, Nolan helps the viewer mimic the tension of this historic time and utilizes the gravity of the plot’s topics — war, the atomic bomb and the probability of the end of the world — to produce a film that quite literally leaves you shaking.

It’s unfair to compare one to the other because they both shine in their own way, making an excellent use of their resources to emphasize what, from the start, were strong storylines. Both directors did an amazing work that leaves the audiences thinking about moral, social and interpersonal dilemmas that encourage a greater reflection once you leave the theater.

Part of what really worked for this double feature was that at its core, they both deal with the lifelong question about men and the power they hold in society. Barbie works with it in a very clear-cut sense, but “Oppenheimer” equally questions the place of men, focusing on scientists and the repercussions of their power even when one does have the best intentions.

What made it especially captivating was that it went beyond an everyday movie experience. People were hyped and planned entire outfits to spend what felt like more than a day at the movie theater. In a way, the other aspects of fashion and social media discourse were more anticipated than the films themselves.

According to Variety.com, as of Aug. 14, 2023, on the fourth weekend upon its release, “Barbie” has made over $526.4 million in the U.S. and Canada box offices while “Oppenheimer” is reporting around $264.3 million. Both films have broken various records. Additionally, Insider.com reports that “Barbie” now holds the record for the biggest opening weekend for a female director in history, surpassing the $1 billion mark in early August — making Greta Grewig the first female director to ever hit that mark, and around that same time, “Oppenheimer” became the highest-grossing Nolan movie internationally.

With the occurrence of an event such as “Barbenheimer,” it leaves the industry wondering if something similar could ever be successfully replicated, especially considering how much of it was possible thanks to both films’ organic appeal.'

[waterdamgoc45]

Water Damage Restoration Glendale

Restoring Peace of Mind: Water Damage Restoration in Glendale

Water damage is a homeowner's nightmare, striking suddenly and wreaking havoc on properties. From burst pipes to natural disasters, the aftermath of water damage can be devastating, leaving behind destruction and despair. However, in the midst of chaos, there's hope. With professional water damage restoration services, homeowners in Glendale, California, can reclaim their homes and restore peace of mind. In this article, we'll explore the importance of water damage restoration, the process involved, and why Code 3 Restoration and Decon is the go-to solution for residents in need.

The Impact of Water Damage: Water damage can occur for various reasons, including flooding, leaking roofs, burst pipes, or even faulty appliances. Regardless of the cause, its impact can be far-reaching and severe. Beyond the obvious structural damage, water can seep into walls, floors, and furniture, leading to mold growth, structural instability, and health hazards. Moreover, if not addressed promptly and effectively, water damage can escalate, causing irreparable harm and significantly diminishing property value.

Understanding Water Damage Restoration: Water damage restoration is a comprehensive process aimed at mitigating the effects of water intrusion and restoring affected properties to their pre-loss condition. It involves several crucial steps, starting with assessment and mitigation. Upon arrival, trained professionals assess the extent of the damage, identify potential hazards, and implement immediate measures to prevent further deterioration, such as water extraction and securing the premises.

Once the mitigation phase is complete, the restoration process begins in earnest. This entails drying and dehumidification to remove excess moisture, disinfection to eliminate harmful contaminants, and repairs to restore damaged structures and belongings. Throughout the process, advanced equipment, such as industrial-grade dehumidifiers, air movers, and moisture meters, is employed to ensure thorough drying and restoration.

Why Choose Code 3 Restoration and Decon: In the vast landscape of water damage restoration companies, choosing the right one can be daunting. However, residents of Glendale need look no further than Code 3 Restoration and Decon. Here's why:

Expertise and Experience: With years of experience in the industry, Code 3 Restoration and Decon boasts a team of skilled professionals who are well-versed in the intricacies of water damage restoration. They understand the nuances of different types of water damage and employ proven techniques to address each situation effectively.

Prompt Response: When disaster strikes, time is of the essence. Code 3 Restoration and Decon understands the urgency of water damage situations and provides prompt, 24/7 emergency response services. Their rapid response team is equipped to handle emergencies swiftly, minimizing further damage and disruption.

Comprehensive Services: From water extraction and drying to mold remediation and structural repairs, Code 3 Restoration and Decon offers a comprehensive range of services to address all aspects of water damage restoration. They tailor their solutions to meet the unique needs of each client, ensuring thorough and effective restoration.

State-of-the-Art Equipment: Code 3 Restoration and Decon invests in cutting-edge equipment and technology to deliver superior results. Their arsenal of advanced tools enables them to tackle even the most challenging water damage scenarios with precision and efficiency.

Water damage can be a homeowner's worst nightmare, but with the right restoration partner, it doesn't have to be a catastrophe. In Glendale, California, residents can trust Code 3 Restoration and Decon to deliver prompt, professional, and reliable water damage restoration services. Whether it's a minor leak or a major flood, Code 3 Restoration and Decon has the expertise, experience, and resources to restore your home and peace of mind. Don't let water damage control your life—contact Code 3 Restoration and Decon today and experience the difference firsthand.

#waterdamage #mold #firedamage #moldremediation #restoration #waterdamagerestoration #moldremoval #flooddamage #insurance #propertydamage #fire #glendale #losangeles #burbank #pasadena #phoenix #arizona #hollywood 

[musecaravan-info]

Carradoc Ilar Vaughn

"The earth laughs in flowers." ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson ~

Basic Information

FACE/BODY CLAIM: Gwilym Lee

AGE: OLD - but looks like late 20s/early 30s

EYES: Deep Blue

HAIR: Soft Brown; usually short and well-kept; Usually have a closely-shaved beard/mustache, as well

HEIGHT: 6'2

PRIMARY OUTFIT: Carr's modern look tends to border on 'hipster.' He wears plaid and sweaters and skinny jeans - usually in neutral/homey colors. He also usually has glasses - his vision's never quite recovered from the attack all those centuries ago.

Personality

You know that meme about all the different cinnamon rolls? He is definitely 'looks like a cinnamon roll, but could actually kill you.' Not that he would unless you intentionally threatened his clutch. Beyond that, he's open and friendly to just about everyone - even if that friendliness isn't returned. He tries very hard to always believe the best of people, but only to a degree. After all, he has a promise to keep and a clutch to protect. Those things ALWAYS come first for Carr.

Powers & Weaknesses

To avoid repetition, Go Here

Romance

Being the kind of person he is, caring for others comes easily to Carradoc. Romance on its own is easy for him, and he's likely to welcome anyone who displays that kind of interest (if he feels the same.) However, actual intimacy is on an entirely different level. To allow that, it would likely have to be someone he cares about just as much as he cares about his clutch. And that could only happen with trust and time.

Where to Find Him

The most obvious place is his flower shop. However, it's possible he could be found out the the forest gathering various supplies he can't grow himself, etc. Or maybe in a nearby park? Coffee shops are also possible. Dragons like coffee... or this dragon does. ;) Or perhaps any occasion where someone might've ordered flower arrangements - a party/wedding/funeral/etc.

Verses

Just because a verse isn't listed here doesn't mean I'm not interested in writing it. I adore all kinds of AUs, and welcome the chance to get creative with my muses. If you've seen a verse that another of my muses has, and you'd like to see this muse in something similar, let me know. You can also check out my 'Plot Ideas' tag, too. ^_^

Main Verse:

In Carradoc’s clan, every dragon had their specific duties. His duty was special -revered- and he didn’t have to earn it or even fight for it. His job was the result of his unique genetic condition - he was born with fully developed and fully functional male and female sex organs. As far as the clan was concerned, it made him (and several other dragons with similar genetics) perfect candidates for guarding over the eggs while they hatched, and raising the younglings after being born.

Carradoc always took his job with the utmost seriousness. He loved looking after the eggs, and helping the younglings to learn about their way of life. But then his clan - the last in Wales - was attacked by humans…humans with magic. When their Queen finally realized they were going to lose, she ordered Carradoc and the other clutch caretakers to rescue as many eggs as they could and flee. He was the only one that survived…and only just barely. He sports a long, jagged scar on his back which starts on his left shoulder and stretches diagonally all the way down to just below his right hip. One of his wings was permanently damaged, and flying causes him immense pain.

Now, in the modern age, Carradoc watches and waits. When will the eggs hatch? He doesn’t know. In the chaos of escape, he paid no attention to such things; he only grabbed what he could carry and fled. He fears that even once the younglings are born, he won’t be able to raise them properly in this technological world. But he knows he has to try. Until then, the dragon runs a quaint floral and herbs shop to pass the time. He tries to keep a low profile - and live a ‘normal’ human life. Typically he is soft spoken and well-mannered, but make no mistake if you so much as hint ay a threat to his eggs, you’ll see a side of him that will leave you quivering in fear. He will do whatever it takes to protect the clutch.

Historical Verses

Carradoc has been around for quite awhile. If you'd like to RP with him in something other than a modern timeline just ask. I'll be happy to plan something out with you.

Fantasy Verses

While Carradoc isn't a fandom OC, I'm happy to put him in a specific fandom if that's where your muse comes from. Just talk to me about it, and we can try to figure out how to make it work.

Current/Ongoing Threads

If your thread with Carradoc isn't listed here it's probably because it's been long enough since your last reply that I thought you'd dropped it. Message me to let me know you're still interested, and I'll happily add you to the list (with no pressure for a reply.) ♡

Liv:

Hocus Pocus Magic Potions (Dresden!Verse)

Sophia:

Not As It Appears (Historical!AU)

Stuff That's Good to Know Before Starting a Thread

Carradoc has a massive scar on his back that spans from one shoulder diagonally down to just below his hip on the opposite side. It's a magical wound and the scar always looks (and feels) like it's freshly healed. In his human form he usually hides it and accepts the pain and twinges. In his dragon form, he's lost the ability to fly. He still has his wings, but the act of trying to lift himself up off the ground is excruciating. It's possible the pain he's in will be shown, or thought about, or mentioned in passing in almost any RP. How much you have your muse know/react to that magical injury is entirely up to you. :)

Normally, Carradoc is taking care of 5 unhatched dragon eggs. Our RP doesn't have to revolve around the eggs hatching... but it can if that's a plot that interests you.

If we're writing in a verse where Carradoc is human, he will ALWAYS be a single father of six. Yes. SIX. (One of the eggs has twins inside, which is SUPER rare for dragons.)

I'm not really keen on any plots where any of the eggs get destroyed. That would literally RUIN Carr, and I'm not willing to do that amount of damage to his psyche.

Links

Please keep in mind, this blog is an ongoing work in progress. Not all of these links may lead somewhere, but they're here because they link to potential tags for this muse.

All Things Carradoc

Headcanons

Drabbles

All Threads

Ask Replies

Meme Replies

Aesthetics

Face

Special Links

Original Blog

Carradoc's Home

Carradoc's Kids

Return To Full Muse List

[wisdomrays]

QUESTIONS & ANSWERS: Why Was the Prophet Polygamous?: Part 2

Khadija was the Prophet's first wife. As mentioned above, she married him before his call to Prophethood. Even though she was 15 years his senior, she bore all of his children, except for Ibrahim, who did not survive infancy. Khadija was also his friend, the sharer of his inclinations and ideals to a remarkable degree. Their marriage was wonderfully blessed, for they lived together in profound harmony for 23 years. Through every trial and persecution launched by the Makkan unbelievers, she was his dearest companion and helper. He loved her very deeply and married no other woman while she was alive.

This marriage is the ideal of intimacy, friendship, mutual respect, support, and consolation. Though faithful and loyal to all his wives, he never forgot Khadija and mentioned her virtues and merits extensively on many occasions. He married another woman only 4 or 5 years after Khadija's death. Until that time, he served as both a mother and a father to his children, providing their daily food and provisions as well as bearing their troubles and hardships. To allege that such a man was a sensualist or driven by sexual lust is nonsensical.

'A'isha was the daughter of Abu Bakr, his closest friend and devoted follower. One of the earliest converts, Abu Bakr had long hoped to cement the deep attachment between himself and the Prophet through marriage. By marrying 'A'isha, the Prophet accorded the highest honor and courtesy to a man who had shared all the good and bad times with him. In this way, Abu Bakr and 'A'isha acquired the distinction of being spiritually and physically close to the Prophet.

'A'isha proved to be a remarkably intelligent and wise woman, for she had both the nature and temperament to carry forward the work of Prophetic mission. Her marriage prepared her to be a spiritual guide and teacher to all women. She became one of the Prophet's major students and disciples. Through him, like so many Muslims of that blessed time, her skills and talents were matured and perfected so that she could join him in the abode of bliss both as wife and as student.

Her life and service to Islam prove that such an exceptional person was worthy to be the Prophet's wife. She was one of the greatest authorities on hadith, an excellent Qur'anic commentator, and a most distinguished and knowledgeable expert on Islamic law. She truly represented the inner and outer qualities and experiences of Prophet Muhammad. This is surely why the Prophet was told in a dream that he would marry 'A'isha. Thus, when she was still innocent and knew nothing of men and worldly affairs, she was prepared and entered the Prophet's household.

Umm Salama of the Makhzum clan, was first married to her cousin. The couple had embraced Islam at the very beginning and emigrated to Abyssinia to avoid persecution. After their return, they and their four children migrated to Madina. Her husband participated in many battles and died after being severely wounded at the Battle of Uhud. Abu Bakr and 'Umar proposed marriage to her, aware of her needs and suffering as a destitute widow with children to support. She refused, believing that no one could be better than her late husband.

Some time after that, the Prophet proposed marriage. This was quite right and natural, for this great woman had never shied from sacrifice and suffering for Islam. Now that she was alone after having lived many years in the noblest Arabian clan, she could not be neglected and left to beg her way in life. Considering her piety, sincerity, and what she had suffered, she certainly deserved to be helped. By marrying her, the Prophet was doing what he had always done: befriending those lacking in friends, supporting the unsupported, and protecting the unprotected. In her present circumstances, there was no kinder or more gracious way of helping her.

Umm Salama also was intelligent and quick to understand. She had all the capacities and gifts to become a spiritual guide and teacher. When the Prophet took her under his protection, a new student to whom all women would be grateful was accepted into the school of knowledge and guidance. As the Prophet was now almost 60, marrying a widow with many children and assuming the related expenses and responsibilities can only be understood as an act of compassion that deserves our admiration for his infinite reserves of humanity.

Umm Habiba was the daughter of Abu Sufyan, an early and most determined enemy of the Prophet and supporter of Makkah's polytheistic and idolatrous religion. Yet his daughter was one of the earliest Muslims. She emigrated to Abyssinia with her husband, where he eventually renounced his faith and embraced Christianity. Although separated from her husband, she remained a Muslim. Shortly after that, her husband died and she was left all alone and desperate in exile.

The Companions, at that time few in number and barely able to support themselves, could not offer much help. So, what were her options? She could convert to Christianity and get help that way (unthinkable). She could return to her father's home, now a headquarters of the war against Islam (unthinkable). She could wander from house to house as a beggar, but again it was an unthinkable option for a member of one of the richest and noblest Arab families to bring shame upon her family name by doing so.

God recompensed Umm Habiba for her lonely exile in an insecure environment among people of a different race and religion, and for her despair at her husband's apostasy and death, by arranging for the Prophet to marry her. Learning of her plight, the Prophet sent an offer of marriage through the king Negus. This noble and generous action was a practical proof of: We have not sent you save as a mercy for all creatures (21:107).

Thus Umm Habiba joined the Prophet's household as a wife and student, and contributed much to the moral and spiritual life of those who learned from her. This marriage linked Abu Sufyan's powerful family to the Prophet's person and household, which caused its members to re-evaluate their attitudes. It also is correct to trace the influence of this marriage, beyond the family of Abu Sufyan and to the Umayyads in general, who ruled the Muslims for almost a century.

This clan, whose members had been the most fanatical in their hatred of Islam, produced some of Islam's most renowned early warriors, administrators, and governors. Without doubt, it was this marriage that began this change, for the Prophet's depth of generosity and magnanimity of soul surely overwhelmed them.

