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mariaofdoranelle · 1 year

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Look at Us Now - Ch. 1

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Oh, hi, guys! Welcome to my new hyper fixation!! *fireworks* *champagne glasses* *me smiling like a maniac*

I really hope you like this new au! My other ones are still in progress, I’m just really excited about this lol

Warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking, mentions of sketchy cigars, mentions of a fistfight, mentions of a sprained ankle, promises of smutty times

Words: 3,3k

This party was falling apart. Literally.

Uncle Orlon thought it was a good idea to bring Aelin to this year's Aviator's Ball, so she could meet her future bosses with a little less pressure. At first, it was all fancy uniforms, expensive drinks and small talk. Now that it was past midnight, some of the older officers with the highest ranks had left—Like Orlon and Darrow—, a drunk major knocked down a massive flower arrangement, and the guy Aelin was flirting with had offered her a very sketchy-looking cigar, which she politely declined.

When two lieutenants started a fistfight, Aelin knew it was time to go.

She speed walked through the crowd of people, and even bumped her shoulder against the party planner's, who was going toward the brawl. The poor girl.

When she finally stepped outside, it felt like she could finally breathe.

"Staying out of trouble?" A deep voice asked her. Aelin looked around until she found an officer leaning on the side of the stairs that led to the garden. With his face lit up by the moonlight and eyes sparkling as they studied each other, he was breathtaking. Or at least that was Aelin's first thought when she saw him.

Aelin walked towards him. Staying out of trouble was Uncle Orlon's only request, but she also didn't want to look bad in front of her future bosses and future coworkers. That sounded like a suicide mission.

"Seems like that's what you're doing."

The hot officer chuckled. "Turns out being locked up becomes really easy when you're in the military. Specially when you make yourself some unruly friends."

"Have you ever been to the guardhouse?"

"Fuck, no."

She leaned against the wall on his side and shook his hand. "I'm Aelin."

"Rowan."

Turning fully towards him, she flipped her hair back a little to expose her shoulders and cleavage. "It's really hot in here, isn't it?"

Rowan got sidetracked by her exposed skin for a millisecond, then his eyes snapped back to hers. "You think so?"

"I know so, and I think it's because of—"

"Global warming, I know. God, this city gets hotter each year."

"What?"

He tilted his head. "You don't agree? This city's weather is hell."

Aelin clamped her lips together and tried not to laugh, even though her shoulders were shaking already. "I was going to land a pickup line, Rowan."

"Oh." He blushed, and it was the most adorable thing. "I thought we were talking about carbon monoxide."

Aelin chuckled. "Well, you ruined my pickup line now."

"My roommate teaches me a lot of those, but I won't use them."

"Why?"

Rowan leaned sideways on the wall and smirked. "Because I'm not trying to pick you up, I'm feeling like pinning you down instead."

She looked up, gaping. Aelin could kill that blunt, sassy grin of his. Or kiss it. God, she really wanted to kiss him now. Since he noticed her minutes ago, actually.

It was beautiful, how that smirk melted as his eyes darkened. The fabric of his uniform under her fingertips and Aelin's hands going up until they reached the lapels and clenched.

With both hands on her waist, Rowan was already one breath away from her when he closed their lips together with small, tentative brushes. At least until Aelin closed her arms around his neck and almost crushed their faces together, deepening the kiss.

His hands were everywhere. Her hips, her waist, toying with the straps of her dress. All that clashing and flicking and grabbing was making her heartbeat go wild. When it became too much, Rowan grabbed her upper arms and mentioned to lean away, but Aelin gently bit his lower lip to stop him.

Stay here, she conveyed.

He gave her small, gentle kisses and rested his forehead against hers, both heavily breathing against each other.

"You're not someone's wife, right?"

"What?" she breathed. Aelin's mind was still foggy from the kiss, she must've heard the wrong thing.

He swallowed and slid his hand down her arms, squeezing her fingers at the end. "That's why Fenrys got into a fistfight at the party. He made out with another officer's wife."

Aelin leaned away to properly look at his face, trying to understand what was going on. First, who the hell is Fenrys? Second, did he just stop their kiss to ask if she was married? Because he was avoiding a fistfight?

She sighed. You know what, that was fair.

Shaking her head, Aelin wiggled all her ringless fingers.

His eyes assessed her lack of uniform. "Someone's daughter, then. I think that's even worse."

A troublesome smirk was her only answer. Well, she was someone's great-niece, but it became almost the same if she considered Orlon raised Aelin since she was eight.

Looking up, Rowan cursed under his breath. Probably calculating his chances of being punished for this if her date—Brigadier Galathynius, not that he knew it—discovered. Proving her theory right, he asked, "They outrank me, right?"

Aelin raised her eyebrows. "You want to fuck me or not?"

"What?" His eyes widened, then he flinched. "Fuck, sorry, babe." He trailed kisses from her jaw to her lips, tugging her closer by the waist.

She hummed. That was much better.

"Do you want to leave before this party burns itself to the ground?" He whispered in her ear.

She chuckled. "Sure."

They were silently walking wherever he was leading her. One-night stands were so awkward sometimes, but Aelin was feeling good about this one. There was something comforting about Rowan, but she was failing to point what exactly. At one point, their hands accidentally grazed, but he kept them there and slowly intertwined their fingers.

Aelin hid a grimace when she saw his car, though. "I live in the village." She pointed in the direction of one of the military villages they had close by. "We can go by foot."

"You think I'd drink in front of all my bosses?"

He had a good point. It seemed like he was the only officer who cared, though. She had no idea how he understood her concerns so quickly, but Aelin didn't want to think too hard on this.

"I thought you should know I just moved in and my house is... lacking." He scratched the back of his head. "If you don't mind."

"Oh." She tilted her head. "We can go to my place, if you think that's better."

His shoulders dropped in relief. "You're sure it won't cause trouble?"

"I know my way around those security cameras." Aelin waved him off and leaned her side on his car. "But I still need to know what's lacking in your house."

Rowan's cheeks went crimson in a heartbeat. "I have a bed, it just hasn't arrived yet."

Aelin started cackling, her body trembling with laughter as he stared at her with the corners of his lips tugging up.

"I physically have a matteress, though!" He yelled over her laughter and opened the car, "And a great wall."

Things got quieter inside the car, so it was Aelin's cue to update her boyfriend, who was a little back and forth between Doranelle and Rifthold these days. He never told her about his one-night stands, which she didn't mind, but it felt wrong to sleep with someone without telling him.

Aelin: found myself a hot officer for the night

Aelin: we're going to my place

Dorian: how hot is he

Aelin: 8,5 maybe?

Such a horrendous lie. Aelin never graded her boy toys above 9 because she felt better if only her actual boyfriend was a 10. Truth was, if Dorian is a 10, Rowan is at least a 12. Actually, he was so handsome it made a lot of sense grading him above maximum score.

Dorian: nice

Dorian: have fun babe x

Rowan cleared his throat when they arrived at the village. Quickly tucking her phone back inside her purse, Aelin gave the directions of her house and made him park two houses before.

They silently walked together, until she stopped him on the border between her house and the neighbor's.

"I'm assuming you don't want to get caught by the cameras, since you're so scared of my uncle."

His eyes sparkled now that she satisfied his curiosity. Or maybe made it worse. There was no way to know. "An uncle, then." Rowan raised his eyebrows. "I'm not scared of him, but it would be nice if you could assure me he won't put me in the guardhouse for this."

Aelin snorted. Orlon couldn't hurt a fly if he wanted to, and even Darrow was a huge softie inside. But just the thought of sneaking out a little with her hot officer sent a thrill down her spine, so she kept her mouth shut.

"This wall we're in, it's a blind spot." When Aelin looked at Rowan, he was the most focused she'd seen tonight. An airman ready for battle. "We'll follow that path until we reach the porch, then we climb on the first window. It's my cousin's room, but he doesn't live here anymore. Then I'll check if the coast is clear, and my room is the one right next to it. Got it?"

Rowan nodded, eyes still calculating their path.

"It's the only way to get inside without getting caught on camera," Aelin added.

"This sounds like my training."

Aelin made eye contact, her chest a little more thrusted out than before. "Is the reward as good?"

"Not really, no," he muttered, his eyes on her lips.

"Well, you'll have to work for it, Officer," she said before tugging his arm towards the low fence they needed to climb.

From the moment Aelin decided she wanted to become a doctor, she knew she'd work at the Air Force General Hospital.

This was the place she came to get her first casket when she was nine, after falling from her rollerskates. The place Aelin reached for when she got a little too drunk at seventeen, and made Aedion flirt with the doctor so she wouldn't snitch on them to Uncle Orlon. She was comfortable there. It felt familiar.

During those early daydreams about her own life, Aelin never thought about the moments she'd wish she worked somewhere else, though. They were nothing more than fleeting thoughts, she loved her job. But they still happened on days like this.

When Aelin opened the X-ray images on her computer, the boy's ankle didn't seem to be broken. One small blessing.

His eyes went wide when she told him so. "But it feels like it is."

Aelin gave him a sympathetic smile. "It's just a sprain, but I'll prescribe you some painkillers and—"

"Good, now we can go back to training," his instructor interrupted.

A death glare was Aelin's only response before she continued, "And I need you to rest that feet for two days—"

"Absolutely not!" The unwanted instructor cut in again, making the boy freeze on his seat. "What's the point of painkillers if he can't even exercise?"

"Captain Whitethorn," she hissed, "I believe I am the doctor here."

He slowly turned to that terrified boy. "Do you mind giving the doctor and I a moment to speak?"

"No." Aelin got up before he could. "Captain Whitethorn and I can talk in another room." She pointed at his swollen ankle. "You rest that feet."

Rowan followed her to an empty room two doors down, and they closed the door, it was like... It was like every other day, actually.

"You." He pointed a finger at her. "Do not question my authority in front of my students, Lieutenant."

"And you." She pointed a finger back. "Do not question my authorithy as a doctor in front of my patients, asshole."

"I was not trying to—"

"Yes, you were!" Aelin screamed this time. "Every day, you question what, when, how—"

"Well, maybe I wouldn't need to question if you just—"

"If I just what?" She opened her arms, tired of this. "If I just acted exactly like you?"

Rowan just stared at her with that intense look of his.

Aelin took a deep breath. She wouldn't put sense in Rowan's head by screaming. She never did.

"Luca—"

He raised his eyebrows. "Seriously? You're trying to guilt trip me by using his first name?"

"It's his first week here, and he's already in the hospital, Rowan! He's a teenage boy! He's someone's kid!" Aelin yelled, her tone increasing with each argument.

"Don't you even think about mentioning my daughter! He's the one who enlisted. I'm just doing my job."

She sighed. "I know you are, but your teaching techniques..."

He scoffed. "Don't act like you didn't love my teaching techniques back then."

"Fuck you!"

There were two loud bangs in the door before Aelin's tiniest, angriest co-worker barged in.

"You two." Elide's finger darted between them before she continued. "Seriously? Again?"

Rowan didn't dare point out that he was being talked down by someone with a lower rank than his. He knew better than to argue with Elide.

She continued, "I'm going to discharge your patient, and you two are leaving. Now."

Aelin looked at her watch. Fuck, they needed to rush if they didn't want to be late.

She turned to Rowan. "I'll be in the car in 5." And stopped. Aelin slowly turned to Elide and said, "Tell the patient that Captain Whitethorn told him to go home and come back in two days."

Rowan clenched his jaw, arms already crossed, but said nothing. He knew he had no chance with Aelin and Elide together.

The drive was pretty silent after that, but not exactly comfortable. She knew their fight hadn't ended yet, but it had to for now. They needed to look composed for this.

