#and now he's embarrassed about az finding out he researches something

[itsphoenix0724]

Flower Power (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Az comes into contact with a strange flower on his trip to the continent, and he begins having some strange.....side effects.

Word Counts: 3.3k

Warnings: Smut, aphrodisiac sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it pls)

A/N: Hello everyone! This is entirely self-indulgent I'm not even gonna lie. The next part of Your Heart on a Platter will be out soon, but I could not focus on it with this idea in my head. I tried to play around with different POVs, so I hope it came out okay! Please enjoy, and as always constructive criticism is welcome!

“Thank you for coming,” Rhys mutters, quickly ushering you into the small apartment and closing the door behind you. Nothing appears to be in disarray so that means that Az was at least coherent enough to get himself back to his apartment and not break anything in the process. 

“He seems okay right now, but I thought you should give him a once over anyway.”

“Of course,” you nod at Rhys, “Better to be safe than sorry.” You had officially joined the Inner Circle as a healer 30 years ago when Madja retired, and you had easily grown into part of your found family. You were always closer to Az, you preferred his quiet demeanor over the loudness and boyishness of the rest of the family, and he actually was quite funny if you listened to him. You two quickly became a pair of wall flowers at social events, always holed up in some corner quietly joking about your family’s antics.  

Apparently, when Az had been on a mission to the continent he had come into contact with some strange flower. Rhys had sent you the mental playback of Az falling out of the sky into a field of those flowers, and you had researched them to the best of your ability before you came over. 

For Az’s sake, you really hoped this wasn’t the flower you thought it was. 

“How do you feel Az?” you ask, walking into the room to find Az sitting on his bed with his elbows resting on his knees. He looks up at you in greeting, hazel eyes tracking your movements to him across the room. 

“I feel fine. Rhys is just being a mother hen.” He offers you a small smirk as you roll your eyes and move to stand in between his legs. You try to fight down the smile forming on your lips and fail, and his eyes shine with victory. 

“This is supposed to be a professional medical visit Shadowsinger,” you tut, smiling as you run your hands through his hair to check for any bumps from his fall. Az lets his eyes slip shut, enjoying the way your fingers feel in his hair. He has to stop himself from reaching for your wrists as you drag your hands away. “How are you feeling?”

“Throats a little sore,” He mutters, “My back hurts from the crash landing but I’ve had worse.” He notices the way your eyes widen slightly when he mentions his sore throat. “What is it?” he tugs at your hips pulling you closer into his space. He has to fight down the urge to nuzzle his head into your neck. Your smell is much stronger than usual, fresh tea and rainwater, but he chalks it up to being away from you for a few days. 

“You might be experiencing some strange….side effects from the plants that you crash landed into.” Your cheeks flush a bright red. Azriel furrows his eyebrows at you, he doesn’t understand why you’re so embarrassed. You let out a sigh. 

You have to tell him no matter how much it embarrasses you. You can’t let him go into this blind. 

“The flower field you crashed into may have certain aphrodisiac properties.” you manage to choke out, and you watch as dark red floods the tan skin on Azriel’s cheeks.

“Oh” Az coughs, running a hand through his hair. “When will we find out?” You’ve never seen him so bashful before. He refuses to make eye contact with you.

“We should know by tomorrow morning,” You clear your throat. “If you wake up tomorrow with a fever you’ve been affected. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight just in case you need something, and if you are affected I’ll monitor your recovery.” He nods at you again.

“And will you be safe here…If I am affected.” Azriel would hate himself if he did anything to you while he wasn’t himself. He was pleading with the mother that this would end up being nothing. His self-control around you was paper thin enough already. 

He didn’t need a flower turning him into a glorified beast thrown into the mix as well. 

“You won’t hurt me,” you promise and you can see his shoulders slump. “I’ll make you some tea before bed, and tell Rhys we might be holed up here for a couple of days. Then you should probably get some rest.” Azriel nods at you again as you leave the room.

You make your way to the kitchen and find Rhys perched against the island. His eyes are glazed over in a way that tells you he’s probably talking to Feyre. You root around in Az’s cabinet and find your favorite brand of tea tucked away in the back. Your face flushes as you realize he must have bought it at your recommendation, and you can’t help but be reminded of the many times you and Az had spent combing over books in the library over this same brand of tea. Your daydream is interrupted as Rhys clears his throat behind you. He notices the blush on your cheeks and sends you a feline smirk. 

Bastard.

“How’s the patient?” he asks, leaning across the island. 

“He’s okay for right now. I’m going to stay and monitor him throughout the night. If he is having a reaction I’ll stay and make sure he’s okay, but it’ll probably be a couple of days before the drug runs its course naturally.” You allow yourself to slip back into the role of healer instead of a friend to make this conversation less embarrassing. 

“I’m sure Az will be happy he gets to hole up here with you for a few days. The last time I had time like that with Feyre I took full advantage.” Rhys smirks again at the flames rising to your cheeks, playfully wiggling his eyebrows. 

You wonder if Feyre would punish you for treason if you sent a mug flying at Rhy’s head. 