Zaynab bint Jahsh was a lady of noble birth and a close relative of the Prophet. She was, moreover, a woman of great piety, who fasted much, kept long vigils, and gave generously to the poor. When the Prophet arranged for her to marry Zayd, an African exslave whom he had adopted as his son, Zaynab's family and Zaynab herself were at first unwilling. The family had hoped to marry their daughter to the Prophet. But when they realized that the Prophet had decided otherwise, they consented out of deference to their love for the Prophet and his authority.

Zayd had been enslaved as a child during a tribal war. Khadija, who had bought him, had given him to Muhammad as a present when she married him. The Prophet had freed immediately him and, shortly afterwards, adopted him as his son. He insisted on this marriage to establish and fortify equality between the Muslims, and to break down the Arab prejudice against a slave or even freedman marrying a free-born woman.

The marriage was an unhappy one. The noble-born Zaynab was a good Muslim of a most pious and exceptional quality. The freedman Zayd was among the first to embrace Islam, and he also was a good Muslim. Both loved and obeyed the Prophet, but they were not a compatible couple. Zayd asked the Prophet several times to allow them to divorce. However, he was told to persevere with patience and not separate from Zaynab.

But then one day Gabriel came with a Divine Revelation that the Prophet's marriage to Zaynab was a bond already contracted: We have married her to you (33:37). This command was one of the severest trials the Prophet, had yet had to face, for he was being told to break a social taboo. Yet it had to be done for the sake of God, just as God commanded. 'A'isha later said: "Had the Messenger been inclined to suppress any part of the Revelation, surely he would have suppressed this verse."

Divine wisdom decreed that Zaynab join the Prophet's household, so that she could be prepared to guide and enlighten the Muslims. As his wife, she proved herself most worthy of her new position by always being aware of her responsibilities and the courtesies proper to her role, all of which she fulfilled to universal admiration.

Before Islam, an adopted son was considered a natural son. Therefore, an adopted son's wife was considered as a natural son's wife would be. According to the Qur'anic verse, former "wives of your sons proceeding from your loins" fall within the prohibited degrees of marriage. But this prohibition does not apply to adopted sons, for there is no real consanguinity. What now seems obvious was not so then. This deeply rooted tribal taboo was broken by this marriage, just as God had intended.

To have an unassailable authority for future generations of Muslims, the Prophet had to break this taboo himself. It is one more instance of his deep faith that he did as he was told, and freed his people from a legal fiction that obscured a biological, natural reality.

Juwayriya bint Harith the daughter of Harith, chief of the defeated Bani Mustaliq clan, was captured during a military campaign. She was held with other members of her proud family alongside her clan's "common" people. She was in great distress when she was taken to the Prophet, for her kinsmen had lost everything and she felt profound hate and enmity for the Muslims. The Prophet understood her wounded pride, dignity, and suffering; more important, he understood how to deal with these issues effectively. He agreed to pay her ransom, set her free, and offered to marry her.

When the Ansar and the Muhajirun realized that the Bani Mustaliq now were related to the Prophet by marriage, they freed about 100 families that had not yet been ransomed. A tribe so honored could not be allowed to remain in slavery. In this way, the hearts of Juwayriya and her people were won. Those 100 families blessed the marriage. Through his compassionate wisdom and generosity, the Prophet turned a defeat for some into a victory for all, and what had been an occasion of enmity and distress became one of friendship and joy.

Safiyya bint Huyayy was the daughter of the chieftains of the Jewish tribe of Khaybar, who had persuaded the Bani Qurayza to break their treaty with the Prophet. From her earliest days, she had seen her family and relatives oppose the Prophet. She had lost her father, brother, and husband in battles against the Muslims, and eventually was captured by them.

The attitudes and actions of her family and relatives might have nurtured in her a deep desire for revenge. However, 3 days before the Prophet reached Khaybar, she dreamed of a brilliant moon coming out from Madina, moving toward Khaybar, and falling into her lap. She later said: "When I was captured, I began to hope that my dream would come true." When she was brought before the Prophet as a captive, he set her free and offered her the choice of remaining a Jewess and returning to her people, or entering Islam and becoming his wife. "I chose God and his Messenger" she said. Shortly after that, they were married.

Elevated to the Prophet's household, she witnessed at first hand the Muslims' refinement and true courtesy. Her attitude to her past experiences changed, and she came to appreciate the great honor of being the Prophet's wife. As a result of this marriage, the attitude of many Jews changed as they came to see and know the Prophet closely. It is worth noting that such close relations between Muslims and non-Muslims can help people to understand each other better and to establish mutual respect and tolerance as social norms.

Sawda bint Zam'ah ibn Qays was the widow of Sakran. Among the first to embrace Islam, they had emigrated to Abyssinia to escape the Makkans' persecution. Sakran died in exile, and left his wife utterly destitute. As the only means of assisting her, the Prophet, though himself having a hard time making ends meet, married her. This marriage took place some time after Khadija's death.

Hafsa was the daughter of 'Umar ibn al-Khattab, the future second caliph of Islam. This good lady had lost her husband, who emigrated to both Abyssinia and Madina, where he was fatally wounded during a battle in the path of God. She remained without a husband for a while. 'Umar desired the honor and blessing of being close to the Prophet in this world and in the Hereafter. The Prophet honored this desire by marrying Hafsa to protect and to help the daughter of his faithful disciple.

Given the above facts, it is clear that the Prophet married these women for a variety of reasons: to provide helpless or widowed women with dignified subsistence; to console and honor enraged or estranged tribes; to bring former enemies into some degree of relationship and harmony; to gain certain uniquely gifted men and women for Islam; to establish new norms of relationship between people within the unifying brotherhood of faith in God; and to honor with family bonds the two men who were to be the first leaders of the Muslim community after his death. These marriages had nothing to do with self-indulgence, personal desire, or lust. With the exception of 'A'isha, all of the Prophet's wives were widows, and all of his post-Khadija marriages were contracted when he was already an old man. Far from being acts of self-indulgence, these marriages were acts of self-discipline.

Part of that discipline was providing each wife with the most meticulously observed justice, dividing equally whatever slender resources he allowed for their subsistence, accommodation, and allowance. He also divided his time with them equally, and regarded and treated them with equal friendship and respect. The fact that all of his wives got on well with each other is no small tribute to his genius for creating peace and harmony. With each of them, he was not only a provider but also a friend and companion.

The number of the Prophet's wives was a dispensation unique to him. Some of the merits and wisdom of this dispensation, as we understand them, have been explained. All other Muslims are allowed a maximum of four wives at one time. When that Revelation restricting polygamy came, the Prophet's marriages had already been contracted. Thereafter, he married no other women.

[pop-punklouis]

Hey Angel was absolutely the correct answer

hey angel gets paid absolute DIRT and i’m so sick of it lmao. it’s one of the best songs in their discography, and i’ll be so bold as to say it’s actually their best opener out of the five records. there was a lot of pressure for MITAM because it was 1D’s last record before the hiatus, and objectively their most ambitious with a more complex and mature sound (even though Four should’ve been the album to win a grammy but i digress…. another discussion for another day). MITAM was judged a lot harder due to zayn’s departure and it seemingly being the group’s swan song. the pressure was tremendous, especially off the back of a record like Four (again a discussion for another day…..). so, i personally feel like the decision to place Hey Angel as the opener of this album was genius for several reasons.

1) it automatically clued the listener in on the different approach that was taken sonically for the album, but it didn’t just throw you in the deep face first. it seamlessly blended the pop sound that had been ingrained in their music with the wide-sweeping influences of brit-rock like the beatles and oasis and especially the verve. the similarities in songs from northwest england bands with the likes of “bitter sweet symphony” with its soaring soundscape is so prominent in “hey angel,” and it absolutely works. 2) the energy of the song causes one to feel transported to another time. i always remember hearing the track for the first time during the MITAM listening party and seeing the clips spliced together with it— them traveling, them dancing on the private jets, them looking out the car window at the sunset as they’re being escorted back to their hotels, them feeling larger than life but also it all having quite an ethereal approach that felt fragile and introspective all at once. these clips weren’t made to feel like documenting the “fast times of a pop band,” but a more delicate glimpse into the group beyond it all and how these memories and these faces and these moments in time were being mentally snapshot and tucked away because it really felt like a time needing of documentation even if that documentation mainly sits between your ribs. it all just felt infinite in a way, and it only adds to the sound of the song. so it was perfect to include the shots they did for that track as it just impacted its meaning more imo for fans. 3) speaking of the meaning, i think the complexities inbetween the lyrical content is some of the best featured on a 1D record. i know it was written by julian bunetta and a couple others not in the group, but the way it touches on grief, the spiritual realm, questions shouted to the skies about life, the dialogue that is played out between the narrator and an angel— asking about the angel’s perspective of earth and how it would feel to change places with the angel. it’s much deeper and more symbolic than the group has gone before when it comes to these topics, and it should be championed for what it brings to the table. i think it all was done quite excellently and i never hear this part of it talked about enough. 4) in my opinion, it’s some of the group’s best vocal efforts they had in the band— both together and separate. no one in that track falters during their parts, and i think the strength and emotion felt in their verses depending on the singer is just beautiful because it’s obvious they all went into the song with slightly different ways of interpreting it from page to record, and i think these differences ultimately cause such a nuanced performance here. 5) because of the strength of the song, it was (again!) the perfect opener for anyone but especially critics as i personally believe the opener and closer of your records tell the most about the project and are two of the most memorable moments when someone finishes a full-length listen. this song was one that caused so many echelon music critics and industry professionals to take notice as it was a track i found singled out with a handful of others each time i read a review at the time.

beyond all of that though, the bridge?? are you kidding me?? you’re going to sleep on the bridge of this song?? the conjoined efforts of louis and liam building upon each other as they stress these feverish lyrics like “see you at the bar at the edge of my bed backseat of my car in the back of my head. i come alive when i hear your voice it’s a beautiful sound it’s a beautiful NOISE” that intensifies to a soaring vocal high before slamming back into the final chorus and harry’s powerful yet gritty “come to the other siiiIIIIDDEEE”?? you’re going to sleep on those things out of everything??

idk man, this might sound crazy but that entire section might be one of my favorite parts in any song ever and hey angel is definitely one of the most underrated songs not only in 1D’s discography but in pop music as a whole in my opinion, and i firmly believe that. hey angel is good. hey angel is great. hey angel is a track that will never sound dated and will have longevity bc it’s soundscape is not impacted by the era it was written in. all in all hey angel deserves more for everything it is. thanks.

[denialcity]

Honestly I can’t remember if it’s canon or just fanon that Madara was not the eldest but him barely being trained as heir and primarily just for battle makes so much his ethos and contradictions make sense. Like he cannot handle losing his last brother while he regularly sends his clansmen who have also lost just as much him to risk losing their lives and their loved ones. Him not being able to handle that to prioritize the clan makes sense while the clan abandon him for Hashirama ultimately.

Yeah we really have no idea if there's a canon birth order beyond "Madara is older than Izuna."

We made Madara the third because yeah, he makes a lot of sense as a younger son who wasn't meant to inherit! He did have several years between Taka and Hako dying and Taijima's death, so he got the most obvious lessons; strategy and how to negotiate and things like that. But he wasn't raised with the mindset that Taka and Hako were, where the clan as a whole is more important than any individual, and even though Taijima tried to teach him it just didn't sink in on an emotional level.

Even when Madara knows intellectually that sacrificing someone for the clan is the decision he should make, it will always feel wrong to him. Taka or Hako are able to make these decisions with little hesitation or remorse, because it is the right thing to do.

Luckily everybody lives-verse Madara gets to just fight people and run around pestering all his brothers (and eventually run Konoha's Shinobi Academy), so he's by far the happiest and most stable of the five. Blessed Sacrifice Madara is uhhhhhh A Different Story.

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

Skoodge was the closest in age of their batch. In fact, if Zim had never been cracked open from his cloning tube when he did, Skoodge would have been the runt of the batch. Irkens tended to pair up with smeetmates of those closest in age to them. It wasn’t too uncommon smeets would latch onto a partner for activities and training exercises naturally. It might be something biological that goes far beyond Irken records or data banks were able to explain. Smeets would pair up with either their tube-mate from their batch. Some of these bonds were so strong, the smeets stayed together throughout their adult life cycle.

In fact, the current Tallest, Almighty Tallest Red and Almighty Tallest Purple were so inseparable, they had to be made Tallest together. That and the first two previous Tallest had been tragically killed under mysterious circumstances. Having two Tallest who were smeetmates was just insurance put in place by the Control Brains to insure the Empire would thrive under their leadership.  

However, those two were really the exception and not the rule. It was more common to see smeetmates go their separate ways once training was over for their batch. Some kept in contact, but most didn’t. And judging that the only transmission Zim sent out to space was to the Tallest directly, it’s obvious he hasn’t kept contact with his smeetmate.  

-Snippet from Chapter 5 of Tech Support

---------

Been awhile since we saw skoodge huh?

Well, that’s mostly cause we don’t run into him again until Dib is 14. 

Skoodge was able to see the whole Re-encoding adjustment process on Judgementia, and that was the straw that broke Skoodge.... Zim was defective and sometimes downright cruel towards him... but he knew Zim didn’t deserve this.... there was a lot of treatment of Zim that he saw in himself, and lead to him to defect from the Empire, while everyone was distracted and in a panic over Zim... (stuff happened to the empire shortly after Zim marooned himself on earth, but I’ll save that for another comic... but skoodge does tell Zim.)

Long story short, Skoodge defected from the Irken armada and started traveling the galaxy, righting some wrongs his species has done. 

These are just bits and pieces from a conversation I have in my head with them for awhile now...

and if Zim seems more weary and a bit different then his usual Zim brand... The events of Judgementia changed him a lot... and he’s wen through a lot of his personal growth already (but he’s holding himself back) Skoodge came just at the right time when Zim felt lost in his life. 

Zim also has severe PTSD from Judgementia, and his whole species in general... which is why it takes him awhile to warm up to Skoodge and realize he’s an Irken that doesn’t want him dead. 

Skoodge had felt guilty for leaving Zim how he did, even though Zim had done to him many times over in the past. To find out he was alive was a shock and there are many conflicting emotions being had here. Skoodge had thought about Zim often or all the time, Zim hadn’t really at all... he didn’t even think he would be thought about by anyone else, not really...

Now, Smeetmates. Is it a romantic or platonic thing in my AU-verse? Who knows. It’s just a strong bond that’s hard to explain that isn’t either but somehow all of those things. Like in human terms, Skoodge is the closest thing to a biological “sibling” Zim has, and is probably the only Irken in the known Universe who doesn’t hate him. Take that for as you will.

Skoodge is a topic that will probably come up and I might do a short fanfic on this conversation... because a lot have things happened and I just wanted to draw this timejump now.

I kinda call it: “Two idiots avoid going to therapy by risking their lives in space adventures” arc. 

Anyways, I doodled some of this fast (the first two pannels were drawn back in december) so the pacing might be off from my typical comics, and I might write a fanfic of the full conversation. (I know for certain the topic of Skoodge will come up in the Brainbrane fic.) 

[robininthelabyrinth]

I've never done this before? Is this even the right place for prompts?! I found your fic a week ago, and you're so good! It's totally cool if you don't write this (it's so hokey) but I'd love to see His Excellency LWJ having to celebrate his birthday publicly. It's awful, he gets lots of bad presents. Maybe he gets ugly headdresses and sect leaders trying to hook him up with their daughters. His gremlin husband runs interference and gives him The Best Present. (NHS gets him something tasteful.)

ao3

Untamed verse

On the morning of his birthday, the Chief Cultivator, Lan Wangji, wakes up on time, as always, and finds his normally-fast-asleep husband wide awake and wearing nothing but a ribbon. He does not leave his bed for another shichen, missing breakfast; he will need to make it up to his family later.

He does not care. He knows it will be the only good gift he receives today.

-

The first gifts begin arriving at lunch: the political ones, the ones aimed at honoring the Chief Cultivator rather than Lan Wangji himself. Mediocre artwork that he would never allow to deface his walls, local ‘specialties’ so vile that even Wei Wuxian chokes on them, invitations to come view various local attractions that are so obviously requests for assistance that they can barely be described as being badly-hidden.