They heard the deafening sound of children screaming before the car could park at the Air Force school, made specially for the children of the Air Force personnel. It wasn't one of those fancy Montessori schools with hyper-specialized teachers, but it was a good school right next to the village they lived in. It was the best choice for them.

Rowan didn't think so. And he always let her know that, from big arguments to the classic arms-crossed-and-narrowed-eyes thing he was doing now.

She wouldn’t acknowledge his dissatisfaction now, though. They walked together until the pre-K area, which was separated from the big kids', and it took no time at all until a soft set of limbs wrapped themselves around her legs.

Aelin crouched down to talk to her daughter and adjust that messy hair, taking it out of the front of her gorgeous deep green eyes, when Maisie's jaw fell. And she shrieked.

"DADDY!" Was the only thing she screamed before jumping on Rowan's arms, always ready to catch her. "You said you couldn't pick me up today."

Maisie's hair was completely her own, Aelin noticed as her daughter had her back turned at her, on her dad's arms. Not as pale as Rowan's, not as golden as Aelin's. She had Aelin's nose but, apart from that, Maisie looked like a small Rowan Whithethorn with chubby cheeks.

She was just waiting for her face to be right next to his and... yep, there it is. Copy, paste, add childish features. Genetics sounded a lot simpler than what she studied in college while looking at those two.

Rowan was spinning her around, and Mai's squeals of delight were almost deafning. For the first time since seeing Rowan today, Aelin felt like smiling.

They had conflicts, yes, but Aelin couldn't deny that he was a great dad. She had never resented Rowan for being the parent with the stronger genes, or Maisie for being so much like her father. On the contrary. She even thought it was cute, especially when she saw her daughter's little frown or her shy demeanor with strangers. Maisie's a Whitethorn through and through, or so Rowan's family point out every time they meet.

"How was your day, hun?" Aelin asked on the walk back to the car while brushing her little girl's hair back with her hand.

"I got the littlest, babiest grapes today." She stopped in the middle of the parking lot and opened the lunchbox. "Look!"

Inspecting it, Aelin noticed Maisie's littlest, babiest grapes looked like a car ran them over. "What happened to them?"

She took the lunchbox back and frowned. "I don't know. I slept with them at nap time to protect them, but it didn't work out."

Aelin's lips were clamped together, trying hard not to laugh. That little girl probably squished the poor grapes to death. Rowan seemed to think the same, from the way the corners of his lips were tugging up. Noticing Aelin's stare, he gave her a small smile while ruffling their daughter's hair. She quickly looked away.

They never picked her up together when Maisie was in daycare, but they were doing it as an encouragement now that she was still adapting to preschool.

She always missed one parent while in another's house, even if she spent no more than three days in each house and had daily goodnight calls. Every morning was a different meltdown because she says she doesn't like school, so promising Maisie that both parents would pick her up was a good way to stop a tantrum. Some days, at least.

Their daughter was asleep in the car seat, exhausted from preschooler life, so they kept quiet while Aelin drove Rowan back to base for his night class.

"I'll call you," was the only thing he said. Not goodbye or thank you for the ride.

Aelin knew she meant he'd call Maisie for their goodnight call, but she took the bait anyway. "No, you'll call Maisie."

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose, and Aelin could feel her body go tense again. He was the one annoyed, really?

"I don't understand why we keep having the same conversation over and over."

"Me neither, is that so hard to stop calling me and use the f—" she glanced at Maisie, still asleep. "Fucking parenting app?" Aelin whispered.

"You know what?" He leaned closer to her, hand resting on the car panel. "It is. I hate that app."

"I. Don't. Care. I can't have you calling me several times a day to ask stupid shit like if I packed Maisie's lunch."

Rowan frowned. "That kind of comment isn't helping, Aelin. In fact, it makes me even more concerned."

Was he implying that Aelin didn't care?

Heat flushed through her whole body as she saw red. "Get out of my car."

He didn't.

"Now!" Aelin whisper-yelled, still trying not to wake Maisie up. "Don't you have a student to screw or something?"

Rowan's eyes widened, and every feature of his face slowly started looking consumed by rage. From his glare to his reddened face.

He held back, though.

"You know what?" Rowan unfastened his seatbelt. "I can't talk to you when you're like this."

"Great." Aelin knew she had gone too far. She'd think about it the day she actually cared.

"And I'll call you as many times a day I want whenever you're with my daughter."

He got out and slammed the car door.

Rowan's body went taut at the same time Aelin flinched. They both knew what was happening now.

"Mommy, where's Daddy going?" Their daughter asked a moment later, rubbing her eyes.

Maisie's lips started wobbling the second she noticed Rowan was leaving, and she was wailing even before he could get into the backseat to soothe her. He kept saying that he'd see her at their goodnight call later and tomorrow at the pickup again, but nothing seemed to work.

Resting her head on the steering wheel and taking a deep breath, Aelin tried to think of something. The best bribes were always ice cream or more screen time. She needed to pick her weapons wisely.

@aelinchocolatelover

@autumnbabylon

@bookcide

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@courtofjurdan

@dreamer-133

@elentiyawhitethorn

@elizarikaallen

@fangirlprincess09

@goddess-aelin

@leiawritesstories

@rowanaelinn

@superspiritfestival

@s-uppertime

@thegreyj

@wishfulimaginings

#rowaelin #throne of glass #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass fanfic #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #throne of glass fic #aelin and rowan #tog au #look at us now

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linaxart · 9 months

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Guitarist Joe for @theartguard July theme Music 🎸

#the old guard #tog #yusuf al kaysani #joe al kaysani #tog fanart #the old guard fanart #yusuf al kaysani fanart #tog au #digital art #fanart #clip studio paint #accessible fanart #artists of tumblr #demonicneonfishy #🛐 thank you neon for the best ideas always #also really tried to think of a better caption but brain dry #this took SOOO LONG

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hyporheicflow · 2 years

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TOG mandos compilation :^)

#my art #costume compilations #the old guard #mandalorian #sw au #tog au #tog mandos #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #quynh #andromache the scythian #nile freeman #sebastien le livre

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laviejaguardia · 10 months

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Technical Support - read on ao3

NOW COMPLETE

Joe/Nicky. F1 AU. Rated M. 96k words.

Formula 1 driver Yusuf "Joe" Kaysani has just signed with Old Guard Racing, under the management of Team Principal Andromache Scythian. Like in any new partnership, there's edges to file down to fit and roles to coordinate so it all goes smoothly. In between those questions is the matter of who will be his new race engineer and run comms for him during races. It's a big ask that needs a delicate balance, it can't be just anyone. Engineer Nicolò di Genova has been working at Old Guard Racing for a few years, putting his analytical mind to good use filing down milliseconds off their lap times. He's been content with his work behind the scenes, only briefly stepping into the spotlight when the occasion called for it. Despite the sport's unpredictability, it's been good steady work, surely this new partnership won't change things much for him. Or: Joe runs his mouth when high on adrenaline, Nicky's voice is soothing, and a lot of things can happen in a single F1 season.

Hope you enjoy this labor of love, try to drop a kudos or a comment if you do, they're the blood and bone of fandom :)

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lewis-winters · 8 months

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I know I should be working on other WIPs-- and just working in general-- but I watched The Old Guard again yesterday so here, have the Winnix TOG Canon Divergence AU

tw for: depictions of death, the effects of mustard gas, gore, trauma, and angst!

"Stop touching it."

Dick doesn't. In fact, just to be annoying-- though mostly on reflex-- he brushes past the newly formed scar of Lewis's brow one more time, prodding and poking until finally, fed up, Lew waves his hand away with a weak growl. "You'll open it back up."

Ah. That gets Dick to back off, pulling away abruptly like he'd been scalded. And maybe he has. After all, there's blood on his mind, now. A memory both too fresh to do anything but hurt; but a situation too resolved to feel anything but indignation at his own continued terror.

It's been nearly a millennia since the beginning of their renewed existence, and while they know their lot of second chances are bound to run out one day, surely the familiarity with Death should have settled in their old bones by now. Yet, when She comes, She brings with her all the fanfare that accompanies all finality. Almost immortality does not always warrant camaraderie with pain and grief.

They were luckier this time, at least.

They hadn't been as eager to join this war as they had been the last. Not that he'd been eager to join that war, either. But just like all things, Dick's need for a cause called out to Lewis' need to make sure Dick doesn't lose his goddamn mind fighting until he drops. And so, in the midst of the 1910s, they managed to find themselves spending long nights in the deep, damp French trenches, huddled together in the dark. For two and a half years, they lived like that, shaking apart with fear, both real and imagined, as the rats nibbled on their fingers and infections slowly overtook their lungs and toes. Any warrior worth their salt would know that it's not the fighting that fucks you over, but the waiting in between. The rotting wounds left to fester. The fear that threatened to eat you whole from within, if the bullets about you didn't get to you first. Together, they passed days watching their boys die, either from sickness or bullets or both, their corpses stacked around them so high, in the dark they looked like fortress walls, caging them in as they waited for the moment it would all come toppling down.

Then, the gas came pouring in.

Lewis had taken the brunt of it, in the end, ripping his gas mask off in a desperate attempt to save what was left of Dick's face. Neither of them had enough sense at the time to hear him scream in agony, clawing at his eyes until they were nothing but pulp underneath his fingernails; but the echoes of it would have a chance to ring in Dick's ears anyway. The screaming didn't stop in France.

And it took Lew years to regain his old self, in both nerves and sight; and it took even longer than that for Dick to stop dreaming of scar tissue, gnarled and twisted and angry red, in place of dark brown eyes. The damage healed a lot slower than either of them have ever experienced before, and required more outside help than either of them were comfortable with. By the time the last of Lewis' sight had been restored to him, a whole decade and several new identities had gone by, and Dick had done his best to promise: no more fighting.

They made it through another decade before he broke that one. It barely felt like a blink of an eye.

And now, here they are again. Huddled together, blanketed by dark night, with each other's blood once again under their fingernails, a new scar on Lewis' forehead, and the tangible memory of a crater in the back of his head, where the bullet found its exit and his brains had spattered out of his skull.

"Hey," Lewis breathes, sensing the dark turn Dick's thoughts have gone and reaching out for him, touching his face with cold fingertips. "I'm sorry. That was a bad joke."

Yes. It was. But Dick is not going to reprimand him for it. He's learned that jokes are Lew's best defense against the weight of their prolonged existence. Just like drink. Just like nicotine. Or just like Dick himself, his only lone companion in this casually cruel world. How could Dick ever deny him this?

Tilting their heads together, Dick guides his lips to the new scar, and resolutely tries not to think about how much longer Lew bears the marks of his deaths, and what that might mean for him. "It'll be gone tomorrow," he says, more to himself than Lew. "You'll see. Like brand new."

"Like brand new," Lewis echoes. Resigned. Going boneless as he leans all his (dead) weight into Dick's arms and buries his face in his neck. "Always brand new."

Even against the heat of Dick's skin, Lew stays cold. Dick doesn't think he's ever known a time when he was warm.

Dick and Lewis were made immortal sometime between 58 and 50BC, when Rome waged war against Gaul, as explained in this deleted line: "Lewis was not made for warrior-hood like Dick had been, having gone from the luxury afforded to him by his roman senator father's fortune to a miserable roman centurion on the back of a single mistake alone. He'd known almost nothing the first time he'd fallen under Dick's Gaulic blade; that his own sword had pierced Dick's chest at the same time was a mere fluke he's since been unable to replicate."

#band of brothers #winnix #lewis nixon #dick winters #bob aus #tog au #estrella_marie

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house-of-galathynius · 1 year

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Overdrive

Chapter Four

Chapter Three - Chapter Five

Word Count: 3.1k

Aelin

The luxury of being born into a wealthy family meant that Aelin never really had to think about getting a job or worrying about money. The disadvantage to this was that she spent a lot of her time twiddling her thumbs and trying to figure out what she actually wanted from life.