“Rhysand!” you admonish, “Azriel and I are friends and that is all. Plus I would never take advantage of him like that.” All Rhys does is laugh and wish you luck as he winnows out, most likely straight into the arms of his mate to tell her about the weekend you’re possibly in for. You wander back into Azriel’s room armed with a mug of tea and a book to keep him occupied. You find him still perched on the edge of the bed lost in thought. He’s no longer in his leathers and instead changed them out for comfortable pants. It takes your mind a second to process the fact that he’s shirtless. Large wings are draped across the bed, and you find yourself staring at the muscled back and swirls of tattoos across his chest. His shadows end up noticing you’re there before he does as one comes to swirl excitedly around your wrist pulling you in front of its master. Az offers you a small smile as you set the cup of tea down on his nightstand and press the book into his hands. 

“What’s this?” he questions you, scarred hands thumbing through the pages. Your eyes track every move of those fingers as they gently run down the spine. The shadows are curling around your ankles as he looks up at you again, “newest read?”

Mother those hands get you every fucking time

“I thought you’d like it,” you nod. “I wanted to wait and give it to you when you got back from the continent, and I figured it might keep your mind busy while we were stuck here.” Az shoots you a grateful smile as he sets the book down beside him on the bed. “I’ll be on the couch if you need me.” Azriel immediately protests, grabbing at your wrist to stop your exit.

“I can sleep on the couch,” he argues, ever the gentleman. You can tell he already feels bad enough about you having to stay. 

“It’s alright Az. You need to rest, and I know you won’t be able to sleep well on the couch with your wings.” He considers for a moment then relents as a shadow brushes across your cheek in thanks. You wish him goodnight as you leave his room to make yourself comfortable on the couch. Distantly you can hear Azriel settle into bed, and flick through the pages of the book you gave to him. You flick through the pages of the book you brought before drifting to sleep on the couch. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Go, go go” 

The first thing Azriel notices when he wakes up is the fact that he feels like his whole body is on fire. He shoves off the thin pants he already wore to bed, leaving him in just his black undershorts, and practically throws the comforter down to the floor with them. Leaving just the thin bed sheet as he rolls over to the other side. The second thing he notices is that his shadows are frantic, whispering to him nonstop to go somewhere. 

“Go Where,” Azriel growls out into the smoke. The soreness in his throat apparently has gotten worse. 

The swirl stops for a moment before continuing with their chatter. It now seems like they’re talking more to each other than himself. He tries to listen in again, but it only gives him a pounding headache. 

“Go go go,” They urge again as the swirling black mass moves to the door. 

“Go, living room, go” They haven’t been this insistent in a long time, and when he hears the living room he’s worried that something has happened to you. He relents letting a shadow creep under the door to go investigate the living room. He lets himself phase out for a moment, seeing through the eyes of shadow to where you’re peacefully sleeping curled on the couch. He exhales a sigh of relief. 

Safe. You were safe. 

The shadow, however, was much more interested in the way your bare legs were curled on the couch as it happily swirled around your thighs. Azriel tried to reign it back in, but it refused to budge, so eventually he relents and just lets it stay with you. 

He indulges in a few more minutes of watching your breathing before dragging himself back into his body. 

The fever was quickly becoming unbearable as he drags himself out of his sweat-soaked sheets and into a cold bath. It helps slightly, but the flames beneath his skin continue to burn him alive. The shadow he left slinking around your sleeping form has reported that you’re awake and heading into his bathroom now. He swears he can feel his fever spike higher the closer he gets to you. You greet him with a warm smile and a glass of cold water, and he notices the pink tint to your cheeks as you reach down to feel his forehead. 

God, you smell so fucking good. 

Az feels like he’s under a spell, or maybe he’s in a dream. You look like an angel, and Az wants nothing more than to drag you and that pretty nightgown right into the bathtub with him and-

Mother above he had to get a hold of himself right fucking now before he does something he would regret once this stupid thing was out of his system. It takes him a minute to process that you’ve been speaking. 

“-have to go to the House, apparently there was an accident in training.” You look back at Az again and realize that he’s zoned out. “Az are you even listening to me?” His eyes snap back up to your face and shoots you a guilty smile. 

“I’m sorry, I’m finding it very hard to concentrate at the moment.” You understand of course, and touch your hand to his head again. Sending out a wave of power to at least ease his fever for a while. Az immediately lets out a sigh of relief, sinking further into the bath as he feels his mind returning to him. His eyes seem more focused, so you tell him about your plans to go to the House again to deal with an accident that happened in training. You leave Az to finish his bath and get dressed before leaving for the House of Wind. 

A couple of hours pass and Azriel feels like a prowling animal. His condition has only worsened since you left, and he’s had a very painful hard on that will not go away even after he’s relieved himself quite a few times. His shadows have been swarming in tense clumps and everything about this environment reads “Dangerous, stay away.” Azriel settles onto his bed again, palming himself through his leathers, for what seems like the 5th time his mind starts running as yanks his pants down. 

He feels ashamed of himself when he pictures your mouth wrapped around his cock instead of his hand, but at the moment he can’t bring himself to care. His mind won’t stop no matter what he does. What would’ve happened if he pulled you into the bathtub this morning, his head between your thighs in that damn blue dress you wore last starfall. Him fucking into from behind after a night of him watching you dance at Rita’s. He’s never accepted your invitations to dance, he realizes, too afraid that his paper thin self control would snap. 