At least four different sects gift him with empty scrolls that are just the right size for him to write the Lan sect rules into and which are obviously designed for expressly that purpose. It is not subtle. 

The more irritating Lan clan elders forgo even this obvious step and simply provide him with the sect rules themselves – again. There is a fairly obvious emphasis on the provisions that would suggest that his marriage to Wei Wuxian might not have been the wisest decision he’d ever made.

Lan Wangji accepts them all, and wants none.

-

In the afternoon, Lan Wangji opens letters. Some of them, blissfully, relate to actual work he has to complete in his role as Chief Cultivator. Most do not.

Several of them offer – in not especially subtle terms – their daughters or sisters or nieces to be his concubine, since obviously his current spouse will be incapable of bearing children for him.

Wei Wuxian finds those letters, and spends at least a shichen cackling, pretending to be pregnant. There is a brief interlude. Later, Wei Wuxian even suggests that Lan Wangji consider accepting the offers just long enough to go judge the quality of “the goods” that he is being offered before rejecting it as insulting and degrading to all those involved.

He stops only after Lan Wangji notes that the niece referenced in the letter he was holding is younger than Lan Sizhui. They both agree never to discuss it again.

-

Sect Leader Yao invites him to come around to a family dinner sometime. 

This is, somehow, even more insulting than the concubines.

-

Shortly before dinner, Lan Wangji receives the gifts which have been categorized as personal.

His uncle gives him practical things, as he has always done – a new sheath for Bichen and replacement strings for Wangji, in this instance – and Lan Wangji supposes that he should appreciate them more than he does. It is only that his uncle often gives him practical things, and it does not feel as though any particular effort has been made regarding his birthday.

His brother sends him a painting. It is lovely. Lan Wangji would rather have seen his brother, who remains in seclusion.

Lan Sizhui has thoughtfully composed a small song for him, as he has done every year since Lan Wangji adopted him, and he and Lan Jingyi perform it together. Lan Wangji has not yet found a way to tell his beloved adopted son that his top-notch skills at musical cultivation do not translate into a talent for composing, and long ago resigned himself to taking the secret to his grave. The song does not cause his qi to deviate on the spot; that is already something.

Lan Jingyi gifts him with a rabbit. It might have been a good gift if it wasn’t one of his own.

-

When night falls, Lan Wangji receives the gifts which have been deemed ‘important’ – in other words, the ones from the sect leaders of the other Great Sects. Lan Wangji is not sure why these gifts are always presented at night, as it means he will not be able to write appropriate thank-you notes until the morning.

It occurs to him, not for the first time, that perhaps that is the reason.

Jin Ling sends him something from the Lanling treasury – a dagger, gilt gold. Lan Wangji would never use such a gaudy object. Wei Wuxian suggests pawning it on their next night-hunt, and Lan Wangji suspects that that may in fact be its intended use, beyond Jin Ling simply wanting to get rid of the thing.

Jiang Chen sends him a horrifically ugly statue.

“Did – did he go blind?” Wei Wuxian asked, staring at it with an expression of awe, and possibly fear. Lan Wangji does not blame him.

It is truly beyond the pale. Mere words cannot encompass its hideousness.

“No,” Lan Wangji said grimly. “He will insist on seeing it on his next visit. Politics therefore require me to place it in a public location.”

“…has he done this before?”

“There are sixteen in the closet.”

Wei Wuxian covers his mouth, but the motion is inadequate to conceal his laughter. Lan Wangji studies the statue – Jiang Cheng truly outdid himself this year, as Lan Wangji is unable to even determine what was the original subject matter the (potentially deranged) artist was attempting to depict – and mentally vows to himself that the hairpiece he invariably presents to Jiang Cheng in return will be even more grotesque than usual this year.

Possibly something that will make his hair stick up like a cockatiel.

“At least Nie Huaisang got you something tasteful,” Wei Wuxian comments, unrolling the artwork and holding it up against the wall. Lan Wangji hopes he is not planning on putting it there permanently. “This is a perfectly lovely cityscape! Nothing like those terrible ones from earlier.”

“It is pornography,” Lan Wangji says, and Wei Wuxian chokes.

“Are you sure?” his husband wheezes. “I don’t – it’s a cityscape.”

Lan Wangji is sure. He does not need to check to confirm it. It has always been pornography.

However, because he loves his husband, he walks over to the table and examines it briefly.

“The second window in the inn,” he finally says.

Wei Wuxian squints at the painting. “Which one is the inn..? The second – oh. Oh. Wait! That’s you and me!”

“Yes,” Lan Wangji says. “It usually is.”

“Usually – no, you know what, I’m not going to ask you which ones they are. I’m going to examine each painting you own until I find the rest of them.” He paused. “Can I hang this one up?”

“Not in the main room,” Lan Wangji compromises. Mentally, he swears revenge against Nie Huaisang. 

He does not expect anything to come of that oath. Unlike Jiang Cheng, Nie Huaisang has proven irritatingly difficult to annoy, even when one is making a sincere effort.

On second thought, perhaps that is for the best. 

“Well,” Wei Wuxian said, after he’s finished hanging up the offending item. “After seeing all those presents, I feel like I’ve fallen down on the job. All I have to offer you is more of the same thing I gave you this morning.”

It is nice, Lan Wangji contemplates, to be proven wrong in his assumption that he would receive only one nice gift all day.

[adamwatchesmovies]

Prey (2022)

We live in a universe that saw 2022’s Prey released straight to Hulu (Disney+ in territories like Canada) while 2018's The Predator made it to theaters. I’m starting to think maybe this is the evil mirror-verse. Easily the best film in the franchise since the original, it offers everything you want: lots of action and plenty of the franchise’s trademark gore, interesting spins on material we’ve seen before, a memorable protagonist with a satisfying character arc and top-notch filmmaking.

In 1719, Naru (Ambert Midthunder), a young Commanche woman, wants to prove herself a capable hunter like her brother, Taabe (Dakota Beavers). During a search party, she encounters a creature unlike any other: it can effortlessly go toe-to-toe with a bear, turn invisible and wields impossibly sophisticated weapons. This Predator hunts for sport and humans are its preferred prey.

This is the story of the first encounter between humans and the Predator. More importantly, it’s the story of Naru showing everyone who doesn't believe in her wrong. Taabe doesn’t think she can do it and neither do the other men in her tribe, the French voyageurs invading their land, or the Predator. Having your protagonist dismissed by everyone when the audience can see their ingenuity, bravery, and skill at work is a sure way to make them someone you cheer for. You can’t wait to see her in action and believe me, you won’t be disappointed, particularly since the way Naru overcomes the many obstacles put in her path are not immediately obvious.

A human protagonist you’re eager to cheer for is nice and all, but what about the monster that’s been carrying the franchise? Once more, you’ll be pleased. This is not quite the same alien hunter we’ve seen before. Its goals are largely the same: to kill its prey and collect skins, skulls & other trophies, but this film is not set in the present day, which means the technology in everyone's arsenal is way different. Some gadgets will seem familiar, others wholly new. Call me sadistic, but the spaceman tech gets used on a lot of people to ghoulishly enjoyable results.

What makes this use of the “character” so good goes beyond new toys and gore. Director Dan Trachtenberg and his co-writer Patrick Aison know we’ve seen the Predator in 6 other movies and that much of the mystery surrounding it has disappeared. They play with your expectations, managing to surprise you even when you think you’ve seen it all already. The script also draws an interesting parallel between this merciless hunter and the film's human antagonists: the French voyageurs. Like the Predator, they're also invaders from a faraway land who are looking to come in and take what they want - beaver, buffalo skins, etc. - regardless of what the repercussions to the natives might be.

There are many elegant flourished courtesy of Dan Trachtenberg along the way. All of the Comanche people speak English while the Europeans speak French so there's no need for subtitles or a Hunt for Red October-style translation transition. The franchise is given its equivalent of Ellen Ripley in Naru without her being a copy in any way, the end-credit epilogue is cleverly done and non-intrusive, Midthunder gives an excellent performance and this Predator is given its own memorable personality. My only criticism is that the film has several dark scenes set at night. In the theater? It'd be no problem but at home, you'll have to make sure the lights are properly dimmed and the windows are covered.

If the Alien and Predator franchises have a real-life rivalry going on, the latter has officially pulled ahead since it now has more good movies than its competitor. Prey is so good it's a crime everyone will be seeing it at home. (August 19, 2022)

[btsficsforthehumble]

adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different

2. Not based on or conforming to what is generally done or believed

pairing: reader x ot7

genre: college au; angst, fluff, smut, poly, ot7

Summary: You begin your first year at a prestigious university, set out on achieving your academic goals when a series of men step into your life that change the way you view the definition of love.

A/N: Small s/o to Fae from sope-and-shine for giving me great inspiration for this chapter!

Part Three

Warnings: none in this chapter

Word count: 1.8k

You continue down the street, noticing yourself hold a faint smile from your time with Jimin. You have a feeling Intro to Comp will be more fun than you anticipated with him to keep you company. You really appreciated his easy-going nature that allowed playful digs to seem second nature between you two, even if you had just met.

You glance up at the sun, now starting to feel more intense as it approaches midday. Noticing, you slip your sunglasses out of your backpack and look at your phone to double check directions --- you weren’t too confident getting around campus quite yet. As you are looking at your GPS app, you see a text pop up from an unknown number.

*Hi y/nnnnn it’s your favorite seat partner from intro to comp!! Hehe*

You roll your eyes at Jimin’s text, and save his number.

*You are my only seat partner from intro to comp, Jimin. It’s been one day.*

*:( Don’t be a meanie, y/n. You know I’d be your favorite no matter what :DD*

*Who's to say? Maybe next time I’ll sit closer to Yoongi*

*GASP. You wouldn’t dare*

*Are you willing to put money on that?*

As you text Jimin, you follow the directions on your phone and end up at a cute little grocery store, with a built in cafe off to the side. When you notice it, you get some spring in your step. After seeing the coffee that the other students had in class you were yearning for a cup of your own, especially after your hectic morning.

The barista sent you a smile as you read the menu. Deciding on a nice warm cappuccino, you tell her your order and walk over to the side to receive your drink when she finishes.

She rings you out, and as you wait for your drink you begin running though your mental grocery list. Thankfully your apartment had a decent kitchen, which you knew you’d get good use of as you enjoyed cooking when you had a chance. Not to mention, your parents owned a small bakery in your hometown which meant you were well versed in the art of baking, and often found yourself baking during stressful moments in your life as a distraction. Maybe while you were here you’d pick up some basic supplies for baking… sugar, flour, baking soda, vanilla extract….

Your train of thought was quickly cut off by the barista, sliding your drink across the counter with a smile. You give her one back as you thank her, and stroll over to where you think the baking aisle would be. You take your time, checking out the products in each section to make sure you got everything you needed, beyond just your baking supplies.

As you near the paper goods aisle, you barely see a figure swing around the corner and run smack-dab into a paper towel display, which happened to be less than a meter from you. Unfortunately, the collision caused several of the rolls to go flying --- and one flying hard enough to knock the fresh coffee right out of your hand.

The chaos of the moment causes you to stand a little open mouthed while you stare at the now half-empty cardboard coffee cup rolling on it’s side away from you.

Toward the top of your field of vision you see a pair of men’s sneakers, which causes you to scan up towards his face. He is looking at you with the widest doe-eyed shocked expression you have possibly ever seen. His arms are half reached out, as if he wants to help, but can’t as he already caused the damage. One of the arms reaching out at you has a patchwork of black ink, trailing down over his toned muscles to his knuckles. His oversized grey t-shirt and loose jeans seem to swallow him a bit, which only adds to the almost child-like innocence of his wide eyes. Wavy brown hair frames his face, accentuating his masculine jawline.

Once your eyes connect for a few seconds, surely both wide in shock, he makes a squeaking noise and bends down to collect the scattered rolls.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going and I took the turn too fast, I’ll go buy you another coffee as soon as I pick these up---” His voice, while speaking rapidly, remained soft and delicate, obviously embarrassed at his mistake. When you bend down to join him in collecting the runaway towels, he cuts himself off to again look at you with a wide-eyed expression.

You smile at him, the surprise from the situation fading as you stretch your upper body as far as you can to grab one that rolled particularly far. “It’s okay, we all can be clumsy sometimes. I promise it’s not that big of a deal, it was just a coffee.” You give him a warm smile in reassurance, wanting to ease his obvious anxiety.

You both stand up, having collected the spilled display and him grabbing your abandoned coffee cup. “Um, what were you drinking? I’ll get you a new one, it’s the least I could do.” His blush deepens with his question, and he nervously glances off to the side as he grabs his elbow of the hand holding the empty cup to make himself smaller.

“It was a cappuccino… but honestly, you really don’t need to, it’s okay.” Sending him another warm smile, you hope to convey your ease at the situation.

“No, I want to. I’ll be right back, okay?” He holds your gaze for a second, seeming to double check that you weren’t going to run away on him.

“Okay.” Once you let out your reply, he sends you a quick smile as he turns around and lightly jogs away from you, back the direction you came from.

You can't help but notice the subtle ripple of his muscles across his shoulder blades as he does so. For being so meek, he sure had quite the muscular build under those baggy clothes. He definitely was “yummy” to use the word Jimin so aptly applied to Yoongi earlier. At the memory, you couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle under your breath.

You scan the area quickly, making sure your run in with the boy didn’t leave a mess anywhere in the store. After seeing it clear, you glance back over your shoulder to watch him talking to the same barista. You could tell, even from this distance, that he seemed slightly embarrassed and had a pink tinge to his cheeks. The duality of this guy honestly is blowing your mind… his tattoos and muscular physique would give the impression that he would be super intimidating and confident, but by the way he blushed at attention so easily and was so timid when he apologized to you showed that he was was really a big sweetheart.

As he was now waiting for the barista to remake your drink, standing in the same spot you occupied a few minutes ago, you felt awkward hovering in the spot of the incident. After a quick glance back at him, you thought he would be able to find you pretty easily if you ventured down the aisle further. An aisle down from the paper goods, you found yourself in the exact aisle you were looking for.

Your mind quickly abandoned any prior thought as you took stock of the baking supplies the store had to offer. It looks like you’d be spending more on groceries today than you had anticipated.

“Um, here’s your coffee…” The boy from earlier had returned before you realized any time had passed. Caught, you looked at him, now looking at you, with a hesitant look on his face, as he saw the almost comical amount of stuff you had balanced in your arms. Now embarrassed a tad, you realize you have no hand to take the coffee from him, and it seems like it had just occurred to him too. He looked back and forth between the coffee in his hand and your ridiculously full arms and quickly offered, “I’ll be right back. I’ll get you a basket.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much. I’m sorry, I guess I got carried away!” You sheepishly respond to his kind offer. It was above what a normal person would do. He nodded his head quickly and did his half-jog thing again to go back to the front of the store. You weren’t getting tired of the view, to be honest.

Before you even knew it, he was back and gently removing items from the tetris you created in your arms of baking supplies. “Thank you so much, you really don't have to do any of this…” you feel slightly guilty for the boy’s kindness.

“No, it’s really okay, I shouldn’t have thrown paper towels at you.” As he speaks, he catches your eye and gives you a smile you could only compare to a cute bunny or other small adorable creature. You couldn’t help but fall just a little in love with him right there in the aisle. Now comfortable enough to joke with you, you left out a surprised laugh in response. You tip your head back slightly and feel your cheeks squish up without warning.

“I suppose you got me there. Maybe try to lower the aggression levels on your next grocery store run,” you egg him on slightly, a teasing smile remaining on his face.

“What would be the fun in that?” His eyes hold contact just a millisecond longer than normal, and you swear you see a glint of mischief in them. Ah, so bunny-boy knows at least a little how much of a hunk he is.

“Do you flirt with pretty girls at the store by knocking the coffee out of their hands for fun then?” Your eyebrow is raised slightly, and your tone stays as a teasing lilt.