With Lysandra caring for her new baby and Aedion starting pre-season prep, it meant Aelin was at a loose end. She’d finished her masters degree and hadn’t rushed into finding a position because God knows she didn’t know what she really wanted to do. But she found herself procrastinating, not really finding anything productive to do with her days. There were only so many brunches she could go to with her mum or pilates classes she could stomach. The people who ran in her parents social circle weren’t exactly exciting, and most of them didn’t see the point in Aelin being ambitious— why would she, when her father had enough money to support her indefinitely.

Her father was at the breakfast table reading the news, the TV was on low in the background and her mother was pottering about the kitchen when she entered. Sure, Aelin could have been back in Melbourne in her own apartment or at one of their family houses basking up the sun. But instead she was at her parents’ home in the countryside enjoying her time with them.

“What’s up, kid?” Her dad said cheerfully.

Aelin slumped down into a chair and poured herself some coffee from the pot. “I’m bored.”

Evalin laughed and her dad chuckled to himself. “The garage needs sorting out. Or you can finally fix up the old car in there. It’s been sitting waiting for you for three years.”

Aelin groaned. “I want to do something meaningful, dad. Not hide myself away and play with an old car that will never get driven anyway.”

He put down his tablet and met her eyes. “I told you that Murtaugh offered you a spot as an engineer. You told me there wasn’t any chance in hell you’d go back.”

Which had been true. After her introduction back into the F1 world a month ago, her father had taken it as a sign that she might be willing to jump back into racing again. Rhoe had been full of nothing but glee when he’d informed her that Red Bull needed another engineer for the season. But after one evening surrounded by the drivers— surrounded by Rowan— it had all but confirmed her aversion to that industry and the people within it.

“It might be a really good opportunity for you. You’d barely interact with the drivers and it’d mean you could be with Aedion and support him for the season.” Her mother said with a slight hopefulness to her voice. “Plus, it would get you out of the house and doing something you love.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”

Her parents laughed, but shared a look as if to say that they were trying to get rid of her. “We’ll support you in whatever you do, Aelin. But it’s been four months since you graduated and I think that it would be a really great opportunity for you.”

It was true. What better experience was there than becoming an engineer for a Formula One team? Since she had been ten years old, it had been her goal to become one. Her dream had started because she had been desperate to make sure her dad’s car was the safest it could possibly be. Then it had morphed into genuine enjoyment and before everything had gone to shit, she had been on course to join Red Bull as an apprentice. Then the shit-show had happened. And all she wanted to do was leave behind any sort of memory of Rowan— including anything to do with F1. But she had a stubborn realisation that she wasn’t going to let him take everything from her. So she’d stayed and endured the years of study.

She turned back to her parents, “I don’t even like being around those people. Going to the awards with Aedion was enough to remind me that I don’t care for that world.” Although her heart was saying that it would be fun, that maybe she could ignore him.

“Ace, that was one evening. You know what those events are like… you’d be too busy during the day to think about where you were and too tired in the evening to bother with socialising. And the reporters will stay away from you because they can’t go near the cars anyway.”

Her mother nodded in agreement. “Don’t let one person ruin this for you. You have been working so hard to achieve this. It’d be a shame to let it go to waste.”

As always, her mother was right. Aelin hated that fact… but she also hated being in this in between state with nothing to do. And it was probably true; she’d barely see the drivers and she’d be too tired after the day of work to bother socialising with any of them. But she would be lying if she didn’t say that her stomach dipped at the thought of spending nine months travelling the world in close quarters to Rowan.

“I’ll leave it up to you. But don’t say no just because you’re scared.”

Rowan

Pre-season testing always hyped him up. The winter break was always too long and he craved to be back in the car.

This winter break had felt too long.

When he had finally received the email of his schedule and he realised there were only two weeks left before he would be back in the car, he could barely contain his excitement. In fact, he’d gone out with Fenrys that evening and had celebrated the return of the season with one last booze-fest and then rewarded himself with the prettiest girl in the bar.

His head didn’t thank him the next day, but it had been enough fun that he didn’t care. Of course, once he’d politely encouraged the woman to leave his house he’d finally felt fully relaxed and could enjoy a long run on his treadmill and an easy breakfast on the patio.

The house he lived in might have felt empty, but there were still certain parts of it that he loved. Although, he was eagerly anticipating the day he would get to leave and not have to look at the place for almost a year.

Rowan’s phone vibrated on the table and when he saw Aedion’s name on the screen he felt an ounce of dread seep into him. Whilst he had a lot of respect for Aedion on and off the track, the two of them rarely communicated unless it was to do with something race related.

“Hey man.” Rowan answered casually.

There was faint crying of a baby in the background and then Aedion’s voice cutting through it. “Hey. Sorry to call you so early. I just thought you should be aware of something.”

Rowan sat up straighter. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course. I mean, I’m great. But um,” there was a beat of silence, “Aelin is coming to join the team. Murtaugh offered her a position as an engineer for this season.”

Rowan was quiet. “I thought she turned it down?”

“She was going to. But she changed her mind.” There was sigh through the phone and then Aedion began talking again. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you and honestly at this point I’m too afraid to ask. But I wanted you to know so that you weren’t surprised when she’s there.”

“Right.” He replied slowly. He didn’t know what Aedion wanted him to say. Did he want Rowan to kick off and complain? Or was he waiting for Rowan to admit something about their relationship— or lack thereof. He wasn’t entirely sure, and in all honesty his emotions about this bit of news were all over the place. “Thanks for the heads up.”

“Sure,” Aedion said hesitantly, “you’re not going to make this an issue, are you?”

Rowan scoffed. “No offence, Aedion. But I don’t care about your cousin coming to work for the team. All I am focused on is winning another championship.” The word cousin seemed to be the only way Rowan could pretend that she was just another insignificant person.

“Got it. I’ll see you in a few weeks then.”

The phone went dead and Rowan didn’t move from his position. He’d assumed his run-in with Aelin at the awards ceremony was a one-off. She hadn’t been in the F1 world for five years and he had assumed after their disastrous meeting last time, she would just avoid coming back into it again.

Rowan realised he was gripping the table so tight that his knuckles were turning white. He immediately let go and paced across the floor. He tried to convince himself that it wouldn’t be that bad. She may not be working on his car… and even if she was, he’d only have to see her in passing and he could ignore her.

He’d just finished a run but his body was tense again. He would need to find a better coping mechanism than this for when he was around her more.

Aelin

Murtaugh had been more than thrilled at Aelin wanting to join the team. And though she had her reservations about being back, there was a simmering excitement within her at getting to work on such an exciting project.

Her father and Aedion had been just as excited as her and the two of them had been swapping stories with her all evening. Although her father had retired to bed when the clock had hit one in the morning— leaving Aelin and Aedion to finish off the bottle of whisky between themselves and enjoy the last weekend before shit hit the fan.

“I told Rowan you’re coming back.” Aedion said in between sips.

Aelin rolled her head to the side and glared at him. “Why would you do that?”

Aedion shrugged. “I didn’t want there to be any surprises. After your last encounters with each other, I thought it be best that he was aware you’d be around.”

“Shouldn’t you be spending your time looking after your newborn? Rather than worrying about how Rowan might react to seeing me?”

Aedion snorted. “I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you say his name since whatever happened.”

“I’ve said his name plenty of times.” She replied defensively.

“Ace, I’m being serious. If at any point you think that you two are going to clash and make working together difficult, you have to say. Rowan is on a mission for another championship and you have a massive responsibility in making sure our cars are the best they can be. You can’t be distracted.”

“Jesus, Aedion. I know.” She finished her drink and turned to him, “if I thought I couldn’t handle it, I wouldn’t have said yes.”

Aedion went silent. She knew that she was being unfair on him. After all, he was just trying to look out for her. But she didn’t need him or anyone else telling her how to work or to be careful. She was a grown up. And she had been letting what happened with Rowan stop her from being in the world she used to love for too long.

“Whatever happened between us is over. I think seeing him again made me realise I’ve been holding onto anger against him for too long and I need to get over it.”

Aedion laughed. “The fact you’ve been holding a grudge for so long suggests that you won’t get over it that quickly.”

Aelin playfully hit him and poured herself another drink. “We’ll see. At this point I’m just going to stay away from him because I don’t think I have anything nice to say anyway.”

“So mature of you.”

It was the first time in a while that she had been able to talk about Rowan without wanting to scream at the top of her lungs or hide away in a corner from embarrassment. Whilst she had spent five years trying to forget about him and avoid talking about him, in her subconscious there was always a part of her that remembered the day they stopped being friends. She didn’t think that any amount of time would erase the memory of it. Her therapist had told her multiple times that talking it out with Rowan would ease the pain, but Aelin had been unwilling to listen and had shut down any further conversations about him. But maybe her therapist had been right…

She finished her drink and then stood. “I’m going to head to bed. I’ve got some prep to do before I start work next week and would rather not be hanging for the next two days.”

She left Aedion sitting there and as she made her way into bed and lay there thinking; she hoped that what they had talked about what be true. She wanted nothing more than for this job to work out. And she hoped that both her and Rowan would be mature enough to work together civilly.

Rowan

The only thing he didn’t enjoy about his job was the meetings. Gods they dragged on so long, and there were always so many of them. Especially at the beginning of the season when there were so many new people and new things to learn. But Rowan absolutely loathed the day long talks and the constant stream of people trying to speak to him— or on some occasions— flirt with him.

There were of course the people he was happy to see. And he spent as much time with them as possible before he was pulled away by Murtaugh to say hello to others.

“Rowan, we want you to come meet your engineers.” One of the coordinators told him, interrupting a dull conversation with a stakeholder.

He happily followed the petite red-haired into the large conference room and nodded in acknowledgement to a couple of long-term employees— whose names he should have known. Then he was being seated at the head of the table and within seconds there were people pouring into the room as well. Some of them smiled at him, others gave him a look of pity— he reminded himself to steer clear of them when they were in the garage. The ones who didn’t look at him at all were few, and they tended to be the newest members who were still a little awe-struck at being around him and Aedion.

Rowan was politely listening to what the coordinator had to say when his attention shifted to the door. His stomach did a flip at seeing her standing there— chuckling to something Murtaugh had just said. It seemed the entirety of the room had shifted their attention to her now, too. Not only did she have this immediate draw to her, but she was the spitting image of her father— save for those Ashryver eyes.

“What is she doing here?” Rowan asked the red-haired girl who was still loitering beside him. Her own gaze fixed on Aelin.

“I thought you were aware that Aelin is joining the team as an engineer.”

“I did. But what is she doing here.” He said again, gesturing to the room.

The red-head swallowed. “She’ll be working on your car for the season.”

Rowan swore under his breath. What the fuck was Murtaugh thinking? He’d made his feelings about her joining the team very clear after he’d found out. He had said to his team principle that he would be as civil as he could and if they ever interacted it would be friendly. But she was not to be anywhere near his side of the garage, if Murtaugh could help it. Rowan couldn’t be doing with any sort of distractions this season. Not if he wanted the championship again.

Just as Rowan was about to go to Murtaugh, the old man made his way to him.

“Get over it, Whitethorn.” And that was all he had to say.

The meeting was short and sweet and Rowan was ready to get the hell out when Murtaugh had finished his speech. He hadn’t spotted Aelin leave, but she had clearly had the same feelings as him and had left as quickly as she could. And for that he was more than grateful.

Rowan was halfway down the corridor, finding the bathrooms— his mind on Aelin, not paying attention to what he was doing— as he went straight into someone as they exited the same door he was entering.