He decides to say fuck self control, he would crawl from here to spring for a taste of you if that’s what you asked.

He hears his front door open as his shadows rush to investigate. He knows it’s you returning from the house of wind, and he moans when he hears you call his name. He hears you in the kitchen as he shoots himself up to go find you. His brain feels disconnected from his body and the only thing he feels is primal need. You’re turned around washing some kind of fruit in the sink. He’s ready to get down on his knees, and beg you to touch him. 

And then he smells it.

You’re covered in the strong earthy scent that belongs to Cassian, and it sends his mind into overdrive. You don’t hear him creep up behind you, and he turns you around against the sink. All of the strong hard muscle is pressed up against you, and you jump as you realize that he doesn’t have any clothes on. 

“Az,” you manage to stutter out “What’s wrong, what’s going on?” He growls against your neck when you say his name, grinding his hard length against you as you shudder.

“You smell like Cassian,” he snarls “and you’re mine.” He presses his lips against the curve of your neck, trying to drown out everything that smells like his brother. You moan as Az bites at the pulse point behind your ear.

“Azriel we can’t. Not now, not like this.” This is everything you’ve ever wanted, but you won’t take advantage of him like this. 

“You want me,” Azriel counters. “I can smell you dripping for me.” He proves his point by grinding against you again as you let out a loud moan that Az wants to swallow. “I want you too, can’t you feel it?” 

Your resolve is obviously cracking and the Spymaster can clearly tell. 

“I always want you,” Azriel promises in a shocking moment of clarity as he runs his nose along the shell of your ear. “This is me, these are my feelings, but I just can’t help myself right now. Please, I need to touch you, and if we both come out of this and regret everything we never have to talk about it again.” Your resolve finally cracks, and Az practically purrs into your ear as you agree. Dragging your pants and underwear down in foul swoop, Az hoists you onto the counter and sinks to his knees before you. 

“Been thinking about this pussy for years now,” Az mumbles between your thighs as he licks one strong stripe through your center.

He eats you like a starving man, licking and sucking at your core until your thighs are clamping around his head. When one of his fingers slips inside you, you scream his name so loud you think the windows ratte against their frame. He fucks you with his fingers until his finds the soft spot inside of you, and you’re cuming all over his tongue. Az laps up the mess he made before you’re yanking him up to get his mouth on yours. You moan at the taste of you on his tongue as his hands make quick work of the rest of your clothing. Az grabs around your thighs, hoisting you into his arms as the world falls away and all the sudden he’s throwing you onto the bed. You reach your hand down to cup Azriel before he pulls your hand away and shakes his head. 

“No I want to finish inside you” Az presses more kisses all over your neck as he reaches down to pull at your nipples. You arch your hips off the bed as you grind yourself against him in an attempt to find some kind of relief. Az slowly eases himself in until he’s fully seated inside of you. He lets you have a few moments to adjust before he’s fucking into you at a relentless pace. 

At this point the only thing you remember is Azriel’s name and the way he’s making you feel. 

Az is close, his thrusts are becoming irregular and he just needs one final push. You reach across his broad shoulders and run your hand along his wing in a way that makes Azriel let out a roar. He reaches down and rubs at the apex of your thighs as you both crash through your orgasms together. He collapses onto the sheets beside you as his mind seems to be returning to his body. You can tell the drug is working its way out of his system. His burning hot fever lowering as you feel his whole body tense beside you. You squeeze your eyes shut. 

You can’t bear to see the look of regret on his face. 

Azriel clears his throat and says your name, clearly trying to get your attention. You pry your eyes open, and see the guilty look on his face. 

“Az, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to take advantage of you. I'm so so sorry.” Az immediately looks confused as he violently shakes his head before putting a hand on your jaw. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for sweetheart, I’m sorry I should have been able to control myself. I didn’t want it to happen like this.” Your eyes snap up to meet Az’s, hazel eyes tracking your face. 

“What do you mean ‘happen like this’ Az.” Pink floods his cheeks as he looks away from you, mouth clamping shut. “Azriel.” He takes a deep breath and looks up at you again. 

“I wanted to court you properly. Take you on dates, bring you flowers. The things that a good respectable male should do instead of just taking you to bed. I especially didn’t want to put you in a situation where you felt like you couldn’t say no.” Az runs his hand along your jaw again. “If you want nothing to do with me now I understand, but I’ve had feelings for you for a very long time.”

You can’t help but start laughing as Az looks up at you with a bewildered look on his face. “Why are you laughing?” Azriel questions, his eyebrows furrowing together. You lean over and press a kiss against Az’s lips. 

“I have feelings for you too, I just didn’t think you felt that way for me.” Az shakes his head as he leans over to kiss you again.

“I still want to do this right. Take you on dates and such.” he mumbles against your lips, and your body starts to tingle from your toes to the tips of your fingers. 

“I think that can be arranged Shadowsinger.”