Apparently at his banter limit, he blushes and gapes for a second. “Just teasing you. Thank you again for the coffee,” you reassure. Full basket and fresh coffee in hand, you flash him one last grin before you make your way around him to head towards the register.

As you leave the store, re-entering the street, you can’t help but hope you run into that guy again. He seemed like a genuinely sweet person that you’d love to be friends with. Starting towards the direction of your apartment, you ponder the chances.

You also ponder what baked treat you were going to throw the rest of your afternoon into. After some mental deliberation, you settled on muffins. Easy to take with you for that pesky morning calculus class. Ugh, at the thought of calculus you groaned inside a little. Not only did you have to grapple with the boring math, but you now have to grapple with the decidedly not so boring boys in your class.

[featherymalignancy]

PART TWO — The Eyes of Texas: A Rowaelin Origin Story 🏐 🍺 ♥️ 

  Long before Cash and Nesta, there was Rowan and Aelin.

Rowan Whitethorn—a Navel academy graduate and recently discharged second lieutenant from the United States Navy—takes a break from studying of the police academy exam in Los Angeles to fly back to his native Hawaii and compete in a twos volleyball tournament with his ex, one of the best sand players on the amateur circuit.

Beyond Remy’s devious machinations to win Rowan back, the biggest impediment to victory is the so-called Ashryver twins, a pair of cousins from Miami with a reputation of their own. Rowan can’t help but admire the gorgeous and sharp-tongued Aelin Galathynius, who’s more than ready to give Remy a run for her money—both on the court and in the race for Rowan’s affection.

This takes place in the same AU-verse as my Nessian story In Vino Veritas, about four years before. 

This a two-shot, you can find  PART I here.

The Eyes of Texas, PART TWO

By midnight, Rowan knew he was in deep shit.

They’d migrated to another bar by that time, Aelin practically in his lap as they traded stories about college and their friends. Rowan found himself caught between despair and delight as he listened to Aelin speak, unsure if he should be reveling in the attention from a woman of her caliber, or fretting that it couldn’t last.

It wasn’t just that Aelin was beautiful, though he was admittedly so mesmerized by those blue eyes and that dazzling smile that he had to actively avoid staring.

She was funny, too.

And not “when a sexy woman makes a joke you feel oddly compelled to laugh” type of funny, either.

She was fucking hilarious.

She’d had him in stitches earlier with a story about getting the business-end of her grandmother’s chancla after she’d gone to Easter mass with blue teeth from her candy basket, and he’d hardly stopped laughing since.

Rowan had always been a somewhat serious person—even more so after Lyria’s death—but Aelin made him feel...younger. Lighter. And he might have felt guilty for that, except he’d had the oddest sensation throughout the evening that Lyria was there, laughing alongside him.

And—as if gorgeous and hysterical weren’t enough—Aelin was also incredibly bright. Despite the rigors of her volleyball schedule, she was a neuroscience and psychology double major, with plans to attend medical school and become a psychiatrist when she graduated.

It was an answer that Rowan hadn’t expected when he’d asked what she was studying, but somehow it suited her. The ambition, the focus—it explained in part why she was such an incredible athlete. Rowan knew better than anyone that it took more that height and muscles to be a success in the sport, and even among the juggernauts who’d completed in the tournament, Aelin had been in a class of her own.

She’d grown oddly bashful when he’d pressed her about her volleyball career, at which point she admitted she’d held off med school applications to accept a place on the AVP tour.

“They’ve offered you a spot?” Rowan’d asked.

Aelin’s cheeks had gone slightly pink.

“They called after the tournament,” she’d said. “A scout was there to watch me play.”

“Aelin, that’s incredible.”

At this Aelin’s smile had relaxed into something sensuous that had made Rowan’s stomach tighten.

“Couldn’t have done it without, guapo. ”

Now as Ro sat twirling the tail of Aelin’s braid around a tattooed finger, he tried to remind himself that he needed to shut all these bright and shiny feelings down. Aelin had been a danger to the comfortable numbness Rowan had been living in since the moment she stepped onto the sand of that volleyball court. Now, having heard her laugh and flirt and speak Spanish, she’d become lethal.

He told himself that if he was smart, he’d kiss her cheek right now and tell her goodnight. It would probably take him several days to extract her from pleasant place she’d settled under his skin, but he could stop the bleeding now. If he was smart, he most definitely would not sleep with her.

But apparently he wasn’t smart, because when she’d slyly tugged him to his feet and coaxed him into one of the private closets marked “For Staff Only”, he didn’t stop her.

He also didn’t stop her when she kissed him, tongue sliding effortlessly into his mouth and she hands tracked under his shirt.

It was a bad idea to want Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius the way Ro did, but he found as her hands continued their exploration that he didn’t care. Even if he could only have her for one night, he would make it enough.

“Your body is insane,” Aelin breathed, tracing the ridges of his abs in a way that made him shudder.

He couldn’t help the self-satisfied smirk which tugged at his mouth as he kissed her again.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

At this Aelin paused to laugh, eyes sparkling with wicked delight.

“Was that a big dick comment?” She said. “I knew you had it in you, Whitethorn.”

Rowan debated going for the obvious joke about having ‘it’ in her soon before quickly deciding against it. He was tipsy; it didn’t mean he had to be a jackass, too.

“Let’s go, you little troublemaker,” Ro said, reaching for the door which led from the closet to the secluded hallway.

Aelin’s answering grin was staggering in its seductive force. She casually leaned against the door, blocking his exit as she pulled him towards her by the beltloops.

“Why, are you afraid of getting caught?”

He grabbed the hand that was attempting to slip into his pants, pinning it over her head and bowing into her so she could feel how hard he already was.

“No. But the kind of sex I want, you can’t give me here.”

This seemed to stun her into aroused silence, and he reveled in the victory of rendering Aelin Galathynius speechless. However, she recovered quickly, leaning in to nip his lip.

“Fair warning: I’m not easily impressed.”

Her wrists still caught in his grip, he bent to whisper in her ear, grinding a little against her as he did so.

“So you say, but I’m going to guess you’ve only ever been with boys, Aelin. You may not realize it, but I don’t think you have any idea how good sex can actually be.”

Her legs went slightly weak at that, and he slid his knee between her thighs to keep her upright.

“And you’re going to show me?” She asked.

All the things he wanted to do to her flashed in his mind, and Rowan had to fend off a groan as he hardened further. Much more of this and they would end up doing it in this closet.

“I am,” he replied simply.

Aelin’s answering laugh was husky.

“How are you the same guy who didn’t have the cojones to ask for my number this afternoon?”

He recognized the gesture for what it was: an attempt to gain back the upper hand in their continued tug-of-war for dominance.

Turned on by her bravura, he let her, adding with a shrug, “I guess I’m more of a ‘lady in the streets’ type.”

Still, unwilling to cede to her completely he shifted his thigh where it was still nestled between her legs. She moaned a little, moving against him almost involuntarily to get the friction she needed.

Despite the desire for privacy enough to make Aelin scream herself hoarse, Ro found the idea of her rubbing one out on him too hot to resist. Rotating his knee, he pushed up until she was practically riding his thigh.

Aelin’s nails dug into his forearm as the seam of her shorts hit the exact right spot. He increased the pressure, and she moaned again, the sound growing more fractured as he snapped open one her overall straps and squeezed her firm breast over the lace. God, her tits were perfect.

“Stop or I’m going to come,” she said, teeth gritted.

Rowan didn’t bother to fend off a self-satisfied smile.

“You’re this easy to set off, Galathynius?” He laughed softly. “God, the things I’m gonna fucking to do to you.”

“I thought you said we weren’t going to bang here.”

“We aren’t,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t have an orgasm.”

“You seriously want my first one with you to be while I’m fully clothed?”

He glanced up to meet her overcome blue eyes.

“I just want to show you how many different ways I have to make you scream, Aelin.”

Taking a fistful of the denim jumper, he tugged up roughly until the fabric was splitting her. Even though all her clothes he could see what a gorgeous little pussy she had. The realization he’d soon be inside of her made Ro’s cock ache.

“Fuck,” Aelin said, hips canting forward as he used the back-and-forth friction to drag her closer to release. “This is not how I imagined things going when I brought you in here.”

Rowan kissed her neck.

“Better or worse?”

“Better,” she said. “So much better. Mierda .”

Her body tightened then relaxed slightly against him, and were he inside of her, he knew she’d be clenching around him right now.

“You have a gorgeous come face,” he told her honestly.

“I bet you do, too.”

He couldn’t fight a grin.

“Would you like to find out?”

“Yes please. ”

He pressed forward to kiss her again, their tongues tangling as he breathed, “let’s get out of here.”

Needing no further prompting, Aelin reached behind her to twist open the door before slipping out, Rowan behind her.

Taking his hand, she tugged him towards the exit, her phone already out with a map pulled up.

“Where are we headed?” He asked. “I might be able to help.”

Aelin’s answering smile was cryptic.

“It’s not far. The app is saying a 17-minute walk. Hang on.”

With this she dialed  a number before bringing the phone to her ear. Whoever she was calling—one of her cousins, Ro suspected—picked up on the second ring, and she began giving orders in rapid Spanish. After a minute she hung up, flashing Ro a simpering smile as she batted her lashes.

“Shall we?”

Rowan couldn’t fight a laugh.

“Did you just kick your cousins out of the room?”

“Suite,” she said with a growing smirk. “But who’s counting?”

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said. “We could have made it work.”

Her gaze heated, burning hot enough that Ro felt his cock stirring again. He watched as her fingers nimbly went to one of the long braids hanging over her shoulder, deftly undoing the plait.

“We don’t need an audience for all the filthy things I want you to do to me.”

He groaned.

“You’re killing me.”

She smiled, working the other braid free and giving her curtain of blonde hair a shake. Christ, he wanted to run his hands though it, then bunch in it his hands while he fucked that pretty little mouth.

She smirked as if she knew what he was thinking, even biting her lip a little in suggestion.

“Something wrong?” She said.

He only laughed.

“Completely the opposite.”

She smiled, tugging him down the street for ten blocks or so before making a left and heading towards a glittering glass building.

The Ritz Carlton.

Rowan let out a low whistle as they entered the marble lobby.

“You keeping secrets, Galathynius?”

She bit her lip.

“My dad is...not poor.”

“Define ‘not poor’.”

“He owns twenty-three luxury hotels in Miami?”

Rowan’s throat felt a bit scratchy.

“You’re a millionaire.”

Her grin was sheepish and slightly guilty.

“Kinda?”

He must have looked confused.

“I mean, yeah, with a b.”

Holy shit, her family were billionaires.

She studied him for a moment when he stopped walking, trying to take it all in. He wasn’t usually one to be embarrassed about money or his upbringing, but she was stupid rich. He suddenly felt out of his depth.

“This is why I didn’t tell you,” she said quietly. “It makes people see me differently.”

At this he glanced up, reading the sadness and loneliness in her eyes.

“It doesn’t change anything,” he found himself saying.

Dating a girl that rich, especially as a cop in Vice Squad—that could be complicated. But that’s not what this was; after tonight, Ro would likely never see her again. Besides, she’d made an effort not to make it a big deal, and hadn’t thrown money around to impress him even when she easily could have. If she could set it aside for the evening, so could he.

Also, he really wanted to fuck her. She was a girl begging for pleasure, and he wanted to be able to show her things she hadn’t experienced even in her wildest fantasies.

Aelin seemed to read the acceptance in his eyes because she tugged him towards the elevator, punching 36 before pushing him against the wall to kiss him.  Sliding his hands down her thighs, he hoisted her easily into his arm, crushing her against him.

When the door opened he didn’t bother putting her down, simply breathed against her mouth, “where?”

She gestured to the left and he headed towards the single door at the end of the hall. Producing a key from her back pocket, she slid to her feet before unlocking the door and ushering him inside.

Ro told himself not to gawk as they stepped farther into the palatial space, but it was impossible.

The lavishly-appointed suite was furnished with a living room, full kitchen, bedroom, and formal dining area, floor-to-ceiling window along the far wall looking out onto the Pacific Ocean.

There was a bottle of expensive Cuban rum and several glasses sitting on the marble island, half-smoked Monte Cristo cigars resting in a nearby tray. The Ashryvvers, it seemed, were no strangers to the finer things in life.

“Do you want a drink?” Aelin asked, trailing a hand down his back and observing him as he took in their surroundings.

He turned to her to say yes, but when he caught sight of the heat in her gaze he changed him mind.

“Later,” he said, walking her backwards into the wall closest to the bedroom.

“Thank god,” she said as he threaded a hand through hers to pull her arm above her head. “I don’t think I could bear to wait.”

Rowan chuckled, teeth grazing her ear as he said, “Does that mean you’re going to be a good girl and do as I say?”

Her blue eyes snapped to him, blazing with defiance.

“What makes you think I’m that type of girl?”

“In your everyday life, you like to be in control?”

“Yes.”

Rowan nodded.

“That’s why.”

“I don’t follow.”

“You’re used to responsibility and keeping all the plates spinning, but I bet deep down, you fantasize about being able to let go; you just don’t know how.”

She scoffed, through the sound turned to a breathy exhale as he kissed her neck.

“And what makes you think that I’ll be able to let go with you, a total stranger?”

He pulled back, kissing her softly on the lips.

“Because I am going to make you feel so good and so safe, you won’t have a choice. Do you trust me, Aelin?”

“I have no real reason to,” she hedged. “We just met.”

“But...” he said onto the sensitive skin of her throat.

She paused, muscles in her neck gorgeously taut as he tugged her earlobe with his teeth.

“Díos ayúdame,” she choked out. “Yes, I do.”

“Good girl,” he praised. “Let’s get you naked.”

Throwing the overall strap he’d previously unbuckled over her shoulder, he unsnapped the other. He knelt as he coaxed the whole garment down her hips, pausing to lave her tattoo.  He resisted the urge to venture between her legs, enjoying the way she bucked her hips towards the heat of his mouth as it pressed against her low belly.

“Patience,” he said, nipping the sensitive skin.

She settled slightly at that, and Ro ran his hands up her torso with with deliberate slowness, palms skating effortlessly under her lacy bralette and tugging it off in a single, fluid gesture.

He glanced down at her and groaned.

“Fucking Christ.”

Her breasts were flawlessly round and dark enough to suggest she spend a decent amount of time tanning topless, her tight nipples framed by matching diamond studs. He ran a finger over the jewelry, laughing at her shudder of pleasure.

“Are you crazy, Galathynius? You’re a D1 athlete!”

She chuckled.

“I tape them up to play. Why, you don’t like?”

He glanced up to meet her gaze.

“I didn’t say that.”

The truth was they suited her: elegant femininity edged in wildness.

“You approve then.”

He reached down to tease her, brushing a knuckle against her left nipple until it pebbled.

“They’re gorgeous.”

Aelin preened a bit at that.

“Tits this nice deserved a little something extra,” she said with a smirk.

Rowan was inclined to agree.

“These real diamonds, princess?”

“They were a gift from Aedion.”

At this Rowan stiffened, unable to smother the discomfort the idea inspired. Aelin only laughed, catching his face in her hands and kissing him lightly on the lips.

“I’m playing with you, tonto. Obviously he and Galen don’t know about these or they’d hit the roof. Besides,” she said, pert nose wrinkling slightly. “We don’t share things like that with each other. We’re close but...not that close.”

Rowan couldn’t hold back a relieved laugh, which only made Aelin’s grin widen.

“You should have seen the look on your face, though.”

“You’re trouble,” he told her.

“You love it,” she shot back, leaning in so her breasts brushed his chest.

Yeah he fucking did.

Crushing her into another kiss, her massaged her breasts, palms scraping her nipples. When they’d grown hard from his machinations he bent to taste them, loving the feel of her fingers as they wound into his hair and tugged.

“Take off your clothes already,” she said, breathless. “I want to know if your dick is as big as it feels.”

He grabbed her wrist and guided it between his legs.

“See for yourself.”

Deft as a snake, she had a hand down the front of boxer briefs, stroking him twice with a firm grip.

He planted a hand on the wall beside her head, breathing through his nose as he bowed into her wicked touch.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked as she unbuckled his belt and pushed his chinos off his carved waist until they hung low on his hips.