“Oof.” The woman’s voice said.

Rowan steadied her with his hands on her shoulders. It took a moment to see who exactly he had touched and then he was ripping his hands from her like the contact was burning him.

“Watch where you’re going.” Aelin said bitterly. “Or can you do what you like because you’re Rowan Whitethorn?”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like a fucking child, Aelin.”

“Rich coming from you.” She snarled.

“I’d be careful how you speak to me. I could have you fired faster than you could blink.”

Aelin laughed hollowly. “I think you forget who my father is.”

Rowan cocked his head, “you can’t stand there and tell me I do what I want, when you throw your father’s name around just as much to get what you want.”

Aelin was silent. And Rowan gave a satisfied smile. If Aelin wanted to act like this, then he could play the game too. She was still holding open the bathroom door and he was blocking her exit.

“Don’t you think we should try and be nice to each other? As we will be working closely together for the foreseeable future.” He said eventually.

Aelin narrowed her eyes. “I don’t need to be nice to you to be able to do my job efficiently. Just stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.” With that, she brushed past him, leaving him seething in the hall.

He knew that he had fucked their relationship. He knew that the words he had used all those years ago had hit her where it hurt… and he regretted the way he had ended their friendship. But the hatred she seemed to have for him was a burning rage that had been stewing for five years and was now finding its way out. When he’d seen her at the awards ceremony he had briefly wanted to reconcile— or at least tell her he was sorry. But every time they spoke she was angry and she threw accusations his way and he had no choice but to defend himself. He was frustrated and wanted nothing more than for the problems between them to disappear.

But right now the only thing that plagued his mind was getting into that car and winning another championship.

Taglist:

@morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @fredweasleyhasadhd @luckyrunawaycheesecake @live-the-fangirl-life @fireheart-violet @charlizeed @scarblx @xo-fangirl-xo @wordsafterhours @jesstargaryenqueen @sailorsassley @sjmships @endlessdaydream @aflickeringsoul @tillyrubes10 @rowaelin-cressworth @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @rowaelinismyotp @rosegoldannie @maryberry @viajandosinalas @becarefuloflove @allthebooksunderthemoon @sheharahu @swankii-art-teacher @superspiritfestival @becarefuloflove @tanvee1231 @viajandosinalas @backtobl4ck @emily-gsh @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @becarefuloflove @goddess-aelin @thegreyj @leiawritesstories @nerdperson524 @rowanaelinn @tothestarsandwhateverend @athena127 @jisco @gracie-rosee @elentiyawhitethorn

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the-messenger-hawk · 7 months

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Royal fam: Sirens addition

(we needed some more wings in this fandom)

Wangnan's siren talents are too underdeveloped, so as yet, his wings are too stunted for flight (this is frequently quite embarrassing for him). But his in-born charisma has more power than he knows.

Karaka, disgusted by his heritage, hides his wings under his armor and his Voice behind a muffler. He'd cast them both away if he could.

The Boss has a Voice able to charm even strangers, but his wings are damaged beyond repair. He will never fly again.

Zahard, as fully realized siren, has the power to create absolute orders. Most who hear his Voice will be completely charmed to obey his every whim, or die in the attempt.

#tower of god #tower of god brainworms #ja wangnan #karaka #zahard #tog the boss #tog wangnan #tog karaka #tog zahard #tog au #tog spoilers

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golden-kingdom · 1 year

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Favorite Crime - Chapter 1

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: There will be eventual sexual explicit scenes and there will be violence and blood in most chapters

Author's note: This is my first chaptered fic so please be easy on me. I'll try to update as often as possible, but I can't promise a schedule. I don't have the whole thing planned yet but I know where I'm going.

Masterlist

Read it on AO3

“Terrassen Senator Aedion Ashryver was officially nominated by the Democratic Party as their candidate for President of Erilea in the upcoming election against incumbent President Maeve Valg. Senator Ashryver is the nephew of President Galathynius who, as we all remember sadly, was assassinated by an unknown shooter in 2007. President Galathynius’s wife, Evalin Ashryver, and their 10-year-old daughter, Aelin, were also killed in the event. It remains one of the worst moments in the history of Erilea. In his speech earlier today, Senator Ashryver emphasized the importance of making Erilea a country where everyone feels safe again…”

Celaena took her turquoise eyes off the TV in front of her and downed the rest of her drink. She was looking for the bartender, she needed another drink, when a man sat down next to her and turned to face her.

“Hi beautiful,” he slurred out.

The man was old enough to be her father. His head, almost completely bald, was shining with sweat. He was looking at her with a salacious gaze, his eyes blurry from all the alcohol he had ingested. The man got closer to her and she could smell his breath reeking of cognac. He tried to grope her, and she was ready to tell him to fuck off and hit him in the balls when a strong hand grabbed the man’s arm.

“Leave her alone,” said a deep male voice in a menacing tone.

The creepy man tried to wriggle his arm out of his grip, but the other man wasn’t budging.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he said, trying to sound threatening, but failing.

“I’m her boyfriend. I suggest you leave this bar and never try this again,” the man behind Celaena growled.

The disgusting old man took a step backward, almost tripping on his own feet. He grabbed his jacket and stumbled out of the bar with a frightened look.

Celaena turned to look at the man who had intervened. He was tall, taller than most people, and she could make out the muscles of his body through his fitted white shirt. He was looking with anger in the direction where the man had just left, his features harsh, but when he turned his deep green eyes towards her, his face softened.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

“I had this under control. But thank you,” Celaena replied, squinting her eyes at the man in front of her.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself when I saw what was happening. I hate those kinds of men,” he explained, looking genuine.

Celaena nodded in understanding. She took in the man in front of her, his silver hair gleaming in the dim light of the bar. He was looking at her with curiosity in his eyes, like he was trying to figure her out. He cleared his throat.

“I’m Rowan,” he said, extending his hand.

“Lillian,” Celaena replied, looking up at him and shaking his large hand. She gave him a charming smile.

“Nice to meet you, Lillian,” he said, holding her hand a bit too long. He dropped it when he realized.

“Can I offer you a drink?” he asked her with a small smile. “As an apology,” he quickly added.

“I have to go, so maybe another time,” Celaena said.

She got closer to him, inhaling his scent of pine and snow, and whispered in his ear.

“I’ll see you around, Rowan.”

She flipped her golden blonde hair over her shoulder, knowing his eyes were on her. She left money on the bar for her drink and headed towards the door, looking back at Rowan, who was still sat on the stool at the bar with his gaze on her. She threw him a wink before leaving.

When she was outside, she smiled to herself.

…

When Celaena arrived at her apartment, she noticed a faint light beneath the door. She reached for the gun in her bag and listened for a few seconds. There weren’t any noise coming from inside. She switched the safety off and held her gun ready to fire. She unlocked the door quietly and, in one swift move, entered the place. There was someone sitting in her living room and she was aiming at their head, ready to shoot, when they turned around.

“Hello darling,” a voice she knew too well drawled.

She pulled down her gun, annoyed.

“I told you not to do this, Arobynn,” she said, putting her gun and her bag on the counter and removing her stilettos.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” asked the auburn-haired man in a sarcastic tone.

“Not when you come into my apartment unannounced when I’m not there,” she replied curtly.

“Need I remind you who this apartment belongs to?” Arobynn said, his face passive, but his gray eyes filled with threat.

“I need to shower and go to bed. Did you need anything?” Celaena asked, impatient.

“Can’t I just come and see my favorite assassin for no reason?” he said with a smirk. “Tell me. How was your night, Celaena?”

“Fine,” she said, too tired to play this game.

“I told you to stay away from Whitethorn,” he said, not playing anymore. His eyes were gleaming with rage.

Celaena stopped in her tracks, composing her face, and looked at her boss.

“I just wanted to see what kind of man I’m going against with,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

Arobynn stood up from his seat and walked up to her.

“You disobeyed me,” he said, his voice filled with violence.

Celaena didn’t see the slap coming, but she definitely felt it. She put her hand on her cheek where he had hit her, trying to contain her anger.

“You know what happens when you disobey me,” Arobynn told her. “Don’t do it again.”

Celaena didn’t say a word. She didn’t trust herself not to say something that would put her into more trouble. She gritted her teeth.

“But this isn’t why I’m here…” Arobynn said, his voice going back to normal in an instant. “I have a new target for you.”

Arobynn handed her a folder and she opened it, looking at the details inside thoughtfully.

“It must be done tonight,” he added in a firm tone.

She was about to protest, her bed was calling her, but she remembered who she was dealing with.

“It will be done,” she replied.

“Good,” he simply said before leaving as quietly as he had come in.

Celaena headed to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Her cheek was red and she probably would have a small bruise, but she had dealt with worse. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her anger, and went to her bedroom.

She unlocked the door to her walk-in closet with a magnetic card and walked inside. She strode past her designer clothes and accessories and went straight to the back. She grabbed a black outfit from the rack where dozens of the same dark clothes were hung.

When she was done changing, she turned around and looked at her stack of weapons. The whole wall was covered with guns, daggers and all kind of tools that helped her accomplish her missions. She grabbed her favorite dagger, holstering it around her thigh, and a gun in case anything went wrong. But nothing ever went wrong, she was the best and she knew it. Putting on her hood to hide her face, she went out into the night.

…

His phone started ringing loudly and Rowan woke up, cursing whoever was calling him. He looked at the clock. 5:30 am. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. He grabbed his phone and replied.

“Yes?”

“It’s Salavaterre. We need you on a crime scene.”

“It couldn’t wait until I got to the office in a few hours?” he complained.

“It’s her,” Lorcan said, and Rowan instantly sat up in his bed, now wide awake.

His boss didn’t need to specify who he was talking about.

“I’m on my way. Text me the address.”

Rowan got dressed quickly, grabbing his gun and his badge. Half an hour later, he was parking next to the address he had been sent. There were police cars all around the building. He showed his badge to a police officer and was let inside. The building he walked into was a luxurious one in the richer part of the town. He passed the empty reception and headed straight to the elevator. When he got to the eight floor, he was met with tons of people milling around. He spotted his boss and walked up to him.

“Follow me,” Lorcan simply said.

They passed under the yellow tape the police had put around the crime scene and stopped next to the body of man in his fifties. He had clearly been dead for a few hours. There was blood on the floor coming from where his throat had been slashed viciously.

“Who is he?” Rowan asked, examining the body.

“Erawan Perrington. He was a big-shot lawyer who tended to associate with the wrong kind of people.”

Rowan looked at the crime scene, taking in the details. There were no signs of fighting, the man probably had been taken by surprise and didn’t have the time to do anything before he was murdered. The slash in his throat was deep and straight, like the person who made it didn’t hesitate even for one second. He didn’t have to ask but he knew there would be no fingerprints or DNA anywhere, and that the lock would have been picked.

Rowan put on his gloves and picked up the small piece of paper next to the body. He knew this sign all too well, The Guild’s signature. He put it back where it had been and left without saying a word.

He got back in his car and drove to the FBI headquarters in Rifthold. When he entered the place, he gave a brief smile to the young man at the security who let him pass. He took the elevator the third floor and headed to his office.

He sat down at his desk, quickly opening the first drawer and picking up a thick file folder with “confidential” written in red capital letters on it. He opened it.