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar imagine #smut #azriel smut

[krakensdottir]

Crowley vs. Plants

Okay, in another thread the plant thing came up, where Crowley is kind of assumed by fandom in general to be a gardening expert, and usually depicted as having been such for a long time.

Now, I like taking bits of popular fanon and looking at them, where they come from, what actual basis they have, what other possibilities there are. It’s a whole thing I do that’ll probably get me yelled at eventually, but anyway.

Canonically, Crowley started ‘talking to plants’ after hearing about it in the 70s. It’s possible he had a plant obsession going back before that, but there’s no indication of that at all. It’s implied to be more of a fad he picked up. And in the series at least, it’s very clear that it’s become a form of dubiously healthy self-administered therapy, that he’s taking out his frustrations on the plants. But only for the last few decades, apparently.

Then there’s how he cares for them. We don’t know what sort of plant care knowledge he actually possesses. Crowley kind of makes things work around him by sheer force of will, so for instance, things in his house work when they shouldn’t and food in his fridge doesn’t go off (according to the book) and vehicles manifest music players because he expects them to be there. So he doesn’t necessarily have a green thumb whatsoever. His plants may well be large and luxurious and green solely because he expects them to be. Yelling and occasionally spraying with a plant mister might well be the extent of the effort he puts into it.

On the other hand, they are said to be the only thing in his flat he devotes any attention to. And he seems to have given some thought to his purchase of a plant mister. And we do briefly catch him listening to a gardening show on the radio as the Apocalypse looms.

So it’s entirely possible he has taken the trouble to learn a bit about plants. And it wouldn’t be too surprising, either. Crowley has a compulsive streak; the book mentions that he likes to organize things (especially when stressed) and the spare spotlessness of his flat makes me think the same is intended in the series. He needs distractions, and it helps if they’re meticulous, detailed distractions. Plant care can definitely be that. I could see it being a hobby he got surprisingly into, once he took it up on a whim, and now knows way more about it than he needs to. He almost certainly could keep them alive by sheer willpower, but maybe he takes pride in putting some effort into it.

In conclusion, he wasn’t necessarily always a plant fan, and in fact it’s likely that’s a recent thing, but whether he just uses miracles to keep them in good condition or actually has done the research and finds it more satisfying to do things the hard way is totally up to headcanon. Either would make sense character-wise, I think.

#good omens #crowley #the plant thing #gently dissecting fanon #I'd love to see a take where he didn't intend it to become a thing and it became a Thing #and now he's embarrassed about az finding out he researches something #as a HOBBY #shudder

[missbrightsky]

I didn’t know where else to go

Fics Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Chapter 3: Feyre

The first thing that came back to me was pain. Dull, throbbing pain everywhere. Deep in my muscles and throughout my head. I couldn’t tell if it was the possible mild concussion or the hangover that made opening my eyes so hard.

A hangover.

I forced my eyes all the way open, wincing back from the bright light that forced its way through the curtains. My movement had me pressing into something warm and large that tightened its grip on me.

That thing was Rhysand fucking Noc.

I slept with Rhysand fucking Noc. The crime boss I was currently trying to put behind bars for life.

And it was the best sex of my life.

  Fuck.

He mumbled something in his sleepy state, somehow pulling me even closer when there was already no space between us. His breath fanned over my neck, sending shivers that traveled down my body into my core. Shivers that woke him up just barely.

“Good morning, darling, did you sleep well?” he managed to get out, voice rough from last night activities.

I froze, my brain unable to make me move or think or breathe.

He felt me go still and shifted so that he was leaning over me, balancing on his forearms. The pressure he exerted on me finally went away, my bruises sang and protested at the lack of contact. I finally returned to my body, air whooshing out of my lungs.

If I had morning breath, he showed no sign of noticing it, and that was enough to set me off.

How dare he look so damn good in the morning?

How dare he take care of me in my injured state?

How dare he.

Even though you were the one to show up on his doorstep last night.

To shove that thought away, I took it out on him. My self-defense training took over, wrapping one leg to hook behind his knee.

His eyes sparked with violet fire, leaning down in response to what he thought was me trying to pull him closer.

In actuality, I was about to flip him on his ass.

Just before his lips met mine, I placed my hands on his shoulders and bucked my hips up, throwing his balance to the left so that I was able to land him flat on his back with me holding him down. He might have had several inches on me, but I had years of training against guys twice my size. It was almost too easy to keep him pinned down; bewildered eyes boring into mine.

The words “I’m leaving” were on the tip of my tongue and promptly died there when I realized that we were both completely naked. A flush burned its way across my face and down my neck when I felt him twitch under me. At least he had the decency to look mildly embarrassed at their compromised conditions.

Not trusting myself to stay on task, I climbed off of him and turned my back, searching the room for my clothes. When I felt a hand graze my neck, I launched myself on the edge and practically sprinted to the bathroom, grabbing clothes as I went.

The door slammed shut behind me, I twisted the lock for a good measure and held my breath. There was no sound of movement from the other side, I slowly released it and dropped my clothes on the counter, assessing what I had managed to grab.

It was not a pretty or comforting sight; my underwear and bloodied shirt was all that was in the room. Which means that I had been drunk enough last night to strip elsewhere until we made it to the bed.