“You.”

“What about me?”

He bent to kiss her deeply again. God, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been this turned on.

“About what you’d look like on your knees with my cock in your mouth.”

She gave a sensuous chuckle.

“Dream on, querido. ”

He only grinned in response.

“No one likes a liar, Galathynius.”

“What reason would I have to ever suck you off?”

“The same reason you’d let me tie you up: you want to know what it’s like to let someone else be in control.”

“I never said I wanted to be tied up,” she said, voice turning to a groan as he pushed her underwear aside to dip two fingers inside of her.

“You didn’t have to,” he said, holding up his fingers so they glistened in the moonlight pouring in from the open balcony doors. “You’re soaked.”

She didn’t respond, merely leaned forward to licked the offending digits clean in a way that told him that not only did she want to suck his dick, she was going to be excellent at it.

He hardened at the thought, even as he forced a calming breath. If this was his only chance with her, he intended to savor every second.

He wanted tears— actual tears—of pleasure from her. He wanted to hear her beg. And not just some breathy “ please, more ” bullshit, either. He wanted to her to plead—for him, for release, for anything and everything he was willing to give her.

He wanted all of it and more, but to have it, he needed to be patient with her. It meant going slow, and sending her off the edge several times before he ever slipped inside of her.

Gently collaring her throat, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips before easing her off the wall and into the waiting bedroom.

“You are so beautiful,” he told her.

She smirked, eyes flashing.

“Bet you say that to all the girls you fuck.”

“I’ve never fucked a woman as beautiful as you.”

It was out before he could stop it, and he had to fend off the the twinge of guilt it produced. Still, he couldn’t regret saying it, because it was true; Aelin was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met.

Aelin, seeming abashed by this declaration, responding by coaxing Rowan’s buttoned shirt open and over his shoulders. Chest to bare chest, her next kiss was soft and drugging.

“You’re...not ugly, either,” she said at last.

“Not ugly?” He repeated with a laugh.

“You’re...” she trailed off as he kissed her neck.

“I’m...?”

“Gorgeous,” she said finally. “But I think you already knew that.”

“Maybe, but it hits different from you.”

Aelin seemed pleased by that, and she rewarded him by dipping her hand into his unbuckled pants again and fisting him.

“I was also right; you’re enormous.”

Grabbing her wrist, he pinned it to the wall and put his hand between her legs instead.

“And I bet you’re tight,” he said, drawing lazy circles with his thumb that had her back arching.

“Are we going to fit?” She teased, but he could hear the concern underneath that she couldn’t quite hide.

The idea that some douchebag had pushed into her before she was totally ready—it made Rowan’s skin prickle in irritation.

He caught her jaw.

“After I’m done playing with you, Aelin, you’re going to be so wet that you’ll feel like my cock was made to fit inside you.”

She moaned.

“If you’re half as good as sex as you are dirty talk, I think this might be the best night of my life.”

Rowan was counting on it. What he hadn’t counted on was the fact it was shaping up to be one of the best nights of his as well. And not just because of the sex, though Rowan couldn’t deal with that right now.

“I bet you taste good too,” he said, grinding against her and living for her answering moan. “Don’t you?”

“I’ve never had any complaints,” she said, and he tried to ignore the twinge of jealousy at the thought of another guy’s mouth on her.

Her pussy was his, at least for tonight. He intended to make sure she never forgot how it felt to have him between her thighs.

Kneeling at her feet, he peeled her thong down her lean legs. He let his eyes drag up slowly, taking his time admiring the muscles in her quads before his gaze settled between her legs.

She was already wet, her thighs glistening with arousal. He imagined what they would look like dripping with his come instead. The idea had masculine satisfaction thrumming through him, even knowing it was a fantasy he couldn’t indulge. He wouldn’t put her in a vulnerable position by not wearing a condom.  Pressing a mockingly chaste kiss on her low belly, he rose to his feet.

“Get on the bed,” he said, guiding her hips towards the waiting mattress.

“Get naked first,” she countered, tracing the band of his Adonis belt before tugging him towards her by the waistband of his Calvin Klein boxer briefs.

He didn’t stop her as she skated her hands down the back to squeeze his ass before pushing them off his hips.

His dick was already rock hard, and it pressed between them. She leaned up to kiss him again before sinking down to sit on the bed. The movement bought her eye-level with his erection, and gripping him in a fist, she put her mouth on him.

He swore as she laved his length, cock twitching as she traced a ridge of vein with her  tongue. Threading a gentle hand into her hair, he took a step back, coaxing her off the bed and onto her knees. When she looked up at him, blue eyes overcome with want, he had to fight the urge to come right then.

Despite her earlier declarations, Aelin sucked him off like both of their lives depended on it, and Rowan could only hang on and enjoy the ride as her tongue worked miracles on his shaft and her hands found every pleasure point he craved.

He swore again as she massaged his stones before kneading the sensitive swath of skin behind them. As her touch grew more deliberate, he debated telling her she could push inside him before deciding it wasn’t exactly fodder for a one-night stand.

However, when her fingers trailed back to brush the tight ring of muscle, he couldn’t fight a groan.

“Yes?” She asked, keeping her touch light.

“Go ahead,” he said, breathless.

He didn’t think he’d never been so close to losing it as he was the moment she used her own wetness to coat her fingers before carefully teasing two inside of him.

His tattooed hand tightened in her hair, but he forced himself to otherwise remain still, to let her set the pace.

“Fuck, Aelin.”

Crooking her fingers to hit that perfect internal spot, she put her mouth on him again. Between her fingers and her tongue, he only lasted ten more strokes before he came hard .

Holy shit.

Rowan was no stranger to anything they’d just done, but he was fairly sure that was the best blowjob he’d ever had.

“As good as your imagined?” Aelin said with a smirk.

“Better,” Rowan said. “Way better. My turn.”

Picking her up, he tossed her on the bed before grabbing her ankle and dragging her towards him so her legs hung off the edge.

Wasting no time, he broke her legs apart and put his mouth right where he knew she needed him, sucking hard. However, he didn’t stay there for long, ignoring her attempts to manuever his mouth into position as he teased her.

“Rowan,” she choked. “You’re killing me.”

In answer he swirled his tongue around her bundle of nerves before alighting elsewhere.

“Rowan,” Aelin said.

He sucked on her this time, loving how she rocked her hips up to fuck his face. Still, he didn’t linger long enough for her release to find her.

“I’m going to kill—“

He glanced up at her, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the crease of her hip as she watched him.

“Beg me, Aelin,” he told her. “Beg me and I’ll give you an orgasm to make you cry.”

He laced her once, and she bucked.

“I don’t beg,” she said, even as he felt her contract once against his tongue.

The idea was turning her on.

“You haven’t begged before,” he corrected. “It doesn’t mean you won’t for me.”

At this he slid a finger inside of her, finding the right spot and applying pressure.

“Oh god,” she breathed. “More.”

Rowan pulled the finger out in response.

Aelin paused, heaving slightly as she considered before breathing, “Please, Ro.”

“Please what?”

“Please, give me what I want. I’m...begging you.”

Rowan slid two fingers inside of her, grinning.

“Really, this is your begging? Pathetic.”

“Harder.”

“Harder?”

He increased his speed, knowing she was right on the edge of where she needed to be. Still, he didn’t cross that line.

“Fuck,” Aelin said, voice almost a whine. “Rowan, I’m right there—just make me come.”

“If I do, will you beg me for my cock next?”

“I will give you anything you want,” she said. “Just...” she exhaled again. “Please.”

He bowed his head between her legs again, pumping his fingers as he tongued the spot he knew would set her off.

Driven the brink by all his edging, her climax seemed to shudder through her, muscles in her stomach flexing as she contracted against his mouth. He was careful to keep his touch feather-light as the orgasm crested and ebbed, knowing her body was too sensitive to be properly played with yet.

“Oh god,” she breathed, body still trembling slightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever had an orgasm that strong before. What did you do to me, Whitethorn?”

He crawled up to meet her, hands sinking into the mattress on either side of her head before he kissed her.

“Showed you what you’ve been missing, apparently.”

She arched her hips up to meet his, the contact making him harden again.

“Aelin,” he breathed, using both palms to scrape her sweaty hair from her face.

“Kiss me,” she said softly, gaze so sincere he had to close his eyes to avoid being overcome.

He did as she asked, keeping his touch gentle in an effort to to convey what he couldn’t bear to voice out loud: that this was more than just meaningless sex.

“I want you inside of me,” she said.

He rotated his hips against hers, cock brushing against her in a way that made her cry out softly.

“I need to grab a condom,” he said into her ear. “Don’t move.”

“And what if I do?”

He bent to kiss her deeply.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

Rowan smiled, rising from the bed to grab a condom from his wallet before crossing to the window. He deftly unknotted the silk tie which had been used to hold back the curtains and holding it up for her to see.

Aelin expelled a noise of pleasure so finely edged it was almost a whine. Slowly, deliberately, she raised her arms above her head in invitation, eyes hooded as she watched him approach.

Sliding over her, he slipped the length of silk around her wrists before synching it to the  headboard.

Aelin tugged I’m experimentation.

“Too tight?”

“No,” she said.

Rowan gently collared her throat as he bent to kiss her.

“Good girl.”

Rowan drew a finger down Aelin’s torso, circling her tight nipples before tracing her navel and venturing between her legs.

“I’m going to have to make this count,” he said, sliding two fingers into her again even as he held up the condom. “I only have one of these.”

“I have some in my suitcase,” she said. “Lucky for you, I think they’re magnums. Dream big, and all that.”

He grinned, making her laugh.

“Never hurts to be prepared,” she said.

“No it most certainly doesn’t,” he agreed, putting his mouth on her again.

She bucked off the bed and he used his hands to keep her hips pinned as she twisted against her restraints.

“If only I had a spreader bar,” he told her. “I would really have you at my mercy.”

“I’m at your mercy now,” she said. “Take me.”

That, Rowan could not resist.

Quickening the pace of his fingers, he concentrated on her clit until she shattered again. Only when she’d settled back on to the bed, legs quaking slightly, did he tear open the wrapper of the condom, sheathing himself with a practiced hand.

“You’re probably going to be extra tight from the orgasms,” he told her. “So I’m going to go slow at first.”

She nodded, and he kissed her again before grabbing his shaft and sliding a few inches into her.

“Tight” had perhaps been an understatement. The pressure of her was mind-numbing, spine-tingling bliss. Still, he forced himself to pause and take in her expression.

Her brows were synched, breath ragged. He bent to kiss the tightened corners of her eyes before brushing his lips to hers.

“Talk to me, gorgeous,” he breathed. “How are you doing?”

“You’re—big,” she said, voice still tense. “I’m just trying to adjust.”

“Relax,” he coached, petting a hand down the tense muscles in her stomach. “Breathe, Aelin.”

At this she let out a shuddering exhale, even mewing a little as he reached down to play with her.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he said, working her with the pad of his thumb. “Let me in.”

With that the some of the tenseness in her body loosened, and she moaned. He pushed in farther, kissing her deeply until she was forced to take another calming exhale.

When he shifted her hips and pulled her the rest of the way onto his shaft, she melted. He couldn’t hold back his groan of pleasure as he sank in effortlessly to the hilt, his stones brushing her soft ass.

“Fuck,” she said. “Why does that feel so good?”

He rose onto his knees, tilting her hips up on the process. She groaned.

“Because I bet no one’s hit this spot with you before,” he said.

Rearing back slightly, he thrust into her with delicious intent.

She bit her lip.

“Yours is deep,” he said.

Her answering laugh was husky.

“Are you trying to suggest you’re the biggest dick I’ve ever had?”

He smirked, unable to deny the smug masculine satisfaction that slithered through him at the thought.

“You said it, not me.”

He pulled back and thrust into her a second time. At this she squirmed a little, eyes firmly shut again.

“Yes, Aelin?” He said, repeating the gesture a third time.

She wiggled, trying to get more friction.

“Yes,” she said. “Oh god, yes.”

With that he increased his pace, loving the obscene sound their bodies made as they came together. Christ, had it ever felt this good?

He rode her hard but tried to maintain a pace that wouldn’t cause her an unpleasant amount of friction. From her moans, he was doing a better than alright job.

Rowan drank her in as she writhed beneath him, her body covered in a glistening sheen of sweat, her small breasts bouncing with the force of his thrusts.

When he reached a hand between her legs to play with her again, she swore, tightening around him.

“I’m so close.”

“Say my name," he said, left hand wrapping around the headboard for better leverage as he drove into her with increased force. “I want to hear you say my name when you come, Aelin.”

She surged forward, tongue tangled with his in a desperate kiss.

"Ro," she breathed. “Rowan.”

Rowan had to fend off a strangled moan at the reverence in her voice.

When he'd made the demand, he'd imagined her screaming it the way other women had, like it was a triumph that needed to be heralded. But hearing it whispered, as if it were a secret meant only for him, had been so much more powerful.

He instantly knew why: because this was so much more than mindless sex.

He felt the exact moment she came apart around him, loving the pressure as she squeezed him in a vice. Deftly he untied her bound hands, allowing her to wrap her arms around his neck as he kissed her.

He couldn’t hold back the pleasured groan which escaped as he found his own climax, hips nestled to hers as he drove in deep a final time.

God, what he wouldn’t give to come inside this girl for real. It was a selfish thought, but one Ro couldn’t immediately shake. He didn’t often think about babies of his own, but something about Aelin Galathynius made him want to have a million.

He shook his head slightly, desperate to rid himself of the notion of having children with a woman he’d just met. He kissed her instead, using the feeling of her lips against him to ground him more fully into reality.

When he felt he’d mastered himself, he pulled back to meet Aelin’s eye, mildly horrified to find that hers were glassy. Despite his earlier declaration about wanting to have her in tears, actually seeing them in her eyes had his heart dropping out of his chest.

“Oh god, you’re crying,” he blurted, quickly pulling out of her and touching her cheek. “Aelin, why are you crying?”

At this she snorted, the sound halfway between a laugh and a sob.

“Because that so intense I almost don’t know what to do with myself,” she admitted. “And when I get overwhelmed I always end up crying.”

He frowned, brushing her petal-soft cheek again.

“Good overwhelmed or bad?”

“Good,” she said. “Definitely good. That was just so—“ she blew out a shaky inhale, another tear slipping from the corner of her eye. “I came so hard I think my brain just stalled for a second.”

He couldn’t help but grin, even as he gently brushed the moisture from her cheek.

“I don’t think I’ve ever broken someone’s brain before,” he said. “Should I take that as a compliment?”

She laughed, the sound easier this time.

“Don’t be annoying,” she said. “You know how good you are.”

“What can I say? You inspire greatness in me, Galathynius.”

He bent to gently kiss her, his finger drawing a an ever-tightening circle around one erect nipple. Her back arched slightly at his featherlight touch, goosebumps breaking out across her small breasts.

“You are so gorgeously responsive,” he told her, bending to tug the opposite nipple with his teeth. “It’s like your whole body is a hot spot. It makes it impossible to stop touching you. I could seriously play with you all night.”

“It’s not usually like this,” Aelin admitted after a beat, threading her hand into his hair. When she spoke again, her tone was softer, more candid. “Most the time I’m too in my head, and it makes it hard to get turned on enough to let go.”

“What made tonight different?” Rowan asked, brushing the hair out her face.

He was fairly sure he already knew, but he needed to hear her say it, to take ownership of the feeling.

“I feel safe with you,” she said. “I don’t know why—you’re basically still a stranger—but I do.”

Rowan smiled, kissing her more deeply this time.

“I told you that you’d let go for me,” he breathed against her lips. “How did it feel, gorgeous?”

“Incredible,” she said, shifting her hips in search of friction as he settled more fully on top of her again. “I didn’t want it to end.”

Deftly, Rowan peeled off the condom and threw it into the trash.

“Who said it had to?” He asked grabbing her hips and rotating so he was on his back, Aelin nestled in his lap. “That was just round one.”

In response, She reached for his shaft to begin getting him hard, but he caught her wrist instead.