Alias: Celaena Sadorthien

Name: Unknown

Date of birth: Between 1990 and 2005

Sex: Female

Employment: Unknown

Address: Unknown

Affiliation: The Guild (see report TG274576)

Physical description: Unknown

Offense(s):

First degree murder of Archer Finn (see case AF588676)

First degree murder of Bill Chastain (see case BC648753)

First degree murder of Ned Clement (see case NC879479)

First degree murder of Cain King (see case CK7663563)

First degree murder of Grave Brown (see case GB789648)

First degree murder of Kaltain Rompier (see case KR783645)

And the list went on and on…

Rowan pinched the bridge of his nose and closed the file. He had been tasked with apprehending Rifthold’s most prominent assassin for six months now. Nobody knew anything about her, it was as if she was a ghost. But Rowan knew all too well how real she was and what she had done. This woman was violent psychopath with no remorse and a taste for blood. She was a threat to this city and to the country. He would find her and put her behind bars, no matter what it took.

…

Mayor Dorian Havilliard approached the podium set up in front of a group of journalists. He cleared his throat and leaned into the mic.

“I am here to address the recent murders that have happened in this city and the rise of criminality,” he started, quickly interrupted by an eager journalist at the front.

“Mr. Havilliard, do we know who is behind the murder of Attorney Perrington?”

Dorian took the time to look at his press assistant to see how much he was allowed to divulge to the public. He turned back to face the journalists.

“While I am not allowed to reveal any name, the FBI has a suspect in their sights. They are working very hard to apprehend this person,” he replied with a reassuring tone.

“Is anyone safe in Rifthold? What are you going to do about it?”

“This why I’m here today. The city is working hand in hand with FBI agents and the RHPD to make Rifthold safe again for everyone. I can guarantee you that it will be handled quickly and that the people who are guilty of those crimes will be arrested soon. You do not have to worry. We have the best people working on this. You can sleep soundly at night knowing our streets are protected,” he replied, giving everyone his best charming smile.

Every journalist started speaking at the same time. Dorian was quickly ushered out of the room. In the next room, councillor Chaol Westfall was waiting for him.

“Do you know if there are any new elements to the murder cases?” the mayor asked him, worry on his face.

“The FBI has a team headed by one of the best, special agent Salvaterre, who is working day and night to arrest the people behind it,” Chaol replied.

“Well, they need to be faster. It has been going on for too long. Everyone is on high alert every day and it won’t be long before citizens start panicking. There needs to be some order restored to this city. President Valg is putting a lot of pressure on me to work this out,” Dorian said with a long sigh.

“Dor, it will be okay. Like you said, we have the best people working on this. It’s not like you can go out there and catch those criminals yourself. You need to let the FBI do his job. And stop worrying so much, you don’t want to look like your father in 10 years,” Chaol said with a mischievous smile.

“Please don’t ever compare me to my father again, Chaol,” Dorian said, disgust in his face.

His friend laughed and patted Dorian on the back.

“Come on. We have a meeting in 15 minutes.”

…

“Wow, I wouldn’t want to be the one who pissed you off,” said Lysandra with a bright laugh, entering the gym in The Guild’s manor. Celaena didn’t live there anymore, but she liked to come to work out in peace.

Celaena gave one last punch to the punching bag she was pounding into and turned towards her friend.

“Who said someone pissed me off?” she asked, taking a sip from her water bottle and wiping the sweat off her forehead.

“The look on your face and the way you are demolishing that poor punching bag,” Lysandra replied, implacable.

Celaena ignored her and started training again. She loved kickboxing, it was her favorite way to clear her mind. And the fact that it kept her body in shape so she could feel sexy in her skin-tight outfits wasn’t a bad thing either.

“What happened to your face?” Lysandra asked suddenly, worry on her beautiful face.

“Nothing,” Celaena replied, kicking with all her strength.

“Did he hit you again?” Lysandra asked, disapproval in her tone.

Celaena didn’t reply, she just kept on offloading her anger on the punching bag. Lysandra knew her too well. And she knew how Arobynn was. Her friend had been on the receiving hand of their boss’ violence before.

“What did you do this time?” the dark-haired woman asked instead.

Celaena finally stopped and sat down on the bench next to her friend. She removed the wraps around her hands, ignoring her bloody knuckles.

“I went to see Whitethorn,” she finally replied. “I wanted to know what kind of man I was up against.”

If Lysandra was shocked by Celaena’s actions, she didn’t let it show.

“And?” her friend said, trying to get her to say more. “How is he?”

“He’s nothing special. Just another cop who thinks he’s better than me,” she simply said, ready to move on to another conversation.

But Lysandra wasn’t having it. She looked at Celaena with a playful smile on her face.

“I wouldn’t say he’s nothing special… I’ve seen pictures of him, that man is definitely something. A filthy cop he is, but he’s hot as hell.”

Celaena snorted at that.

“He’s not my type. I’m not into Government bootlickers who think they are holier than thou,” she deadpanned.

“If you say so…” Lysandra replied mischievously.

Celaena got up, she didn’t need to hear any more of her friend’s insinuations. She grabbed her things quickly, ready to leave.

“Arobynn wants to see you in his office,” Lysandra finally said.

“Alright. I’ll just get cleaned up and change first.”

“Don’t make him wait, you know how much he hates that,” her friend added before leaving.

Yes, she knew exactly how much Arobynn hated to wait. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

...

Tag list:

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@morganofthewildfire

@leiawritesstories

@fireheart-violet

@autumnbabylon

@swankii-art-teacher

@violet-mermaid7

@goldryngalathynius

@ladyofterrasen

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queen-of-badomens · 1 year

Text

For @morvith ! Happy CSH Winter exchange!

AU of werewolf!Joe and modern knight!Nicky

#the old guard #tog au #the old guard au #joe x nicky #tog fanart #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #the old guard fanart #immortal husbands #kaysanova #tog #joenicky #yusuf x nicolo #my art #csh winter exchange 2022 #werewolf joe #knight Nicky #dramatic posing haha

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leiawritesstories · 1 year

Text

Queen of the Seven Kingdoms

Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmm........hi

this obviously is not the promised/anticipated FTBF update, but instead is something completely different! because my brain is just Like That! anyway, here, have this little something that i don't entirely know what to do with so i'm just gonna leave it here.

word count: ~2.5k

enjoy!

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

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was completely and utterly petrified.

She rested one elegant hand on the smooth, polished marble railing and stared out over the gently rippling waters of the Great Ocean, eyes closed, feeling the early-evening breeze waft across her face. She'd only been standing like that for a moment before booted footsteps clicked on the tiled flooring behind her and a man's voice broke into her reverie.

"Ah, there you are, little cousin." Aedion Ashryver, her cousin who was three years her senior and absolutely insufferable about it, strolled through the delicate curtains, coming to stand by her side. "Have you been hiding away up here this whole time?"

Aelin rolled her eyes. "I do not hide away, Aedy." The deliberate use of his childhood nickname aimed to irritate.

The prince huffed. "Then what do you call it when you conveniently forget to make an appearance for our guests?"

"You neither needed nor wanted me at that men's meeting," she returned coolly. "I simply did you the favor of not interrupting."

"Bullshit," Aedion muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This is your future we are talking about, Aelin, you do know that?"

"My future is all I ever hear about," she scoffed. "At least do me the favor of flattering my intelligence and call it what it is--the next step in your scheme to retake the throne."

Aedion wrapped his hand around her bared bicep, turning her to face him. "Fine." His eyes, the turquoise hue twin to her own, bored into hers. "Your marriage to Prince Whitethorn is a key step in our journey to reclaim our rightful throne. Understood?"

"Kind of you to refer to it as ours," she snorted. "Aedion, we have been in Wendlyn for ten years, and now you decide that this is the time?"

He sighed heavily. "I cannot expect--"

"If you finish that sentence, I will personally tear off your ears and stuff them down your throat," Aelin snapped. "Do remind me who insisted that I be by your side at all important meetings since the day Galan took us in?"

Aedion had the grace to flush slightly. "All right, I won't be an ass."

"Too late for that."

He poked her shoulder. "Please, Aelin, I...I don't want to force you to anything any more than you want to be forced."

"Yet clearly, that want only goes so far." Freeing herself from his halfhearted grasp, she took a step back, rooting herself in the last embers of the falling sun's warmth. "Tell me, Aed--when the Whitethorns approached you offering their armada in exchange for my hand, how long did it take you to cave?"

His face shuttered. "Good night, Aelin." Spinning sharply on his heel, he stalked out of her rooms, the rapid click of his bootheels indicating his muffled ire.

"Aed--"

"Don't." The soft warning sounded off to the left.

Aelin turned, her right hand straying towards the slender knife she kept strapped to her upper thigh, the steel politely hidden by her gauzy skirts. "Who's there?"

"Just me." Philippa, who had been Aelin's lady's maid since she came to Wendlyn, emerged from the door to the bathing room. "Your cousin will come to his senses; he just needs to see it."

Aelin sighed and tugged the pins from her hair, letting the soft blonde waves cascade down her back. "If he'd only been open about this visit being a marriage negotiation, I wouldn't have such a problem with the whole thing." She yanked the ties of her dress, allowing the sheer layers of fabric to fall loose on her frame as she entered the bathing room. "I knew I would not get to decide the time of my marriage, but..."

Philippa's motherly face softened in sympathy. "But you deserve more than an order, Highness."

"Don't call me that," Aelin mumbled, stepping gracefully out of her dress. "How many times do I have to tell you, just call me Aelin?"

"At least once more, my lady," Philippa teased.

Grumbling, Aelin stepped into the huge, sunken tub--really, it was more of a pool--wincing slightly at the faint twinge of pain when the hot water hit the scars clawing across her back. After four years carrying the marks, she thought she'd be used to the faint hints of pain that still cropped up.

She was not.

Drawing in a deep inhale, Aelin submerged herself into the bath's scalding embrace, closing her eyes against the water. Odd as it may seem, she'd never been bothered by the heat, instead finding it comforting--even when others would not even be able to get into the tub until it had been tempered with cooler water. She allowed herself exactly sixty seconds to luxuriate beneath the bath's surface before standing up, steaming water cascading off of her body, and settling down on a step.

As her lady's maid helped her bathe, Aelin once again let her gaze drift out the windows, watching the Great Ocean shift and stir under the darkening sky. Watching the ripples and crests of the waves.

Looking east, back towards the seven kingdoms that were her right to reclaim.

It was far too godsdamned early for this nonsense.

Prince Rowan Whitethorn shifted in his saddle, pressing a soothing hand to his horse's neck. Shh, Chiri, we will ride soon. He didn't know why the hell Aedion Ashryver had requested this...business to happen at the crack of dawn, but a promise was a promise.

And, if he was being completely honest, Rowan didn't think he would mind if his first sight of Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was something of a bleary memory, given the early hour.

Arranged marriage tended to do that to a person.

Conceptually, Rowan completely understood and even agreed with the rationale. Doranelle and the Whitethorn clan were ancient, powerful, and filthy rich--just what the last two living Ashryvers needed to back their claim to the Erilean throne. And the Ashryvers were no struggling pair, either. The two cousins might have been the last of their line, but they brought the legendary power of the Ashryver-Galathynius line--the dynasty even older than the Whitethorns and rumored to have dormant fire magic sleeping in its veins. And a rather staggering fortune squirreled away in foreign banks.

So, when Aedion and Galan Ashryver had reached out to Ellys a few months ago, it had taken Rowan's lovely (if somewhat rash) uncle all of ten minutes to decide that he was going to send Rowan off to marry the foreign princess. Of course, he sent a full contingent of Whitethorn family, warriors, and personnel along, but Rowan knew that if Ellys had ordered him to go alone, he would have gone alone.

After all, he was the Whitethorn prince--maybe he wasn't the head of the clan, but he was the head of the army. And that certainly counted for something.

Resisting the urge to glance at the rising sun for some hint of the time, Rowan muffled a yawn.

To his right, his cousin Endymion coughed quietly. "You could at least pretend to be happy on your betrothal day."

"Piss off," Rowan grumbled.

Enda smirked. "Where's the grinning groom?"