Lucien was going to have this carved onto my gravestone when I died of my captain skinning me over this. I’ve had my fair share of awkward morning afters but this one really took the cake.

“Feyre? Can we just talk?” came his voice. It sounded distressed but I tried not to read into it too much.

“I left some clean clothes on the bed that I think will fit, I’ll be downstairs.”

I waited until I heard his footsteps retreat and thump down the stairs. I released the breath I had been holding. I needed to stop before I passed out and bring on a whole other mess.

Forcing myself to breathe evenly through my nose, I cracked the door open and peeked out the make sure he had truly gone.

He had laid a soft old t-shirt and sweats, both being too big for me but it was better than walking around half-naked while collecting the rest of my clothing.

I tied the sweats as tightly as possible to stop them from slipping and began to creep down the hallway and stairs. If he was distracted and if I was careful enough, I could get past him and from there I would be home free.

He was in the kitchen facing away from me, messing with something by the stove, the smell of coffee, bacon, and toast made my stomach growl, my own body giving my position away.

My mind ran through every curse word I knew, none of them strong enough for the situation.

Rhys had at least thrown on pants but neglected to put on a shirt. Tattoos that I had somehow forgotten about flowed up and over his shoulders. Delicate red lines crisscrossed his back, the spacing exactly matching my fingers.

I fucking scratched him. 

What the fuck is wrong with me.

 I need to get out of here now.

I started to turn towards the living room, hoping there was still a chance to make a clean getaway when his voice washed over me.

“I’m not who you think I am, Feyre.”

It sounded tired, exhausted, world-weary. Like he had seen too much and never got the rest he deserved.

I turned back to him, analyzing his posture. He stayed facing away from me, hands braced on the counter, head bowed as if a great weight rested on his shoulders. Like a fallen angel that you saw painted on church ceilings.

“What do you know about me?” he continued.

I hesitated, caught between wanting to know what he meant and getting out of there. Curiosity took over, driving my feet forward to the kitchen.

“Rhysand Noc. Thirty-two. Head of the Veritas Crime Syndicate. Street name: Lord of the Night.” I had repeated this information every time at countless briefings, his profile was burned into my memory. His frustratingly blank profile.

“Your second in command is Amren Monsea, followed by Morrigan Solis. Cassian Noc and Azriel Noc are your adopted brothers, they train your men and generally do your dirty work.” And that was the end of what I knew, it was impossible to get information out of anyone, what they had came to them by common knowledge and pure luck. His men were ridiculously tight-lipped and loyal, making us ask what the fuck they were so loyal to.

“And why do you think I’m a criminal? Why do you think I do what I do?”

The words were hard to admit, “I don’t know.”

He released a sigh of his own, finally turning towards me. I forced my eyes to stay on his face, trying to read the emotions in it and not get distracted by how the tattoos continued down his chest. I knew I would never be able to get them out of my head until I painted or at least sketched them. Another piece of cannon fodder for Lucien.

“All of that is right, except that Amren and Mor are family too, Cas and Az are the only on paper ones.”

“Oh,” was all I could say. He handed me a cup of coffee and gestured to the cream and sugar that was on the counter next to me. Once I had fixed it to my liking, I took a seat at one of the barstools by the sink, putting a counter between us. It was easier to distance myself from him so that I wouldn’t get too caught up in his story.

“I’m not from Velaris, if my accent wasn’t any indication. Me and my family come from a small country across the world,” then quietly, “it doesn’t exist anymore.

“My parents were very private people, wealthy enough that my brothers and I never had to worry about anything. Mor is my cousin on my fathers’ side, Amren is some distant aunt but she’s always been around. Every childhood has its problems, but for the most part, I was happy. We were all… happy.” The sadness in his voice twisted my heart, making me dread what was coming next.

“It all started out very small, random attacks in towns on the border. We knew we were surrounded by warring countries, but they rarely bothered us. But then people started getting sick, a disease that none of our doctors had ever heard of. It killed so many so fast, our government worked to keep it from the outside world, afraid that the other countries would take advantage of our weakness but also afraid of it spreading across the globe. Through harsh military force, we sealed our borders and tried to let the disease run its course.

“Our researchers did their best to find a cure or vaccine, but it was just too devastating of a disease.”

A deep breath racked his chest.

“One night, my parents rushed into my room, demanding me to pack only the necessities. My mother went to my brothers’ rooms, asking the same of them. My father stayed behind, and as he helped me pack, he explained what was really going on in the country.

“Even though he was not involved in politics, he had several friends that were. They were all saying that the attacks were not random and that the disease was a bioweapon. A high ranking official named Amarantha from a warring country had set her sights on ours.

“She was determined to bring us to our knees and then annex our country into hers. It was some bullshit vendetta passed down in her family. She was cutthroat, bloodthirsty, driven almost to madness by her mission. She staged a coup within our government so that she could easily swoop in to take over.

“It was that night that the coup was happening, there was bloodshed in the streets and fires breaking out, it was chaos. My father said that Amren was taking me, my brothers and Mor out of the country, to somewhere safe. I didn’t understand why he and my mother weren’t coming with us, I still don’t to this day.