“It’s a marathon, Galathynius, not sprint,” he said, flipping her hand in his so he could kiss her palm. “And your body’s not ready for me to be inside you again yet.”

Aelin seemed a bit flustered at that, which left Rowan feeling torn. On the one hand, he hating thinking he’d embarrassed her or made her uncomfortable. On the other, the idea that he has the ability to make swaggering, sensuous Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius bashful filled him with deep-seated satisfaction.

Seeming to read the intention in his gaze, she bent to kiss him, whispering, “you don’t have to.”

He pushed her back gently so he could look into her face.

“Don’t have to what?”

“Go down on me again. I know most guys don’t like to do it again once they’ve—“

“That’s amateur hour,” Rowan said, tone sharper than he’d meant it to be. “Whichever pin-headed prick told you that is a loser.”

She laughed, relaxing a little. At seeing this, Rowan settled more fully on his back, hands braced on her hips.

“Come here,” he said, voice rough with desire.

He was rewarded with a pretty blush.

“I’ve never...done it like that,” she admitted.

He smirked.

“Then I’m about to give you an important lesson in pleasure. Come here.”

Rising onto her knees, Aelin rose over Rowan until she was mere inches from his face.

“I feel like I’m going to suffocate you!” She said with a sheepish laugh.

“Then I’ll die the luckiest man on earth,” he said, gripping her ass. “Hold onto the headboard.”

She did, and he lifted his head just enough that the tip of his tongue brushed the most sensitive part of her.

Her whole body tightened in pleasure.

“Do that again,” she said, sounding more her confident self now.

“No,” he told her. “This position is about you being in control.  I don’t give you pleasure; you take it.”

When she still didn’t move, he added, “this should be no problem for an imperious little thing like you.”

He knew goading her would do the trick, and after a moment she relaxed her hips, body sinking down to meet his waiting mouth. He couldn’t stifle a groan as she rocked her hips against him in experimentation. Seeing Aelin in is position, vulnerable but in control, was hotter than her could have possibly imagined.

Rowan flicked his tongue against her and she swore.

“That feels good,” she breathed, rocking forward against his mouth again. “Really good.”

His hands on the back of her thighs, he urged her hips forward, grazing her with his teeth before sucking hard.

This proved to be her unleashing.

Using the headboard for leverage, she began swishing her lips in a rhythmic motion, panting softly through her teeth as she worked herself up to climax.

He kneaded the soft flesh of her backside while she rocked against him, trying not to imagine what it would be like to slide his cock into her tight little ass. He had no idea if she was into that sort of thing nor any desire to pressure her into finding out, but the way she rocked back into his hands—as if urging them to explore—was enough to make him curious.

Hands on her waist, he tilted her pelvis towards him slightly, waiting to see how she’d react. In response she scooted higher on his body, her knees practically touching to the headboard. In this new position, there was no part of her he couldn’t access, and when she leaned forward, the invitation was clear.

Using his hands to open her legs more fully for him, he brushed his mouth against an intimate spot that—judging by her deep moan—no one had even touched before. When he repeated the gesture and she didn’t tense or pull away, he split legs even wider and circled the tight ring of muscle at the back with his tongue.

“Fuck,” she said, voice devolving into a string of slurred Spanish. “Rowan.”

Rowan worked her in broader strokes, his free hand coming up to play with her clit. When he slipped a finger inside of her he could tell she was getting close. Not wanting to claim the victory of her orgasm with only his fingers, he pulled her hips down so his tongue could replace his hand.

Far bolder now that she’d been when they’d started, Aelin followed his lead. Her fingers twined in his hair as she rocked against him hard, and Rowan was happy enough to sit back and watch as she took her pleasure like he’d instructed.

Between the rimjob and the edging, Aelin’s orgasm—when it hit—seemed to last a blissful eternity. She was trembling slightly as she collapsed beside him, eyes still closed.

“That was the hottest thing I think I’ve ever seen,” he said.

He gently cupped between her legs, careful not to apply too much pressure when she was still so sensitive.

“You’re telling me that?” she said with a laugh. “I’ve done it that to other people, obviously, but I’ve never let anyone—“ she broke off with another laugh. “Apparently I’ve been missing out.”

Rowan smirked, if only to hide the twinging realization that after tonight, it would someone else making her feel good, not him.

“I hope I didn’t set an impossible standard,” he said dryly.

“Maybe not yet,” she said, eyes blazing with want. “But you’re well in your way, and the night is still young.”

She let her azure gaze snake down his body with exaggerated slowness. By the time it reached his cock, he was granite-hard.

“Where are the rest of the condoms?” he asked.

If he wasn’t inside of her in the next minute, he might actually lose his mind.

“Bathroom,” she said, rising to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

Rowan didn’t have time for that. He rose from the bed to follow her into the lavish en-suite. Normally he might of gawked a little at the opulence—the marble countertops, the sunken tub—but his entire focus was on Aelin. The best he could do was shift the lens to the things in her periphery. Everything else was a blur.

She was just straightening—foil packet in hand—as he entered, and he didn’t even give her a chance speak before her grabbed her around the waist, spinning her so his chest was pressed into her back.

Taking the condom, he ripped open the package and slid it on with one hand while his other moved between her legs to ensure she was ready for him.

“How do you feel?” He asked. “Do you need me to—“

“Whitethorn, if I was any wetter I’d be Nile. Get inside me already.”

It was all the permission Rowan needed. Hand on her back, he coaxed her to bend, using his legs to push hers wider as he did. She yelped softly as her bare breasts made contact with the cold marble, and he ran a hand over the curve of her hip to settle her before sliding to the hilt in single stroke.

It felt better, even, than it had the first time. She clenched around the intrusion of him even as she moaned, and he only managed to wait a beat before grabbing her hips and setting a blistering pace.

He glanced in the mirror and their gazes caught in the reflection, her desire molten.

Wanting more, he coaxed her up until her torso lifted from the counter.

Yes, he thought with greedy satisfaction. This.

This was what he wanted. Her firm tits bouncing with each hard thrust, her hips rocking back and forth, and her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

Gently collaring her throat with his hand, he whispered in her ear.

“Touch yourself for me.”

She did, canting her hips forward for increased friction as she moaned.

As she increased the speed with her hand, Rowan increased his, fucking her hard through her orgasm as she tightened around him.

She collapsed against the counter as he pulled her hips flush to his for one final thrust before coming undone.

She wobbled when he stepped back to pull off the condom, and he deftly caught her around the waist before she melted to the floor like a newborn fawn.

“Easy,” he said, coaxing her into his arms.

She laid her head on his shoulder.

“I think your dick has mystical powers,” she said. “Because that was insane.”

Rowan chuckled, carrying her to the bed and laying her down.

“There’s a Harry Potter joke in there somewhere,” he said, brushing some hair off her sweaty cheek as her eyelids drooped. “I’m just too lazy to find it.”

“Harry Potter references,” she said, already half-asleep. “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?”

She was out before he could even respond, but he did anyway, lips to her temple as he whispered, “I wish I could.”

XX

Ro woke up at sunrise the next morning, Aelin still fast asleep beside him. Not quite in his arms, but still close enough that he could feel her warmth. Christ, she smelled incredible. Like lemon and coconut.

He propped his head on a chin, admiring the way the dawn light set her skin and hair to glowing. She looked like a fallen star.

Rowan’s heart ached a bit as he studied her, trying to memorize every detail, knowing that their time together was quickly running out. Originally, he’d only planned to stay the night, promising himself that as soon as the dark was gone, he would be, too.

In the light of day, he knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. Perhaps it was only asking for more trouble, but Rowan wanted to stay at least for the morning.

He could bring her coffee from that shop Cash loved; if Ro remembered correctly, it wasn’t far from here. He could go get it while she was still sleeping, and make her breakfast when she woke up.

He wouldn’t stay all day, he promised himself, just long enough that she knew she wasn’t some meaningless screw he’d fucked and then chucked. Surely she deserved that much, at least.

Unable to resist, he ran a hand down the silky mane of her hair, slightly tangled from their numerous romps the night before, before rising from the bed as quietly and creeping towards the bedroom door. He found his boxers briefs and shorts easily enough. He just needed to find his—

“Leaving so soon?”

He turned to find Aelin sitting up in the bed, that signature smirk painted on her pouty mouth. She hadn’t bothered to pull up the sheet to cover herself, and her breasts were fully visible, the studs in them winking in the crepuscular light pouring in from the window.

“Only to get some coffee,” he said, loving the way the tension which had limned her muscles disappeared. She’d been displeased with the idea of him leaving, even if she hadn’t wanted to show it.

Her next smile was far easier.

“I have coffee here,” she said.

“Not like this you don’t,” he said with a grin. “There is no coffee on earth better than the beans for the Kona Mountains.”

Her expression grew feline.

“You dare say such things to a Cuban?” She said. “If Galen were here, he’d have you tarred and feathered.”

Rowan recalled the coffee he’d had on a trip to Havana during the short period travel when from the US to Cuba had been permitted. She wasn’t wrong; it had been fucking delicious. Still, he wasn’t going to give up that easy.

“That’s more like espresso; not the same as having a full mug with you while you watch the sun rise.”

“The sun’s already risen,” Aelin said with a smile. “And coffee should be strong and decadent, and that’s what a cortadito is. You can keep your vat of hot bean water; a little is all you need. Just enough to whet the appetite.”

Rowan couldn’t help but grin.

“Awfully set in your ways for a person who’s so young.”

“I’m only five years younger than you,” Aelin pointed out. “And I didn’t hear any complaints from you last night.”

“That’s because I have none,” Rowan admitted. “You’re—“

He broke off, not wanting to embarass himself with verbose declarations now that they were both stone sober.

“I’m—“ Aelin prompted, standing from the bed. She was still naked as they day she was born, and it was an effort not to admire her.

“You know what you are,” Rowan said.

“I do,” Aelin agreed, slinking forward and draping her arms over Rowan’s shoulders. “But it hits different coming from you.”

It was the same thing he’d told her the night before, and he decided to indulge her the way she had him.

“You’re perfect,” he said, his hand slipping around her bare waist to tug her into him.

He kissed her softly, and he could feel her answering smile against his lips.

“Yes, I am,” she said, and he couldn’t help it.

He laughed, lifting her off her feet and heading towards the bed with her still in his arms. When he was close enough he tossed her onto the wrinkled nest of sheets and pillows before crawling over her.

“What am I going to do with you, Galathynius?”

She laughed as he playfully nuzzled her neck.

“Feed me? I’m starving after your thorough ravishing last night.”

“I think I can do that,” he said, bending to kiss her.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to get up right away. Instead he rolled onto his side so he was facing her, trying not to preen as she traced a whorl of his tattoo.

“We never talked about these last night,” she said, her featherlight touch making goosebumps appear on his skin.   “They’re...Hawaiian?”

“Māori,” Rowan said. “I grew up on Maui, but my family is originally from farming town near Auckland.”

Aelin’s eyes glittered with interest.

“Have you even been there?”

“To New Zealand?” Rowan shrugged. “We used to go every few years while my grandparents were still alive. At the time it seemed boring. Now I’m glad we got the opportunity.”

Aelin nodded, still tracing his tattoos. She’d moved from his shoulder to his chest, fingers trailing closer and closer to his heart. To—

“And this one?” Aelin said. “It doesn’t look Māori.”

Rowan’s throat ached a bit as she ran the tips of her fingers over the letters at the very center of the massive design, directly above his heart.

Λυρία

“It’s Greek,” he explained.

She glanced up at him, gaze full of emotion as she said quietly, “It looks like a name.”

He nodded, throat growing tight.

“Lyria.”

Aelin didn’t push for clarification, but after a beat Rowan found himself speaking anyway.

“She’s my—she was my—“

When he broke off, Aelin only nodded.

“What happened?”

“Non-Hodgkins lymphoma. It was stage four by the time they caught it. She was gone within six months of her diagnosis.”

Aelin reached up to gently cup Rowan’s cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Rowan.”

He’d had people apologize to him a thousand times for Lyria’s untimely death, but something in Aelin’s tone was different. It was sympathetic but also...understanding, somehow.

“Have you ever lost someone you thought would be in your life forever?”

Aelin considered this before flipping her wrist and extending  it. There, inked in neat script, were three small letters Rowan hadn’t noticed before.

S-a-m

“We were high school sweethearts and went to UT together,” she explained. “My sophomore year we lived in an apartment together in West Campus, but we’d started to talk about moving after there had been a series of unsolved rapes in the neighborhood. We were on the first floor and Sam was worried about me being there when he was on the road for baseball season. The night I finally agreed we could start looking for another place, there was a break-in.”

She paused, brows furrowed as she continued to study the tattoo.

“The guy had a gun, and told Sam that if he cooperated it would be over quickly and neither of us would get hurt. But Sam refused, and he fought the guy off while I called the cops. He got shot while they were struggling with the gun, and by the time the paramedics got there it was too late.”

“Aelin, I...” Rowan paused, not wanting to saying the wrong thing. “That must have been awful. I’m so sorry.”

Aelin nodded, rubbing the tattoo with her thumb.

“Me too,” she said. “I miss him a lot.”

That, Rowan certainly understood. There wasn’t a day that went by that Rowan didn’t miss Lyria.

“Did they ever catch the perp?”

“Yeah, the guy’s gloves came off in the struggle and he ended up leaving prints. Cairn Macgory. Turned out he was a law student, top honors, no criminal record. The only reason they had his fingerprints was because of his application to take the bar. He was going to be a family law attorney. He already had a job lined up after school.”

“I hope he rots in hell,” Rowan said honestly, hating the haunted look that had crept into Aelin’s eyes.

“He’s honestly just lucky the cops got to him first,” she said. “My dad was ready to have him black-bagged back to Cuba and cut into little pieces.”

“I’m sort of sorry he didn’t,” Rowan admitted, and this—unexpectedly—made Aelin laugh.

“Aren’t you a cop? I thought you’d be all gung-ho for law and order.”

“Even cops can want revenge.”

Some of Aelin’s mirth faded at this, and she looked up to study him. It was an odd feeling to be so exposed, but Rowan found he didn’t mind it coming from Aelin. After a moment she relented, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder.

“Sorry, that was sort of heavy for a one-night stand.”

Rowan strung an arm around her sturdy shoulders as he ignored the twinge in his gut.

A one-night stand.

He’d never stayed the morning with his previous one-night stands, and he’d certainly never told any of them about Lyria, so how could that be what this was?

Before he could damn the consequences and ask Aelin about it, she slipped from his embrace, grinning at him over a shoulder.

“Can I make you a cortadito, or have I scared you off?”

He grabbed her hand to pull her back.

“I’ll have coffee,” he told her rising onto his knees and she sank back onto the bed half-way. “And after that I’ll take you to breakfast.”

“You’re friends won’t be missing you?

Rowan traced her hipbones with this thumbs, everything he’d done to her the previous evening flooding back.

“They’re adults,” he said breezily, leaning forward to kiss the soft skin between her breasts. “They’ll be fine.”

Aelin drove a hand into his hair, her grip light and playful.

“You phones been blowing up for 20 minutes,” she pointed out.

“That’s just Cash being nosy.”

“He’s not dating anyone?”

“Not that I know of,” Rowan admitted setting back onto the bed and tugging her casually into his lap. “But Cash has always been full of secrets; it’s part of his charm.”

“What about the other two?” She asked. “The gorgeous one and the grouch.”

“Fenrys is more a serial dater,” Rowan said. “Mostly because his taste in men is garbage. He always falls for the haole fuckboys  then cries when they turn out to be assholes.”

“Haole?” Aelin said.

“Non-Polynesians, technically,” Rowan explained. “But most of the time Hawaiians just use it to mean—“

“Gringos,” Aelin said, grinning. “They do love to make trouble, don’t they?”

Rowan had to laugh at this.

“Fen would certainly say so.”

Aelin nodded, laughing as well.

“So that just leaves—”

“Lorcan,” Rowan said. “His bark is worse than his bite.”

“Aedion said he played him in Volleyfest last year in Miami. Why didn’t y’all compete in the men’s division together?”