"He'd be grinning a whole lot more if this whole damn business wasn't so...contractual." Rowan frowned. "It's not like I don't understand why this has to happen, I'd just rather not have it all so suddenly."

"Right." Enda offered a small, crooked half-grin of condolence. "The princess is probably in the same position, y'know. Maybe you'll find some consolation in that."

"Always with the optimism," Rowan grunted.

Enda beamed. "Much better outlook than your infernal grouchiness."

"Why don't you--oh." All the breath suddenly and unexpectedly rushed out of Rowan's lungs, his calculating emerald gaze trained on the stone stairs in front of the Whitethorn contingent.

Where a golden-haired woman who looked eerily like the female version of Aedion Ashryver was descending the stairs, her expression carefully placid, her sharp turquoise eyes trained onto Rowan.

Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius.

His...his fiancée.

With Aedion and a handful of guards and staff at her back, Aelin strode down the stone steps with all the royal confidence of her ancient bloodline, stopping a pace away from him. Rowan found himself mildly shocked at how small she appeared from his perch atop Chiri. Her stature, though, was no match for the fire blazing in her sea-glass eyes.

Finding himself unable to speak, Rowan simply nudged his horse slightly forwards, locking his eyes onto the princess's. There was a long, rather tense, beat of silence.

Then he reached down, swung Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius up into his saddle, settling her in front of him, wheeled Chiri about, and galloped down the drive in a cloud of dust and gravel.

Aedion blinked. "That went...well?"

Enda chuckled. "If Rowan had decided he didn't approve of the princess, we would know. Trust me, Ashryver."

"Why do I find that concerning?" Aedion muttered. He tipped his head at the contingent behind him.

"Let's go."

Aelin's brain still hadn't caught up with the fact that she was currently sitting in the same saddle as Prince Rowan Whitethorn of Doranelle, the famed warrior-prince of Wendlyn. Or that he'd been remarkably gentle despite the brute force of the way he swung her up into his saddle.

Or that she was going to be married to him at sundown.

Rowan reined in his stallion at the edge of Galan's grounds. "We can wait for the others to catch up," he said, the deep rumble of his voice surprising her.

"So you're not the kind to run off with your bride, then?" Aelin snarked, the barbed comment slipping out before she could think twice about it.

Rowan's eyes widened--in shock or outrage or interest, she couldn't tell. "No."

"Mmm." She tilted her head. "I thought a warrior prince would be more interesting."

He pressed his lips together, definitely trying not to snort. "Are you implying that you wanted your betrothed to run off with you?"

Just like that, reality slammed into her. "Right. Betrothed."

The prince--gods, no, this was not the time to start thinking about his admittedly rather attractive appearance--loosed a soft, short sigh. "Does it feel like a business contract to you, too?"

For some reason she couldn't name, she decided to be honest. "I'm a princess, Prince. My marriage was always going to be little more than a business contract."

"Call me Rowan," he responded, and Aelin nearly laughed.

"Rowan, then," she offered, rolling his name on her tongue. "All right, but only if you call me Aelin."

"Aelin." He pronounced her name with such care, the syllables flowing with the dips of his accent. "I...I can't honestly say I expected the betrothal process to go like this."

"But here we are," she mumbled.

"Here we are," he agreed. "And--"

And then Enda, Aedion, and the rest of the contingent appeared, and whatever conversation might have been beginning was abruptly cut short.

The actual marriage ceremony itself was short and simple and something of a blur. Aelin didn't quite remember repeating the priestess's words, didn't quite remember the sash tied around her and Rowan's hands, binding the two together. She didn't quite remember the following feast, barely even tasted the rich array of foods laid out before her. She twisted the plain gold band around her left ring finger, wondering how something so small and simple could possibly represent something so wholly life-altering.

As the sun began to descend, Philippa and a Whitethorn woman came to Aelin's sides and led her away from the feast to a private tent, where they helped her out of her ornate wedding gown and into a sheer, flowing nightgown. They loosed her hair from its complicated braids, allowing the golden waves to spill down her back unfettered, and took all her jewelry except her wedding band and the delicate golden necklace she always wore.

They led her out to a waiting horse and cart and handed her into the seat, murmuring quiet goodbyes and good wishes and reminders that she could just close her eyes and let her mind roam. Then the driver nudged the horse into motion, and Aelin was taken away.

She was dropped off near a rock outcropping with an absolutely stunning view of the Great Ocean. It was to that view that she turned, sighing faintly at the caress of the sun's fading warmth, letting her eyes drift over the blaze of colors painting the sunset sky. She closed her eyes and felt the evening breeze kiss her skin and lift her hair, rooting herself in the peace of that moment.

Once again, footsteps behind her broke into her peace. This time, though, the footsteps were her husband's.

Rowan stopped a pace or two away from her, his jaw slightly agape as he drank in the sight of her. In the fading sunlight, the long silvery strands of his braid glinted golden, a few stray ones loose and waving in the breeze, framing the sharp angular planes of his face. "Aelin," he whispered, her name a caress.

She turned to face him, showing down the fear that welled up within her. Not fast enough, though, because the flicker that crossed his face told her he'd seen it.

"I won't."

She blinked. "What?"

He raised his hands, palms up. "Unless and until you tell me to, I won't touch you, Aelin."

A surge of deep gratitude swept over her. "Thank you, Rowan," she whispered, suddenly finding the man attractive in more ways than just his appearance.

A tiny smile flicked across his face. "I have a gift for you."

She raised a brow. "Oh?"

He nodded. "Come here." He held out a hand. Aelin slipped her hand into his, something sparking in her blood at the feel of his large, warm, calloused hand wrapped around hers. He led her down the ledge to where his horse and another mare were hobbled, led her up to the mare's side. "Her name is Kasida."

"Rowan," Aelin breathed, incredulous. "An Asterion?"

Her husband's lips quirked upwards. "The Whitethorn clan has something of a fondness for rare breeds of horses; there are several Asterion mares and a few stallions in our stables." He tugged the end of his braid, a little nervously. "I...thought Kasida would be a proper gift for my wife. For the Ashryver and Galathynius heiress."

Aelin's heart fluttered at his thoughtfulness, his sincerity. Almost before she registered it, she rose up onto her toes and pecked a kiss against Rowan's cheek. "She's beautiful."

Rowan's tiny smile grew, curling his lips further upwards. "Here," he murmured. "Let me help you up." Cupping his hands, he boosted Aelin into the saddle, then smoothly mounted his stallion. "Ready?"

Once she'd adjusted herself in the saddle, Aelin nodded. "I am."