“The last time I saw them was through a darkened car window as we drove toward the border, away from my collapsing country. I was 15.”

Tears burned in the back of my eyes, but I was determined to not let them fall. His tragic backstory did not absolve him of the crimes that he committed in my city.

The story wasn’t over yet. “Somehow, Amarantha managed to keep the whole ordeal quiet to the world news, only a few statements saying that they had peacefully absorbed my country into hers due to unstable economic conditions. Everyone forgot about it and moved onto the next piece of gossip.

“Me and my surviving family never forgot. Mor’s parents and mine managed to transfer the majority of their wealth to outside shell companies so that we would be able to continue to live in ease. Amren had all of our names legally changed so that no one would come hunting us from escaping Amarantha’s wrath. That’s why you can’t find any official records on us, they’re either all buried back in my home country or you don’t know the name that you’re looking for.”

A twinge of frustration plucked at my nerves, of course a crime boss wouldn’t use their real name.

“This still doesn’t explain why you’ve been kidnapping people and raiding warehouses,” I accused, trying to stay in my detective mindset.

“A year ago, I got word that she was in Velaris, that she had set her sights on taking this city and then the country. That’s when my family and I decided that we would come here and fight back. We knew that the police and government wouldn’t believe a small group of rich people, especially when they came out of nowhere from a country that no longer exists. History had forgotten us, but we haven’t forgotten what she did.

“Our money made it easy to establish a foothold in the underworld and gain supply lines there. We want to try and avoid all-out bloodshed but we’re preparing for the worst. The people that we have taken are researchers in immunology, disease control, and drug development, all top in their field. They are being cared for in a safe facility, they aren’t too happy about it but some of them were quite excited by the challenge of a new disease.” A small chuckle broke through his serious demeanor. “We have them trying to find a cure and/or a vaccine but it’s slow going right now.”

“The warehouses we were raiding was us looking for any supplies we thought she was shipping in for preparation. We did manage to find some crates of weapons but nothing that indicated she was preparing for a bioattack, and that’s somehow more troubling.

“The past few months you’ve been after us have made it hard to move around, so I’ll give you that. You’re a good detective by the way.”

“Thanks, but it seems I’ve somehow been doing a shitty job of it.”

“Don’t get yourself too down, you were good enough to get the whole story in the past few minutes, I’d say that’s pretty impressive.”

“Yeah by showing up bloody and then sleeping with you,” I blurted. Whoops.

He flushed at the reminder, looking away. “Well I hope it wasn’t completely insufferable for you to do your civic duty then,” he muttered, almost sounding upset at the thought that he got used for information.

Fuck, “It was far from the worst night of my life, I’ll give you that,” I admitted. His earnest retelling somehow made me too honest for my own liking. I needed to get out of his radius before I did something stupid again.

He gave a faint smile at my statement, looking slightly redeemed.

“Anytime, darling,” he teased, trying to shake off the awkward silence that was settling around us like a heavy blanket.

I let out a small, exasperated sigh at the nickname, looks like it wasn’t going away anytime soon. I stayed silent, absorbing the new information while he turned back to the stove, putting on more bacon to fry.

I wasn’t about to stick around to have morning after breakfast with my enemy who was maybe no longer my enemy, I’ll have to figure that out soon before it drove me insane.

Spotting my pants draped over the coffee table (ugh), I padded over to pick them up in which revealed my bra (shit) and then, in turn, revealed my phone (fuck). It thankfully still had some battery in it, the screen flashing with 12 text messages and 3 missed calls from Lucien.

Running late today, huh?

Captain’s not here yet so you might get away with it.

Never mind he just showed up.

Hey if you’re getting coffee, grab me a white mocha?

Feyre? You ok?

Missed call.

Are you sick today? I know you stayed late at the office.

The desk sergeant said you only an hour after me, where did you go?

Missed call.

Oooooo captain is getting angry, hurry your ass up, I don’t want to deal with him.

Seriously tho, where did you go last night?

Oh some hot date you want to surprise me with?

Missed call.

If you don’t call me back in the next 10 minutes, I’m putting an APB out on you.

That last one was from 9 minutes ago. I pressed the call button, he answered on the second ring.

“There you are! Where the fuck are you?”

“Hey Luc, it’s been a rough night. I’ll explain to you when I get to the precinct.”

“Uh-huh, ok, well you don’t have to tell me.”

“I’m serious, I’ll be there in less than an hour, I need to go home, shower and change.”

“So you DID have a hot date last night, knew it.”

I cringed, looking over to where Rhys was trying very hard to look like he was not listening.

“Something like that, look I gotta go, I’ll deal with the captain when I get back.”

“Whatever you say, see you soon.”

He ended the call and the screen went black, there went the rest of the battery.

“I need to leave.”

“Ok, you can borrow the shirt, unless you want to take the subway in the bloody one,” he teased.

I narrowed my eyes at him, not really in the mood to be poked at when I was already in so much trouble.

“Sure, thank you.”

I gathered up my belongings to go change. When I came back down, he had wrapped some bacon and toast in foil so I can eat it along the way. Considerate motherfucker.

“So, are you going to help me?”