Rowan rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s...complicated.”

“I assume this has to do with your ex?”

“She invited me to play in with her. Lor wasn’t even supposed to be here this weekend. He decided to surprise me last minute.”

“So there is a gooey center underneath the scowl!” Aelin said.

“To be honest, I think Lor is probably the most sensitive and caring of all four of us. He just—isn’t good at emoting. He’s also a fastidious believer in ‘boys night’, though I think that’s just because he’s not good at chatting women up.”

“Bet he wasn’t too thrilled with me last night then, huh?”

“He’ll get over it. And he still pulls like crazy, even with his terrible flirting. Usually women take one look at him and decide they don’t even care if he can talk at all.”

Aelin laughed.

“I figured as much,” she said, rising from the bed again. “I have a lot of follow-up questions, but I need a shower before we go. Care to join me?”

She was already halfway to the open bathroom door when Rowan found his feet again, and wasting no time, he quickly swept her up in his arms and carried her the rest of the way.

After they spent forty-fives minutes fooling around in the shower and another hour having sex against nearly every available surface in the suite, breakfast—inevitably—turned to lunch.

After lunch, they’d joined a pick-up “king of the beach” doubles tournament some of the previous day’s competitors had set up. They’d made such a good team that it was nearly evening by the time they lost a match and were finally bumped off the champion court.

Starving from the exertion, they’d gone back to the suite to shower before leaving again to go to dinner. Dinner had turned into cocktails on the beach, which had turned into beers  drinks at Bar 35 then tequila shots at Smith & Kings. The evening that followed was a blur of pleasure, as was the following morning, which they spend in bed together, naked and sweaty.

At every turn Rowan told himself he needed to leave, need to start distancing himself from Aelin so he could start trying to forget her. However, he’d known from the start that it had been a fools errand.

There was no forgetting a girl like Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius. Her vivacity, her humor, her raw sexual charisma—Rowan had never met anyone like her, and he doubted he ever would again.

So how the fuck was he supposed to just let her go? It was a thought that plagued him all the way to the airport on the afternoon Aelin was due to fly back to the mainland. He’d agreed to accompany her for a last drink before her flight departed, wanting to wring every last second he could out of the weekend.

It was—he knew—only delaying the inevitable by continually putting off their goodbyes, but Ro couldn’t help it. Aelin was like the sun—vibrant and essential—and Rowan had found himself in her orbit.

Harsh realities aside, it was a painfully lovely place to be.

Ro definitely felt a shift in the vibe as he paid their tab and they headed towards the security gate. Things had gone from easy and playful to quiet and subdued, Aelin’s usual flair dimming as she continually adjusted the bag on her shoulder.

Rowan searched and searched for the words he would say to her when they were finally forced to part. They’d never even exchanged numbers; perhaps he could ask for hers and offer to call her if he was ever in Austin?

It seems so stilted and formal after everything they’d shared this weekend. He’d been inside of her, for Christ’s sake. In fact, they’d had so much sex that they’d had to buy more condoms. And she’d fallen asleep in his arms last night, and stayed there until they’d woken up this morning. That was worth more than some vague promise to “look her up” if he even came to Texas.

Still, Ro was burning daylight and he knew it. The security gate was visible now, and though they’d both seemed to slow their pace in an effort to delay the inevitable, it was approaching just the same. Finally they reached the short queue where agents were checking boarding passes and travelers were taking off their shoes and belts.

Aelin was busy on her phone as they slowed to a stop, almost as if she were avoiding looking at him.

“My cousins are already at the gate,” she said by way of explanation. “They said boarding is starting in twenty minutes.”

Rowan glanced at the security line then his watch.

“You’ve got time; things seem to be moving pretty fast.”

Aelin looked over at the line as well. Finally she dragged her azure eyes back to him, the sheer force of her gaze enough to stun him stupid. She paused, as if waiting for him to speak. He had nothing, though.

“Well,” she said finally, a small, tense smile playing around her lips.  “I would offer to shake your hand and say ‘it was nice to meet you’, but given the fact we’ve seen each other naked, I think I’ll spare us both the indignity.”

Rowan forced a laugh, even as a pit began forming in his stomach. Shit, should he give her a hug, offer to give her—

“Goodbye, Rowan,” she said, leaning up to brush a kiss just to the right of his mouth. “It’s been—“ she clearly her throat, glancing away for a second. “I had an amazing weekend.”

“Congratulations again,” he found himself saying. “For making the AVP tour. You deserve it.”

Jesus Fucking Christ, was that really the best he could do? Maybe Fen was right, and he was destined to die alone.

Aelin’s grin didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Like I said, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Happy to help,” he forced out. “Have a safe flight, Aelin.”

She smiled, the solemnity in her eyes now limning her face as well.

“I put my number in your phone,” she said, beginning to walk backwards towards the TSA podium. “Call me if you’re ever in Austin.”

With that she turned, and Rowan’s heart was suddenly in his throat, beating two hundred times a minute.

His mind whirred with all the reasons he had to simply let her leave—she still in college, they lived thousands of miles apart, he was a cop in Vice Squad and she was a fucking billionaire—a perceived conflict of interest even if it wasn’t a real one. There was no way it could ever work. It was hopeless, fraught with problems, doomed to fail—

He could hear his pulse pounding in his ears as he continued to spiral, thoughts growing so jumbled that he could hardly make sense of them anymore. Then a single, cogent thread emerged through the cacaphony and chaos, spooling him back to sanity.

A voice.

“Anóitos,” it teased, the tone soft and airy. “What are you doing? Don’t just stand there!”

Fuck , he missed that voice.

It had been three years since he’d lost Lyria. Three years since he’d heard her laugh, or sing, or speak Greek.

Three long, terrible years since he’d heard her speak at all.

But even after all this time, her voice was crystal clear in his head. He often felt it was her absence—more than her memory—that he’d been left with when she’d died. In that moment, though, it almost felt as if Lyria were standing beside him.

“Go, Ro. I’ll be here.”

Rowan felt a warmth tingle through him, and as he blinked back to reality, Lyria’s voice seemed to fade. But where he’d been buzzing with doubt a moment before, Rowan felt himself suddenly brimming with clarity.

If there was anything he’d learned from Lyria’s sickness, it was that life was simply too short to waste.

Lyria had died with her would-be engagement ring still in tucked away in Ro’s dresser drawer. He hated himself for the cowardice, but when she got sick he couldn’t bring herself to ask her to marry him. He’d wanted to believe that if he put off giving her the ring it might somehow serve as a talisman to keep her from leaving him. It hadn’t though, and instead she’d died never getting to be his wife.

It was a mistake he couldn’t afford to make a second time. It was improbable that he and Aelin would get married, but he felt he owed them both the opportunity to find out.

His mind was made up; fuck, he was really doing this.

“Aelin!”

She turned, watching with bemusement as he jogged toward her.

“What—“ she began, but he cut her off.

“I don’t want this to be over,” he blurted.

Aelin sagged a bit, a genuine smile splitting her face.

“Oh thank God,” she said.

Setting down her bag, she started towards him and they met halfway. Rowan cradled her face in his hands and he bent to kiss her. She fisted the fabric of his T-shirt at the hips as the kiss intensified.

“So what does this mean?” Aelin said, slightly breathless as she pulled away. “I’ve never done this before.”

Rare for her to admit she wasn’t perfect at something.

“We’ll have to figure it out as we go,” Rowan said. “My detective’s exam is in two weeks, and then I get a week off. I can come to Austin then?”

She nodded.

“Are we...” Aelin paused, biting her lip. “I mean, do you want to be...”

“Be what?”

“Exclusive?”

“Yes!”

It was out before he could stop it, so he quickly amended, “but only if you—“

“Yes,” she said, smile easier now. “I want that.”

“And are we...using labels?”

She smirked.

“Three days in and you’re already trying to wife me up?”

Now it was Rowan’s turn to flush.

“Okay, no labels—“

“I didn’t say that,” Aelin said quickly. “I just don’t want to jinx a good thing by moving too fast. What if you get back to LA and realize you accidentally got a girlfriend you don’t want? You did drink a lot of tequila this weekend.”

“Never,” he said gently, taking her cheeks in his hands. “Doubt that I want you, Aelin Ashryvver-Galathynius. And I’m fine to wait, if that’s what you want.”

“But...”

He felt his lips tugging again.

“But it’s doesn’t feel soon, not to me.”

“So....labels?” she said.

“Labels,” he agreed.

She grinned, kissing him again.

“In that case, your girlfriend has to go or she’s going to miss her flight and turn into your live-in girlfriend.”

“Honestly, your boyfriend wouldn’t mind.”

Aelin scrunched her nose, even as she laughed a bit.

“We agree the third person thing is creepy, right?”

“Yes, thank you God,” Rowan said, laughing with her.

“Dame un beso,” Aelin said, grabbing the collar of his shirt in an effort to tug his lips closer to hers. “Or I really am going to miss this flight.”

Knowing his time was short, Rowan made the kiss count, teasing Aelin with his lips and tongue until she was slightly breathless.

“See you in three weeks,” he said, pulling away.

He set the bag Aelin had abandoned on her shoulder and kissed her quickly again.

“And text me when you get on the plane so I know you’ve made it.”

She grinned, kissing him a final time before jogging off towards security once again.

“Oh and just fair warning,” she said, spinning on a heel to grin at him as she joined the short line. “My cousins are not going to like this. Might want to sleep with one eye open for a while.”

“You tell me this now?”

“Te veo pronto, querido,” she said in response, kissing her hand in farewell before showing the TSA agent her boarding pass and disappearing into the concourse.

He waited several minutes before pulling out his phone to text her. As he did, his phone chirped to signal an incoming text.

Did I mention I also stole your number and put it in my phone? 😈 💋

Troublemaker, he wrote back. Did you make it?

Yes. Wish you were here to join the Mile High Club with me.

Before Rowan could even formulate a response to that, his phone chimed again, this time from a number he didn’t know.

This is Aedion Ashryvver, it said. Treat her right or I’ll break both your kneecaps.

His phone went off a third time, the new text also from an unknown number.

Not just your kneecaps, either.

Galen Ashryvver, if Ro had to guess.

Ignoring Aelin’s cousins, he replied to her instead, saying simply, Seems like good news travels fast

The grey ellipsis pulsed for a moment as Aelin typed.

Aedion said it was their price for letting us stay in the suite alone all weekend. Taking off now. Talk to you soon ✌️ ✈️

Then it was worth it, Rowan sent back. Have a safe flight. Call me when you get stateside.

Aelin sent back a heart, and Rowan had to fight down an annoyingly girlish fluttering in his stomach as he dialed a new number and put the phone to his ear.

It only rang twice before the line clicked.

“He lives!” Cash said in greeting. “Welcome back from the island  of puss—“

“Very funny,” Rowan interjected. “Where are you?”

“Hideaway. Where are you, honeymoon chapel in Vegas?”

Rowan rolled his eyes.

“Ha-ha.”

Cash scoffed.

“Ha-ha, that’s all I get? You’ve been gone for two days, brother! I want details.”

“I’ll tell you everything when I get there.”

“Just give me a quick teaser: do you have a girlfriend now?”

Rowan growled, making Cash laugh.

“I told you!” He said to someone on his end, presumably Lor or Fen.

“You’re seriously dating her?” Lor demanded a second later. “Like full-blown ‘exclusively-fucking, using-labels’ dating her?”

“Full-blown.”

“I KNEW IT!” Cash called, just as Lor growled, “fuck me, man.”

“You owe me a drink,” Lorcan told Rowan. “I just lost 200 bucks because of you.”

“I’ll buy you a shot of house tequila,” Rowan said, unable to keep in a smile. “Final offer.”

“Hurry up,” was Lorcan’s only response. “Before Kahukore explodes from the anticipation.”

“Getting my popcorn as we speak!” Cash called from the background, and with that Rowan hung up.

A short Uber ride later, Rowan strolled into the Hideaway Inn, his friends wolf-whistling as he approached.

Cash was on his feet first, grabbing Rowan by the shoulders an inspecting him head-to-toe.

“What are you doing?” Rowan said, playfully pushing out of Cash’s grip.

“Just taking you in,” Cash said with a disarming smile. “It feels like it’s been an age since we last saw you!”

Rowan rolled his eyes, and Fen added, “Pretty dark circles you’ve got there, lover boy. Galathynius keep you up all night?”

“I am not answering that,” Rowan said. “Or any questions about what she’s like in bed.”

“Why?” Cash cooed. “Because she’s your girlfriend?”

“You’re both clowns,” Rowan said.

“You’re the one dating a teenager,” Lor said. “So who’s the clown now?”

“She’s 21,” Rowan said. “And green isn’t a good color on your, Salvaterre, so just relax.”

Lorcan smirked.

“Jealous? Of you dating a Amazonian she-devil? I don’t think so.”

“That is exactly what a jealous person would say,” Fen pointed out. “Chin up, Lor, your time will come.”

Lorcan only snarled in response.

“What do we think Salvaterre’s  eventual lady love going to be like?” Cash chimed in. “Betting line’s officially open, gents.”

“Tiny,” Rowan and Fen both said at the same time.

“Fifty bucks says he ends up marrying a girl under 5’4,” Fen added.

“Grow up,” Lor said with an eye roll, though Ro had known him long enough to tell he wasn’t actually bothered by the conversation.

“Make me,” Fen said.

Lor jerked his head the pool table in the back corner.

“I beat you, you owe me fifty bucks and you shut your cakehole.”

“And if I win?” Fen said.

“You won’t, so it doesn’t matter. Let’s do this.”

Lor shot Rowan a quick, conspiratorial nod, and Ro realized Lor had done it on purpose, to give Rowan and Cash a chance to talk.

It was one of the things that Ro loved about Lorcan Salvaterre. He was perceptive in seeing what people needed, and not jealous or petty. Somehow, he’d seemed to sense Rowan’s need to talk to Cash alone, even if Ro himself hadn’t realized it until just now.

He gave Lor a grateful smile, and Lor turned to clap Fen on the back, leading him towards the billiards table in the back.

“So,” Cash said, flagging the bartender down and ordered two beers and two shots of whiskey. “Tell me everything.”

He clicked his glass to Rowan’s in salute and they both tipped the shots back. Rowan winced a bit at the taste before running a hand through his hair, trying to collect his thoughts.

He ran Cash quickly through the weekend’s events, skipping over the more X-rated content and ending with his and Aelin’s agreement at the airport.

“Damn,” Cash said when Rowan had finished. “Are you sure this girl isn’t a witch? Because she has you under a spell.”

Rowan laughed.

“She’s—” he began, breaking off with a sheepish laugh. “I really like her, man.”

“You’re smitten,” Cash said with a grin. “Look at you!”

Rowan opened his mouth to deny it before shrugging.

“Being with her feels different somehow. It isn’t just that she’s gorgeous or funny or smart, even though she’s all of those things. It’s more than that.”

Cash considered this, but he didn’t tease the way Ro feared he might. Instead he simply asked, “what of you mean?”

Rowan blew out a breath.

“There’s just something about her that’s almost... familiar . Like I’ve been looking for her my whole life, even without knowing it. I know that sounds crazy, but...”

Rowan shrugged again, tracing the rim of his glass.

“She’s just special.”

Cash’s smiled, a softer thing than his fiendish grin from before.

“I’ve never seen you like this, brother.” He paused, his expression growing more reverent as he added in a softer voice, “Not in a long time, at least.”

They were quiet a moment as they both silently recalled the memories that hung unspoken between them. Cash had been the first important person in his life that Rowan had introduced Lyria to, and over the years, Cash was the one who’d come to know Lyria the best; he’d been her friend in his own right.

He couldn’t see it at the time, but when Ro finally emerged from his own grief over Lyria’s death, it was realize that Cash had been grieving as well; he’d simply put his aside to focus on helping Rowan heal instead. 

It was hard to describe what that sacrifice had meant to Ro; the nice thing about a friendship as deep as theirs was that Rowan didn’t have to explain his gratitude for Cash to understand it. It was implicit in every conversation they ever had about Lyria, even this one.