And together, the Prince of Doranelle and the heir to the Ashryver-Galathynius dynasty galloped off into the night.

~~~

A/N: most of this scene and concept comes from the first season of Game of Thrones, with some alterations for the TOG characters and world.

TAGS: please lmk if you want to be added/removed!

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

#my writing #throne of glass #tog au #got au #because...brain be like that #also you canNOT convince me the ashryvers aren't the targaryens #it's just the truth #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #aedion ashryver

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zairaalbereo · 10 months

Text

Room for Love — Part 2

Find all pages of Room for Love on tumblr

Read it all on Ao3

And then they were flat mates! 🥳

If you’re wondering how short of a comic this will be: Estimates are at 15+ pages. I have drawn/sketched nine so far. 😳 So thank you to everyone who’s been so encouraging! 💗

#the old guard #tog fanart #room for love comic #tog au #joe/nicky #joe x nicky #kaysanova #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #artist joe #webcomic #my comic #my art

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mariaofdoranelle · 1 year

Text

Faking Yulemas — Part 4: Dear Santa… I Can Explain

For 12 Days of Rowaelin

Prompt: Yulemas Lights

Fic masterlist

I know it’s very rude of me to only post this now, I promise I was not planning to wait that long. I hope you have fun with this fic’s closure!

Warnings: NSFW, language, drinking, mentions of inappropriate intimate tattoos

Word count: 5,5k (oops?)

“Tell me about your parents.”

Rowan hummed, thoughtful. “Dad’s a pretty laid-back guy, but mom keeps him in line. She’s the strict one, I take after her.” A tilt of his head. “I once read online that’s reason why I overthink, but I don’t think they traumatized me that much. Just the normal amount.” He looked at her dead in the eye. “I definitely don’t have daddy issues.”

Chuckling, Aelin elbowed his side. “You’re not helping.”

He deftly gripped her attacking elbow and stroked it with his thumb, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite decipher. “You don’t need to think too hard on it, they’ll be mushy just by knowing you drove all the way here to buy them something.”

Aelin sighed and nodded. She didn’t prepare that much back in Doranelle to this, but now that she’d met the Whitethorns, she wanted to get them a Yulemas present. The hardest part was buying something nice on Yulemas Eve Eve that would fit her student budget, but she’d manage.

Their excuse to come downtown Mistward was so Aelin could get to know the city, and it wasn’t that much of a lie. With streets filled with stores decorated for the holidays, it was a sight. There were people going in all directions, probably late with the gift shopping too. There was also a Santa on a white, wheeled vehicle pulled by a horse that was going around the shopping area. She assumed it was supposed to be Santa Claus in a one horse open sleigh, but she decided to not pick on this poor attempt at Santa. Let them live their inaccurate holiday joy.

“Are you sure you’re not cold?” Rowan gave her a pointed look. “I can get that extra jacket on the car.”

Aelin looked down at her red sundress that had an open back and spaghetti straps, frowning. She was fine. Not one arm hair out of place. In the meanwhile, he was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and pants, and she also didn’t miss how his Adam’s apple bobbed before his eyes snapped back to hers.

Interesting.

“Remind me to never take you to Terrasen in the winter,” she snickered. God, Rowan wouldn’t survive a day in knee-deep snow.

His eyes lit up. “That means you’ll take me there in the summer, then?”

“I need enough money to get back there myself first.” Aelin walked ahead of him a little, towards a storefront, so he wouldn’t see her flush. That really sounded like an invitation, didn’t it? And she hoped what she’d just said didn’t sound too much like a dismissal. Truth was, she was confused.

They were fake dating, that was a fact. However, her feelings about Rowan changed a lot since her first day in Mistward. They settled the deal before those piano lessons together. And getting acquainted with his family. Watching him drag Enda’s kids on a sled with the mower did its trick too. And honestly? Aelin wasn’t above the emotional consequences of cuddling at night.

She took a deep breath and stopped pretending that storefroent was interesting, focusing back on Rowan.

He was gazing at her already, a soft look on his eyes.

She was so screwed.

˜˜

After finding a nice gift for his parents, Rowan insisted on having dinner at this fancy pasta place.

The best part of it? The wine.

Aelin was currently explaining to Rowan what only three people in the world knew: the complete chain of events that led her to start a dating hiatus.

“It’s hard to find so many suitable one-night stands, but I had just broken up with Chaol, so I wanted something casually serious. So this guy, Sam… well, he made a family on The Sims with me.”

Rowan frowned. “That’s creepy.”

She sighed. “I know, but I thought it was cute at the time. Anyway. Since we were already married on his game, you’d think he wanted something serious, right?”

He tilted his head. “Right…”

“Wrong!” Aelin yelled, and then looked around, giggling and a bit embarrassed. This wasn’t the kind of restaurant it was okay to be screaming at, but she was blaming the wine. “When I mentioned that we were in a situationship, he said the label was too much.” Sweeping her arms, she forgot once more about keeping a low profile.

Rowan was quietly chuckling at her antics when the food came.

Could it even be called food?

The plate itself reminded her of a Victorian hat with a particularly wide brim. Only for the ladies who liked to be a little extra. She could even imagine some lady called Edith or Cecily pulling this off effortlessly. The border of the plate went for what felt like miles, and after a lot of what seemed like a waste of space in a dishwasher, there was a small depression. The bottom and center of the plate had a small portion of spaghetti cocooned, as wide as her palm if she was lucky.

Looking at Rowan, he seemed to be at loss too. Aelin didn’t know much about his dining habits, but she knew damn well that a portion that size wasn’t enough to grow the kind of muscles he had. Finally looking at her in the eye, he seemed to apologize with his own when she shook her head and smiled. She wasn’t going to complain about being brought to a nice date in a fancy restaurant downtown.

Wait.

Was this a date?

“So Sam was the final nail in the coffin?” Rowan prompted, wanting to know which date was bad enough to make her want to go celibate for a year.

“No, that would be Archer.” He sat back and sipped his wine, waiting. Aelin took a deep breath, steeling herself. “He would always ask me when I’d give him a chance, but I never took him seriously. He was just that kind of guy no one takes seriously, but the bar was so low that I did.”

“It’s really hard to believe that you, of all people, were struggling so much to date.”

Aelin just groaned in response.

“Anyway,” she continued, “The date was fun, and I think he even put in some effort… for his standards. The problem was his tattoo.”

Aelin didn’t miss the way Rowan quickly glanced at his tattooed arm while she said it.

“He had an intimate tattoo,” she explained, followed by a dramatic pause. “Of Pinocchio.”

Rowan blinked, then his eyes slowly widened with the realization of what she was implying, and he seemed to be so surprised they spoke at the same time:

“Please don’t tell me the nose was—”

“And Pinocchio’s nose was—”

Aelin somberly nodded.

Rowan took a sip of his wine. “But did you…” He cleared his throat. “Did you?”

She gaped. “I would never sit on Pinocchio’s nose.”

He nodded, looked at his food and took a swig of his wine before resuming his dinner. Aelin wondered if she ruined it by mentioning another man’s dick tat, but he looked up at her with a resolved look on his face.

“You do realize that the amount of guys with inappropriate tattoos or virtual families with you isn’t that big, right?”

Aelin didn’t like his tone. She leaned away from Rowan on her chair and asked a little too defensive, “Your point is?”

Truth was, Aelin didn’t get that much annoyed when people would question her dating hiatus. She’d usually just wait until their speech was over and let it go. But for some reason, all those speeches she shrugged off for months were coming back to haunt her during this vacation. Did she give up too soon? Was she wasting her youth on this? Having her celibacy questioned by Rowan struck a nerve, Aelin just had to find out why.

“Sometimes people are so focused on what’s happening directly to them, they forget to look around for better options.”

Her mouth opened and closed before she found the words “I did look around! The view was terrible.”

Scratching the back of his neck, Rowan tried to rephrase it. “I was actually telling you to consider possibilities you haven’t thought of before.”

“You’re telling me to try girls?” Her mouth fell open. It wasn’t a bad idea, she just wasn’t expecting that suggestion.

Looking tired from trying to explain himself, Rowan sighed. “When’s your hiatus ending?”

“On March 3rd.”

He sipped his wine. “Noted.”

Aelin blinked. “What?”

She would not think too much on this. She would not think about this while holding him tonight.

He leaned back on his seat and shrugged. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

˜˜

Rowan was motionless, staring at the car like he was reading its soul. Or like someone had just dropped the keys in the river and he stood there, watching it fall into the bottom. Considering it was Rowan, any other thing would make it easier to drive than the situation they were currently in.

Drunk.

Actually, they weren’t drunk. Tipsy sounds more fitting. Maybe somewhere between these two?

Aelin checked her watch. There was still time to catch a train. Maeve’s house had a really difficult access, though, so she’d need someone to pick them up at the station.

“I’m calling Sellene,” Aelin broke the silence.

That was enough to make Rowan fall out of his trance. “Absolutely not!” He ran a hand through his head. “She’ll mock us to death.”

Aelin’s smile was so big she could swear the corners of Rowan’s mouth tilted up. “She’ll mock you to death! Sel loves me.”

Sellene answered the phone before Rowan could make an argument out of this.

“What the fuck are you two still doing downtown?” Her friend’s voice boomed before anyone could even say hello.

“Honey, langua— oh, hi, Aelin!” Uncle Ellys showed up smiling behind Sellene.

Aelin quickly explained their drunken situation and asked her to pick them up at the train station closest to the family’s house, and Rowan stayed curiously silent the whole time. It probably had something to do with the mischievous glint that grew in Sellene’s eyes every sentence, which reached its peak when Uncle Ellys furrowed his eyebrows and suggested, “Why don’t you two stay at a hotel and drive back in the morning? That way no one needs to get the car back on Yulemas Eve.”

Sel’s smile was so big she looked like a maniac. “That’s a great idea, dad!”

The little bitch.

She knew damn well Aelin wasn’t actually dating Rowan.

This was going to be so awkward.

Rowan cleared his throat. “I’m not sure this is a good—“

“I think it’s perfect, Ro.”

He continued, glaring this time. “I didn’t bring anything to spend the night. I have no clothes, no toiletries—“

“Good to know we’ve got it settled then!” Unaffected, Sellene’s grin was so smug it was annoying. “If it isn’t my favorite couple.”

Ellys frowned. “I thought it was Marceline and Princess Bubblegum, Dear.”

“I guess you’re right.” She let out a dramatic sigh. “Anyway, bye!” Sellene sing-sang.

”Sellene, don’t—“ Rowan shouted, but it was too late.

She had already hung up on them.

Rowan sighed, and Aelin pocketed her phone, leaning her back in the car to think. They were already sharing a bed anyway, staying at a hotel for the night wouldn’t be that bad. It’d be almost the same, right?

Rowan didn’t think so, apparently.

“I’m gonna try my parents,” he finally said.

“Okay.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“But don’t you think it’s weird?” Aelin said before he hit the call button.

His thumb hovered above the screen for a moment, then he carefully asked, “What would be weird?”

“Refusing to spend the night away. We’re supposed to be dating, remember?”

He locked his phone and leaned on the car as well, arms crossed. “I’d never spend the night with my girlfriend without clean clothes and a toothbrush.”

“The only one you’d need out of those two is very easy to buy,” she snickered. “Besides, you can’t ask your mom to rescue you. You should be flattered for the opportunity to spend the night with me.”

“I am.”

The yellow streetlights didn’t help, but Aelin could see Rowan’s cheeks turning a shade pinker. Cute, she marveled.

“Besides,” he continued, “We usually need all hands on deck during Yulemas Eve. I’ll waste too much time coming back here tomorrow to get the car.”

She tilted her head. “It’ll be a nuisance.”

“A big one.”

Aelin grinned. “And we can’t let that happen.”

He shook his head, lips tugging up. “Absolutely not.”

“So which hotel are we picking?”

“The closest one.”

Her shoulders dropped. “Oh. Sure.”

Rowan was a practical person. Of course he’d pick the closest one. And there was no reason for her to hope for another hotel, since this decision had been purely practical.

Something about her expression gave her away. He bumped her shoulder. “I’m open to suggestions, though.”

“I don’t have suggestions, I’ve never been here.” She bumped his shoulder back. “I just thought we were choosing together, that’s all.”

He raised his eyebrows, silently asking her to continue.

“For example, I like it when they have those huge breakfast buffets. With…” she shrugged, a playful grin forming on her lips. “Bread, fruit, yoghurt…”

Rowan crossed his arms, smiling. “Only bread, fruit and yoghurt?”

His teasing hadn’t been that funny, but Aelin cackled anyway. “Well, I’m not gonna complain if they also happen to have cake and chocolate croissant.”

“Okay…” he focused on his phone for a moment, the corners of his lips still crinkling with amusement, then guided them forward by placing a hand on her back. “Google Maps tells me there’s a store close by, and you can tell me what kind of hotels you like while I buy some toiletries to survive the night.”

The small shopping became a little more, and that’s how they ended up in a hotel room’s balcony, a plastic bag with the essentials waiting inside while they ate hot dogs and shared a bottle of wine, no glasses. They blamed this second dinner on the fancy restaurant with miniature portions, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“This hot dog is so much better than the ones I make.”

Rowan held a finger up, asking for a moment while he finished this bite, and asked, “You cook?”

A smirk just for him. “I don’t. That’s why this is better.”

They both chuckled, Rowan’s eyes glinting while he looked at her in such a way that made her question if tonight’s food was upsetting her stomach. She looked away. “I had to learn for Sellene’s birthday, though.”

“That’s right.” He straightened his posture, recognition in his eyes. “You were so busy, I forgot you were in charge of the food too.”

“I was in charge of everything after Sel’s third beer.” She rolled her eyes playfully. Sellene was such a traitorous bitch. Aelin loved her to death. “That’s why I didn’t pay much attention to the guests, I think.”

Also because she was dating Chaol at the time. But dear Mala, it felt like a waste not properly meeting Rowan that day. The longer she got to know him, the strongest she felt about that party and the 11 months that followed suit.

He chugged wine for the longest time that night before he said, “I had intentions of making myself known once you were free.”

Aelin was too distracted by his mouth on that bottle, but her heart stopped when it finally clicked.

“Really?” She looked deep into his eyes, looking for an answer that went beyond his words.

He nodded. “Really.”

She took the bottle from his hand. It was her time to have some wine.

“It would’ve been nice.”

He didn’t need to answer that. And they both also knew what stopped him that day: Aelin’s boyfriend arriving mid-party.