I paused, shocked at his question.

“What,” I whispered.

“Are you going to help me stop Amarantha?”

I took him in, looking for any hint of anything other the sincerity, and found none. Every logical part of my brain said no, to not believe what he had told me and to haul him in over the confession. He had given me enough to hold him on until I had a warrant to search his place. I know that some of those guns on the wall weren’t legal in Prythian.

But I couldn’t say no. The threat of her was too great, even if he was making it all up. If I stayed close to him, I could gather evidence to arrest him if he was lying. I was smart enough to stay safe, as long as I didn’t get drunk and sleep with him again.

“Yes. I’ll help you take down Amarantha.”

Next Chapter

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #sjm #sjmaas #sjmaas books #sarah j maas #feyre #feyre x rhysand #rhysand

[junker-town]

The 56 silliest college football bowl game names of all time, with a new No. 1 for 2017

The champ was finally dethroned.

Lots of college football bowl games have silly names. That has always been the case. At any point in history, however, certain bowls stand above their peers, whether due to absurd sponsors, a weird poetry collision between location and sponsor, or what have you.

Setting aside the many bowls whose sponsors are just trying to sell pretty normal products, here are the strangest bowl names ever. If you haven’t heard the news yet, let me just warn you that the one you’re thinking of right now, the one that’s long been the weirdest ever, has just been beaten.

56. Visit Florida Tangerine Bowl (2001) in Orlando

All bowls were originally tourism things. The verb shows commitment, and all bowls should use one. Come on down to the Test Drive Jeep Eagle Aloha Bowl.

54. (tie) AdvoCare V100 Independence Bowl (2008-12) in Shreveport, La. AdvoCare V100 Texas Bowl (2014-) in Houston

The company frequently accused of being a pyramid scheme travels the bowl landscape, like a medicine salesman in the Wild West.

53. Progressive Gator Bowl (2011) in Jacksonville

“The medium-sized animals I eat in one big bite are all locally sourced.”

48. (tie) Blockbuster Bowl (1990-93) in Miami IBM OS/2 Fiesta Bowl (1993-95) in Tempe, Az. CompUSA Florida Citrus Bowl (1994-99) in Orlando EA Sports Las Vegas Bowl (1999) Sega Sports Las Vegas Bowl (2001-02)

The wave of pre-2000s technology bowls. Let the awkward nostalgia wash over you. There’s an even weirder wave like this one, later on in the list.

Nothing says “fiesta” quite like IBM’s operating system.

47. Rose Bowl presented by PlayStation 2 (2003) in Pasadena, Ca.

The Rose Bowl is too important to have a title sponsor, technically, so it’s been doing this “presented by” thing since 1999. This sport’s grandest and most serious game being Presented By a video game platform whose latest releases included The Clone Wars, Nickelodeon Party Blast, and The Simpsons Skateboarding: perfect.

46. Alamo Bowl Presented By MasterCard (2002) in San Antonio

That year when the Alamo Bowl was just as fancy as the Rose Bowl.

45. Famous Idaho Potato Bowl (2011-)

Fake it ‘til you make it, and at this point, the Idaho Potato Bowl is somewhat Famous, I guess.

44. Gotham Bowl (1961-62) in New York City

23. (tie) AXA Liberty Bowl (1997-2003) in Memphis Sylvania Alamo Bowl (1999-2001) in San Antonio Culligan Holiday Bowl (1998-2001) in San Diego GMAC Mobile Alabama Bowl/GMAC Bowl (2000-2010) ConAgra Foods Hawaiʻi Bowl (2002) PlainsCapital Fort Worth Bowl (2003-04) R+L Carriers New Orleans Bowl (2006-) Bell Helicopter Armed Forces Bowl (2006-13) in Fort Worth EagleBank Bowl (2008-09) in Annapolis, Md. uDrove Humanitarian Bowl (2010) in Boise Bridgepoint Education Holiday Bowl (2010-12) in San Diego Franklin American Mortgage Music City Bowl (2010-) in Nashville Military Bowl presented by Northrop Grumman (2010-) in Annapolis BBVA Compass Bowl (2011-14) in Birmingham National University Holiday Bowl (2013-14) in San Diego Heart of Dallas Bowl presented by PlainsCapital Bank (2013-14) Royal Purple Las Vegas Bowl (2013-15) Lockheed Martin Armed Forces Bowl (2014-) in Fort Worth Raycom Media Camellia Bowl (2014-) in Montgomery, Al. NOVA Home Loans Arizona Bowl (2015-) in Tucson, Az. San Diego County Credit Union Poinsettia Bowl (2005-16)/Holiday Bowl (2017-) in San Diego

The “how could bowl sponsorship possibly inspire anyone to spend money on these things?” group.