“You want to know the weirdest part?” Rowan said finally. “When I was watching Aelin walk away, it felt like, I don’t know, like Lyria was there with me. Like she was telling me ‘go get her’.”

Cash smiled, his expression one of admiration tinged in sadness.

“She wanted you to be happy, Ro.”

Rowan nodded, throat tight as he looked into his glass.

“I still miss her, every day. Part of me worries that if things with Aelin ever got serious, I might start missing her less.”

Cash’s answering shrug was sympathetic.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t want to forget her,” Rowan said, marveling that he could admit that fear out loud.

“You won’t,” Cash assured him. “Ever. But you’re allowed to move on, brother; that’s what she wanted for you.”

There was something in his tone, an assurity and a promise, that had Rowan’s mouth going dry. He glanced up to meet Cash’s gaze.

“She told you that?”

Cash nodded once.

“The last time I saw her. She made me promise to look out for you, and to make sure you ended up with the right girl. And honestly?” He said, a smile beginning to grow on his face. “I think you might have just met her. I can’t let you mess that up by overthinking things, for Lyria’s sake as much for your and Aelin’s.”

Rowan felt his lips tugging up.

“You’re going to like her,” he said, and Cash grinned.

“Latin girl who can kick your ass in sports? I love her already.”

Rowan laughed.

“I’m going to Austin after my exam, but she’s planning on coming to LA sometime after that. If you’re free, you could fly out, I have airline miles—“

“I’d love to,” Cash interjected, clapping Ro in the back. “But I’m going to be out of commission for the next few months. I promise I’ll meet her properly soon, though. She seems cool as hell.”

Not to be put off by the diversion regarding Aelin, Rowan frowned, narrowing his eyes as he scrutinized his friend’s expression. Cash’s answering smile was cryptic and slightly wild. It was then Ro remembered what Cash had told him when he’d first gotten into town days ago.

“Fuck,” he said, running a hand through his silver hair. “I feel like such a dick, you said you had news. I totally forgot, I’m sorry.”

Cash laughed, the sound easy and unburdened.

“You just met the women you’re probably going to marry. I’ll give you a pass.”

Rowan thought to object to the notion he was going to marry Aelin after only three days together, but something told him not to.

“Well tell me now,” Rowan said instead.

His friend’s cryptic smile returned, mischief sparkling in his hazel eyes.

“The only thing worse than having too many secrets,” Cash always said. “Is having none at all.”

Ro had a feeling Cash was about to drop a big one on him right now.

“I’m moving to London.”

“Wait?” Rowan demanded. “Seriously?”

Cash grinned.

“Seriously.”

“Just for a change of pace?”

“Partly,” Cash said with a shrug. “But mostly to be a Master Sommelier.”

Now that, Rowan had not expected. He struggled to pick his jaw off the floor enough to speak.

“Like a wine expert?” He said, stunned. “I thought you didn’t like wine! You always ripped on your uncle for opening Merchant of Vino!”

Cash laughed.

“That’s because it’s a stupid name and Dev’s a hapless businessman.“

Rowan still couldn’t fully master his shock, though it was quickly being subsumed by an overwhelming pride.

“This is amazing, man,” he said, clasping Cash’s shoulder. “When did you decide to do this?”

Cash’s smile had grown slightly sheepish.

“When I first sat for the Level One Sommelier exam three years ago?”

“Three years?” Rowan repeated. “You’ve been sitting on this for three fucking years? Why didn’t you say anything? Every time I asked about your job you brushed me off!”

Cash rubbed the back of his neck.

“I didn’t want to tell you in case it—didn’t pan out.”

“Seems like it’s panning out just fine!” Rowan said with a laugh.

“It’s going alright,” Cash agreed with a laugh. “Considering I passed the theory portion of the Master Sommelier exam. I just have to complete the tasting and I’ll be one of 229 Masters Somms in the world.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rowan blurted. “That’s incredible. How does London fit into all this?”

“If I said the name Sadeghi, would that mean anything to you?”

“Persian billionaires or something?”

Cash nodded.

“The old man is from originally from Tehran, but the family has been in England for ages; they’re real estate royalty in the UK. Sadeghi put his son in charge opening a new hotel and restaurant in London, and I’m going to be the wine manager. Make the lists, relationship build with vineyards, that kind of thing. They’ve already hired a Michelin Star chef from Marrakech, so it’s...a pretty big deal. It’s also a good way to for me to grow my network while I study for the exam. I don’t want to be stuck in the restaurant business forever.”

“Cash,” Rowan said, grinning. “That’s amazing.”

Cash smiled.

“Maybe you and Aelin can come visit once I get settled,” Cash said in deflection, clearly at his limit for discussing himself. “You know, Aelin your girlfriend.”

Rowan had to laugh.

He had a girlfriend.

And—Jesus Christ—Cash was moving to England. It was almost too much good news for a single day.

“I’m happy for you,” he told his friend, giving his shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “And you deserve this. You’re going to crush it”

“I hope so,” Cash said. “The pass rate for the tasting portion of the exam is 32%.”

“You’re the smartest person I know,” Rowan said. “So that number means nothing.”

Cash grinned.

“You flirting with me, Whitethorn?”

“If you’re going to be friends with billionaires, you need to learn how to start taking compliments,” Rowan said with a chuckle.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Cash said, and Rowan could see the unsaid words shining in his friend’s hazel eyes. “Another drink?”

Cash turned to slip off the stool he’d been perched on, by Rowan caught his arm.

“Cash.”

Cash turned back, expression somewhat bemused. Rowan felt a lump beginning to form in his throat, but he pushed on regardless.

“It’ll be you, you know that right?”

“Be me?” Cash repeated, confused.

“When I get married—whoever I get married to—you’ll be my best man. I couldn’t have it any other way.”

Cash smiled, eyes sparkling. He considered this for a moment before pulling Rowan into a hug, one which Rowan gratefully accepted.

“Love you, brother.”

There were very few people Rowan considered worthy of this type of familial affection, but Cash was certainly one of them.

“I’m not drunk enough for this kind of thing,” Cash said, pulling away. “I’m going to get us another drink.”

Rowan’s phone buzzed with an incoming call just as Cash was sauntering away. He was surprised to find it was Aelin, and concern sluiced through him as he answered the call.

Before he could ask if she was okay, Aelin said, “Stupid flight attendant has been holding out on me. She waited until just now to tell me I could make calls on WiFi.”

Rowan felt amusement tugging at his lips.

“Should I be concerned that you’re calling from altitude? Nothing’s wrong, is there?”

Rowan could practically hear Aelin’s grin through the phone.

“No,” she said breezily “But I realized I never told you about the Cinnabon I had on my way to the gate. I figured I should call and tell you now lest I forget.”

“Oh yeah?” Rowan said.

He couldn’t help it; he was all-out smiling now.

“It was life-changing,” Aelin said.

Rowan glanced up to find Cash joining Fen and Lor at the pool table with a conspiratorial wink. When he mouthed ‘sorry’ and made to rise, Cash waved him off with a smile.

“In that case,” Rowan said, settling back on his stool. “Tell me everything.”

THE END

If you liked this story and want more Rowaelin, check out my Nessian fic In Vino Veritas, set in the same modern au-verse about four years later. If you want a sneak peak at how Lorcan’s romance check out the teaser for F*cking Lawyers, set within the In Vino timeline. ♥️ 

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[elfyourmother]

Character meme: Aymeric!

Buckle up kids, this is gonna be long

How I feel about this character:

My favorite Alliance leader by far, one of my favorite characters period, and most definitely one of my Comfort Characters. It was absolutely love at first sight. Yes, he's beautiful, but I live for palace intrigue and skullduggery so naturally I was drawn to him even beyond how breathtakingly pretty he is. Forgive me for HP-ing on main here but Aymeric is always the first character I point to when I'm trying to explain that Slytherins aren't inherently evil; that he's ambitious and cunning but uses that to good ends, like the sneaky way he aided the Scions early on when we first met him. And like Haurchefant, it was clear even then how different he was from his countrymen; he was no wild-eyed, Enchiridion-thumping fanatic despite being a Temple Knight. If he was a little severe on the surface at first, it was because he does absolutely everything with deliberate care, being extremely aware of the narrow lines he had to walk not just because of his position in the Holy See but as a progressive, reform-minded person in such a hidebound society.

And christ did I relate to him, having to navigate this rarefied world where he had to be twice as good as anyone because of his background. That "I don't come from good stock" line, and the matter of fact way he said it, hit me right in my working class Black kid childhood at a rich WASP NYC prep school. And that was before we found out he was Thordan's secret bastard.

Aymeric just makes my heart sing, is what it comes down to. As much as Haurche and Estinien and Ysayle. This is a man who literally had to have his morning tea at the damn front, how could I not fall madly in love with him??

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

Gisele, first and foremost, not just for how ridiculously attractive they are together, but also because they have so fucking much in common. Aymeric very much shares her idealistic worldview while at the same time being very cognizant of the realities of the world he lives in and how delicate the lines are he has to walk. In a lot of ways, Aymeric as Lord Commander of the Temple Knights reminds me very much of Warden-Commander Gisele in the old DA verse I built and as Lord Speaker he governs almost precisely the way Queen Gisele did in that same verse. And they are both incredibly image-conscious and both of them clawed their way up to positions of influence and power, despite the hands they were dealt in life. Their pillow talk involves politics as much as sweet nothings.

I know I say this a lot but I would ship Haurchefant and Estinien with Aymeric even if Gisele wasn't in the picture. Estinien has that fire-forged partnership aspect, the unlikely friendship that grew between them, etc. It's the obvious one, but I think Haurchefant fits with him so ridiculously well that I'm shocked more people don't seem to ship it. Edmont literally tells Aymeric he's not only like another son to him, but that he sees a lot of Haurchefant in him. And it's true, they really do have a lot of similarities; Aymeric is just as idealistic, just as much a romantic as Haurche, he just hides it better.

And then there’s Ysayle and all the wonderful enemies-to-lovers stuff and the fraught nature of it given her past and the conspiracy theories his detractors cooked up about coups and whatnot. But they’re perfect for each other imo because they’re also fantastic foils in the same sense that Ysayle and Gisele are. The difference ofc being that Ysayle would never approach him of her own accord, out of guilt, and Aymeric is too concerned with the political ramifications. So this one I think would be less plausible without Gisele’s encouragement, even if Ysayle somehow managed to still survive Azys Lla without Gisele’s intervention. But in her verse it’s wonderful.

I also ship him with Raubahn, something I did totally by accident and messed me up real bad fhdskfs but it’s entirely that weary soldier thing, and mutual affection for

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

Lucia; I understand the shippy feelings some have but I read her as a lesbian and I love the undying loyalty she has for him. Aside from her it's got to be Edmont, for reasons I mentioned in the last answer, but in addition to that there's the frequently missed little detail that Edmont stepped down as ruling Count of House Fortemps entirely to take the heat off Aymeric when rumors were swirling that he was complicit in a coup on Thordan. It really had nothing to do with Edmont himself and his position.

And his cat.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

Aymeric directing WoL and Alphinaud to throw Nidhogg's Eyes into the chasm wasn't at all stupid or ill-conceived a plan and I hate that people harp on this plot point or talk about him like he was stupid for it. Given the context of the situation it was a perfectly reasonable thing to do. Aymeric had already seen his oldest friend and companion nearly lose himself to the damn things, as a start, and reacted like a totally normal person would in the heat of the moment; clearly he was worried about WoL and Alph.

Who tf would have or could have foreseen that dead ghost people from another world would go in there to retrieve them? Or even an Ascian, given the two that were fucking with Ishgard were really most sincerely dead at that point? It reeks of Monday morning quarterbacking and it gets on my nerves and I was actually irritated he was made to apologize for it in Stormblood. He had nothing to apologize for as far as I’m concerned, though I do thought it was very much IC for him to do it.

On a similar note: he wasn’t being a naive fool when he chose to confront Thordan with the truth about the beginnings of the war, he was playing a Xanatos Gambit and calling the old man’s bluff. He knew damn well that his father would react poorly to being confronted with the truth that the foundational myths of Ishgard's entire society were convenient lies. The reason he confronted him anyway was to force Thordan's hand. I think on some level Aymeric wanted to believe that he could be reasoned with, but was fully prepared for it to go south and knew it would still serve his purpose, and he even says as much when Edmont's trying to talk him out of it. Either Thordan reacts in a reasonable manner and they discuss things and work it out to tell the people the truth, or he gets exposed as the evil mastermind he actually is, and Aymeric is then able to act suitably against him. But that doesn't mean he didn't feel a deep sense of hurt at just how badly his father betrayed him.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.:

That we hadn't gotten cockblocked at dinner that night, and that the conversation could have been longer. (I held a grudge against Renda-Rae literally until I killed her Virtue form for that) I know this isn't that kind of game at all, and I'm honestly glad for it to an extent because it gives me the freedom to write how I want and avoid dumb ship wars and what not in the fandom but I still want to kiss this elf why won't you let me kiss him???????

More seriously though, I would like to hear more of his perspective on his faith. For a guy who led an order that would be called Paladins in any other setting (grumblegrumble), we only basically got the one line outside Snowcloak, but that was really it. Which is wild considering he was interim Archbishop for a hot minute. I have my own ideas obviously and talk about it in fic but it'd be nice to see anything at all in canon, especially his opinions on where the church is headed post-war.

And I want to know about his mom, who was she?

Also also let us see his cat, dammit

[reckonslepoisson]

Donda, Kanye West (2021)

First, I suppose, one has to clear out of Donda what a decent label should have already. All of the ‘pt 2’s can be skipped, not necessarily because they’re bad but because they aren’t as good as the originals. It also just so happens that the abusers/homophobes feature on some of Donda’s worst tracks (however, the Manson-featuring ‘Jail’ is worth a look-in simply for the novelty of such a terrible Jay-Z verse – maybe Jay’s worst ever), though the bouts of low-key, repetitive trap tunes and the likes of ‘Donda Chant’ and ‘Tell The Vision’ are also, to me, obvious excess.

If that sounds like I’ve hacked at Donda a bit (I have), fear not – that doesn’t mean I think it’s a bad album. In fact, what I like, I like a lot. By my reckoning, a playlist of Donda’s most acceptable tunes sits at a very manageable twelve songs and fifty minutes, and amongst that isn’t just some fantastic music but near-total glory: some of Kanye West’s finest music, ever.

Of those, there are a few different types of tunes. One is a certain intense, repetitive banger that combines Yeezus’ post-industrial haze and clatter with something much more hymnal. The likes of ‘God Breathed’, ‘Off The Grid’ and ‘Praise God’ are outstanding in their outward simplicity and inner depth: tunes with big hooks buttressed by rich beat-making and remarkable guest performances.

‘Hurricane’ is the first Donda tune to hint at something even more beautiful, sublime even, than the rest. The Weeknd turned liturgical, this kind of contemplative sort-of-banger pops up a few more times: most notably on the warped, rough gospel of ‘24’ (this is what Jesus Is King should have been) and ‘Keep My Spirit Alive’, the first truly sentimental cut I’ve heard from the Griselda crew – and which totally stuns me.

Donda’s final type of tune (in broad strokes, obviously – there’s a lot more variety than I can be bothered to go into) is that which is simply phenomenal. Three tunes here are solidly among Kanye’s best: ‘Moon’ is utterly gorgeous, wistful and joyous; ‘Jesus Lord’ is a peak beyond, with emotional pulls on several levels (beat, hook, refrain, Ye verse, outro recording); while ‘No Child Left Behind’ continues that momentum. These tunes are transcendent – among Kanye’s best, ever.

‘No Child Left Behind’ would be Donda’s perfect end – even though, of course, it isn’t. My shortened Donda is one of the best albums of the year, maybe Kanye’s best since My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, but the reality is that Donda is an album of astronomic peaks and a lot of filler. As a whole, it’s tiring and flawed but those peaks will keep listeners coming back, a reminder of Kanye’s lasting capacity not just for showmanship and controversy, but for making really, really great music too.

Pick: ‘Jesus Lord��