Still, there was no controlling that bubbly, sparkly feeling inside her that only grew the more she thought about that.

Rowan was ready to hit on her when they first met. Isn’t that the most romantic thing?

For some reason, this time Aelin didn’t feel like shying away from whatever was happening. Just let herself feel, even though she was trying really hard to understand those feelings. She didn’t know how to continue this conversation, though.

“I thought I’d never face a hot dog after Sellene’s birthday party,” she added between bites. The amount of research and preparation Aelin did for that night was crazy. She never knew there’s so much to the art of hot dogs.

“They were a little traumatizing, yes.”

“That’s not what I meant!” She chided in mock offense while handing the bottle to that rude fake boyfriend of hers.

“I’m letting you blame the sausage’s bad quality if you want.”

“I don’t know…” Aelin leaned back on her chair. Her research included which ingredients to buy, it’d end up being her fault too. “I kinda became a sausage specialist for that party—“

She was interrupted by the blaring sound of Rowan gagging and heaving. He had a shocked look on his face, widened eyes aimed at her while he clutched the base of his neck. There was a little wine running down his nose and mouth, and that was probably from the choking.

Aelin dropped her things and started gently stroking his shoulders, even though she knew this wouldn’t actually help. She was somewhere between wanting to soothe him and feeling a little embarrassed after accidentaly making a sexual innuendo so bad Rowan almost choked to death. Literally. Would it be selfish to hope his choking didn’t let him notice the flush on her cheeks?

“That’s embarrassing,” he said a few moments later.

Aelin had already a tissue on her hand when she replied, “You know, you look kinda cute with a wine mustache.”

He snorted, and that little gush of air directly on her fingers weirdly sent goosebumps—

No.

This was supposed to be just about Aelin’s imagination running wild because of Rowan’s irresistibleness. There was no way she…

Aelin removed her hand and gazed at at Rowan. His straight nose and cheekbones had a natural glow from the moonlight. His eyes were gleaming while he looked back at her, and something told her it couldn’t be due to any Yulemas lights that twinkled around them. Mistward was beautiful today, but not nearly as much as that reserved man who had fire in his eyes when he looked at her.

There were so many things she felt like doing while looking at him, but at the same time she didn’t want to change anything at all. Aelin wanted to be in this exact moment forever. With him.

Wine out his nose and all.

Something dawned on her, and Aelin’s eyes widened with the realization.

“Oh my God,” she blurted, her eyes slowly searching his.

“What?” Rowan was still a little hazy.

When their gaze finally settled on each other’s, she quietly confided, “I think I like you.”

Aelin would do everything in her possession to never forget how his face slowly lit up as he processed what she’d said, his confused expression giving away space for him to show her a blinding smile.

He didn’t say anything, though.

At first he just cradled her face, tender strokes on her jaw making her head tilt up while he seemed lost somewhere between her eyes and her lips.

Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe?

She could see his tongue‘s quickly appear between his lips, wetting them as their faces slowly came together.

Way too slowly.

Impatient, Aelin cradled his face with both hands and closed the distance at once, pressing their lips together. And as soon as she initiated it, his touch seemed as urgent as hers.

Rowan’s hands roamed through her face, neck, shoulders, until they found her waist and pulled her as close as one physically could, making her fall on his lap. With her neck in his mouth’s direction, Rowan decided to take advantage of that. He pecked, licked and sucked that patch of skin until Aelin was writhing on his thigh, silently begging him for something. Even she didn’t know exactly what.

When Rowan started dragging his teeth along her pulse point with a heavenly amount of pressure, Aelin held his shoulders with both hands, adjusting herself just enough to feel his shaft below her thigh.

He groaned. “We don’t have to.”

His voice was so pained it almost sounded comical. It would be, if Aelin wasn’t as excited as he was.

She pulled his hair, making Rowan’s neck arch towards her. He stared at her with parted lips, a mist of hunger and surrender in his eyes.

“I need to.” Aelin wriggled her hips, pressing against him and making him swallow hard.

He started playing with the hem of her dress, and it took a pointed look for her to process that he was still asking for permission.

“Please.”

Rowan sneaked his hands below her dress until both of his hands were full with her ass, and tugged her towards him hard enough to leave a mark.

And that was when their control snapped.

It became a blur of sinful caresses and bruising, urgent kisses until Rowan picked her up. The six steps from the balcony to the bed were the longest of her life.

Between kisses, he began to fumble with her dress. “What’s up with girls and their difficult clothes?”

“Three ties isn’t too much.” She wasn’t even wearing a bra. Aelin laughed, but it was a bit strained.

“They’re obstacles. It’s annoying,” he said while undoing the straps on her shoulders. And frowned. Aelin bit back her laughter while she turned around, showing the last string on her back. “Too much,” he grunted while untying it.

The feel of those thin strands falling on her back left a trail of goosebumps, or maybe it was just the effect of Rowan’s hands on her, along with the anticipation of what was to come.

She mentioned to turn around, but Rowan’s hands had her pinned, laying on her stomach. He gently brushed her long hair aside and kissed her shoulders and back downwards. He brushed his teeth through Aelin’s ass, biting it softly. Her breath hitched, her hips arching his way.

However, Rowan took her panties off, turned her around and started kissing her inner thigh. When Aelin realized where he was headed, she was already whimpering. He was all teasing kisses and warming her up at first, so she wasn’t expecting it when Rowan pressed his tongue against her clit with the perfect amount of pressure, making her cry out and arch her hips. He didn’t mind her pressing herself against his face, though. Not by the way he grabbed her hips hard enough to bruise and kept her there.

The mix of Rowan’s tongue on her clit, his stubble rubbing against her slit and his hands practically squeezing her hips was going to be the death of her. Aelin was panting with shaky legs, moaning his name. Bursting from the inside out, she was seeing stars every time he applied a bit more pressure.

“Ro, I’m so close.”

He just hummed, not ready to get his mouth off her, and plunged two fingers inside her without further notice.

Aelin screamed.

She shattered completely, becoming nothing more than a mess of limbs, holding every piece of the bed sheet she could and squeezing Rowan’s head between her thighs while waves of pleasure ripped through her.

Rowan was above her in a second, kissing her gently. “You okay?”

“That’s really hard to answer right now,” she answered, panting.

He chuckled, seeming a little wrecked as well. “Wanna stop?”

“Fuck, no.”

She pulled him by the hair for another kiss and began to fumble with his pants. Impatient, Rowan rose to pull out his clothes for once and-

Fuck.

Aelin had always thought Rowan looked as gorgeous as one of those ripped guys from ancient statues, but it wasn’t true. His penis was too big for him to be one of them. What a shame. Actually, not a shame at all for Aelin.

Rowan was staring at her, naked with a condom on his hand, his mouth hanging open somewhere between amused and incredulous.

Wait, did she say that out loud?

To avoid further comment, she kneeled on the bed and wrapped her arms around Rowan, kissing him slowly until he melted into her touch. Without breaking the kiss, Aelin started working on his cock until he couldn’t take it anymore.

When they laid back on the bed, she had never seen a guy put a condom on so fast. To be fair, Aelin was pretty much the same, guiding him towards her entrance as soon as possible.

They started slow, holding on to each other while Rowan pushed into her.

“You feel so fucking good,” he rasped against her ear as he bottomed her out.

Aelin moaned, wiggling her hips in a silent plea for him to move inside her, which he quickly obliged.

She moaned and marked his back with her nails as he thrusted in with an intense pace. They were completely lost in each other. Moaning, whispering sweet nothings, kissing wherever their mouths could reach. Aelin wrapped her legs around him and her muscles tightened, making him suck in a sharp breath and lose composure.

“Are you close?”

Her affirmative answer sounded a lot like a whimper, but he got the message.

Letting out a shaky breath, that chase made him lose the rhythm they previously found, but Rowan sneaked a hand between their bodies and pressed this thumb to Aelin’s clit.

The grip she had on his shoulders tightened. “Fuck, Ro.”

Her breath shattered when she came to the peak of that crescendo, and he seemed just as intoxicated. It was like Rowan was lighting her on fire, and every explosion was a reason for her to call his name. When the feeling of his thumb on her swollen clit and his cock hitting that spot was too much, Aelin’s hips started to tremble and she came undone in his arms, Rowan’s name on her lips the whole time.

Being pushed over the edge as well, Rowan’s hips stuttered and his whole body tensed, right before he seemed to dissolve above her.

He crashed on her side and gave gentle pecks on her face after disposing the condom, both of them still recomposing themselves.

Staring at the ceiling, Aelin was trying to figure if this was because she hadn’t had sex for almost a year, or if Rowan was just that good. She needed to try again to be certain.

He turned to her and cradled Aelin in his arms, giving her a peck in the forehead. Rowan studied her face, looking for something until she looked up at him, her uncertain face slowly giving space to a shy grin.

Aelin adjusted herself on his arms and let him lazily caress her body.

She always suspected sex with Rowan would be good, but dear Mala. It was almost too much, his cock and tongue and fingers wearing her out until she combusted so much she felt she could die in that bed. Well, if Aelin really thought of it, those orgasms were well deserved. She needed them, since she didn’t have her sleeping pills right now. Should she thank Santa? It was probably Yulemas Eve by now.

Aelin let out a happy sigh and Rowan affectionately squeezed her, resting his face on the crown of her head.

She mentally sent Santa a thumbs up, not caring that he doesn’t actually exist or that Rowan didn’t like him as a kid.

There were hands brushing her hair back and stroking her arms.

What a nuisance.

Aelin rolled over to the other side of the bed, trying to fall back into that deep slumber she was in.

The mattress dipped beside her, and the covers Aelin had just placed covering her face were gently pushed aside.

It was going to be one of those days, then.

“I sneaked out some mini chocolate croissant for you.”

Interesting.

“I’m awake,” she mumbled.

Chuckling, Rowan continued to run his fingers through her hair when she sat on the bed, eyes still closed. Aelin leaned into his touch. For Mala’s sake, did that man know how to touch her everywhere?

His fingers brushed against her lower lip. “Want some?”

When Aelin closed her mouth with the mini croissant Rowan put there, it was a delicious explosion of butter, chocolate and that delicious crackling crust flooding her senses. Her shoulders dropped and she moaned, overwhelmed by pastry heaven.

Rowan’s hand on her hair stilled, so Aelin finally had reason enough to open her eyes. How dare he stop? Aelin rubbed her eyes and cracked them open to complain, only to see Rowan staring at her with darkened eyes and parted lips.

Well, that was one look to wake her up with. Smirking, she let her covers drop just a little. Just to tease him, since he knew damn well she had nothing underneath.

Before she could think, Rowan was face to face with her on the bed. “You know, we have a few hours between breakfast and check-out time.” He dropped kisses on her jaw and neck, a sweet invite to continue last night’s activity.

Aelin started looking for her clothes on the floor, but she found them folded on the chair. So organized. Her boyfri-

Oh, fuck.

They needed to talk, didn’t they?

Aelin grabbed her things and locked herself in the bathroom. Her mind was going a mile a minute.

During her shower, she wondered about the broken promise of her year-long celibacy. Well, being tore apart by Rowan was much cooler than that. But what was supposed to happen now?

Aelin stared at herself in the mirror while she brushed her teeth. Was it a one-time thing? She’d stay with his family for at least one more week, would she manage to stay away from him? Would she want to stay away from him? No probably not.

God, her hair was a mess. And she didn’t have enough supplies to make her effortful effortless makeup look. Aelin sighed. Maybe she’d just start the conversation and see what Rowan’s expectations were. He didn’t seem like the guy who would run away from something remotely serious and dread becoming more, but still. Also, he knew damn well she’d had enough of this type of guy for a lifetime already. It’s not like Aelin was looking for a husband, for Mala’s sake, some reliable company or even something casually serious would be just fine.

Out of the bathroom, Rowan was on the bed with his phone, while her own was on a charger he borrowed from reception. He looked up at her, and Aelin’s heart melted with the fond look in his eyes.

“I want to talk about last night.”

Rowan put his phone down. “What about it?”

“Well…” she began tracing circles on the mattress with her finger, trying to think of a good way to start. “It changes things, don’t you think?”

“I don’t see why we should change anything.”

Aelin held on a sigh. Of course. Flashbacks from every reason why she started a dating hiatus popped in her mind, except this one was worse because she already has feelings—

“I mean,” he continued, “We already agreed on dating, right?”

Her heart stopped. What?

“No, we agreed on fake dating,” she carefully explained. “Now we’re redefining things, but it seems like we’re fake dating with benefits.”

“What’s the difference between dating and fake dating with benefits?”

God, she wished she had the simple mind of a man. After explaining everything in detail, Rowan seemed just as lost.

“Sounds the same to me. I’ll just keep calling you my girlfriend.” He scratched the back of his neck. “If that’s okay with you?”

It was perfect, actually. Aelin’s smile was so wide it was an answer on itself. “We’re dating, then?”

“We were always dating.”

“Absolutely not!”

“I introduced you to my parents and told them you’re my girlfriend. That’s dating to me.”

Aelin shook her head. Because they were fake dating, but Rowan didn’t have basic trope knowledge. “But we weren’t getting physical!”

Rowan crossed his arms, a smug grin on his face. “Yet.”

She mirrored his posture, eyebrows raised. “Is that so?”

“I had big plans of seducing you after your dating hiatus.”

Aelin’s jaw dropped, but it quickly became a huge grin. She definitely wasn’t expecting that. “And what did these plans entail?”

He turned her around and guided her towards the door with both hands gripping her waist. “I’ll show you after breakfast,” he whispered on her ear by the time her hand reached the doorknob.

Well, that was some surprising plot twist in her celibate year.

Aelin was still quite sure love is an unreliable bitch.

However, things were looking really good for her this time.

A/N: If you got to this point, thank you for reading and not giving up on my writing after I kinda disappeared for a while! Specially for reading a holiday fic mid-March lol. So uncool of me. I’m a little embarrassed about that, if you can’t tell. Ha. Let’s hope next time I finish at least before I take the decorations down, huh?

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