AXA is a French insurance firm, Sylvania is a subsidiary of a German lighting manufacturer, Culligan is a water treatment company based in Illinois, GMAC was an auto lender, ConAgra is a huge company with dozens of food brands, PlainsCapital is a bank that’s probably not in your town, R+L Carriers trucks stuff, EagleBank is a bank that’s probably not in your town, Bell sells war vehicles to governments, uDrove was some sort of trucking app, Bridgepoint is a for-profit university, National is a non-profit university (this was when the Holiday Bowl went legit), BBVA is also a bank that’s probably not in your town, Northrop Grumman also sells war vehicles to governments, Franklin American Mortgage sells entire houses, PlainsCapital is yet another bank that’s probably not in your town, Royal Purple sells industrial lube, Lockheed Martin sells war vehicles to governments, Raycom is a TV thing you either get or don’t get, NOVA will sell you an entire house, and the SDCCU is probably not in your town.

22. Salad Bowl (1947-55) in Phoenix

Lots of games have been named after funny foods. This is the funniest of the genre.

21. Zaxby's Heart of Dallas Bowl (2014-)

You’d think the last word this very salty chicken chain — folks, so much salt, you wouldn’t believe, so many people are telling me about the salt, everywhere I go — would want people to think about is the word “heart.” If ever I were to consider ordering a bucket of Zaladz, and in that moment, someone said to me the word “heart,” I would stop.

11. (tie) Insight.com Bowl (1997-2001) in Tucson, Az. HomePoint.com Music City Bowl (1999) in Nashville MicronPC.com Bowl (1999-2000) in Miami Crucial.com Humanitarian Bowl (1999-2003) in Boise Ourhouse.com Florida Citrus Bowl (2000) in Orlando galleryfurniture.com Bowl (2000-01) in Houston EV1.net Houston Bowl (2002-05) PapaJohns.com Bowl (2006-10) in Birmingham GoDaddy.com Bowl (2011-13) in Mobile, Al. TaxSlayer.com Gator Bowl (2012-13) in Jacksonville

I still can’t believe we had football games named after websites for almost two decades. I can’t believe that happened.

10. TaxSlayer Bowl (2014-) in Jacksonville

All these years in, and I still don’t know what to say. What a stupid series of words!

9. Cheribundi Tart Cherry Boca Raton Bowl (2017-)

Really biased in favor of the ones with lots and lots of verbiage, like NFL play calls. Walk into the huddle and bark this out, then see if you don’t put 25 yards on the Colts.

8. Duck Commander Independence Bowl (2014) in Shreveport

WAR DUCK WAR BOWL.

7. BattleFrog Fiesta Bowl (2015) in Glendale, Az.

WAR FROG PARTY BOWL.

3. (tie) magicJack St. Petersburg Bowl (2008) St. Petersburg Bowl Presented by Beef 'O' Brady's (2009) Beef 'O' Brady's Bowl (2010-13) in St. Petersburg, Fl. Bitcoin St. Petersburg Bowl (2014)

Basically every name the St. Pete Bowl has ever been known by, other than the current one. We swore this game would never top being sponsored by a faux-Irish restaurant that cannot use apostrophes correctly, a USB device, and invisible internet money ... and yet ...

2. Poulan Weed Eater Independence Bowl (1991-97) in Shreveport

For decades, this was the go-to example anyone would use when listing off consolation-prize games or complaining about there being too many bowls. Saying “the Poulan Weed Eater Bowl” just does not happen, unless the speaker is making fun of something about bowl season.

This name became so synonymous with the idea of an embarrassing bowl trip that, 19 years after it’d changed, then-Houston head coach Tom Herman summoned it to mock rival SMU.

If you're satisfied with going 7-5 and going to the Poulan Weed Eater Bowl, then great. Then you're in the wrong program and we'll find a place for you to go. I hear there's a private school up in Dallas that's really looking to try to get to seven wins.

(Herman then lost an upset to that private school, proving the mere mention of the Poulan Weed Eater Bowl lowers one’s talent levels.)

Topping the legendary Poulan Weed Eater Bowl was something I never thought I’d see happen in my lifetime. This was the 47-game Oklahoma win streak of terrible bowl names ... and yet ...

1. The Bad Boy Mowers Gasparilla Bowl (2017-) in St. Petersburg

The St. Pete Bowl is the absolute god of incredible names. If the entire top five of this list was nothing but St. Pete Bowl names, no one could complain.

This one is so good that it was hard to believe it was real, despite one of the sport’s best reporters breaking the news. He had to circle back and announce on Twitter that he was not kidding.

It’s not fake news: St. Pete Bowl really has been renamed Bad Boy Mowers Gasparilla Bowl. Really! https://t.co/fcxi8GKyeI

— Brett McMurphy (@Brett_McMurphy) August 18, 2017

Is this brand as midlife-crisis-y as it sounds? Oh hell yeah it is.

Even better: the game brought to you by lawnmowers IS PLAYED ON FAKE GRASS IN A BASEBALL STADIUM. Fake grass THAT USED TO BE SOME OF THE WORST TURF YOU’VE EVER BEHELD. The game’s sponsor is completely useless within its own stadium. Diabolical.

The greatest thing about the St. Petersburg Bowl is no longer a thing. Mourn with us. https://t.co/AqbQpXw6kp

— SB Nation CFB (@SBNationCFB) April 1, 2017

What’s a “Gasparilla?”

Well, you see, Tampa has an annual event (about a month after this bowl game) called the Gasparilla Pirate Fest.

gasparillapiratefest.com

OK, but what’s a “Gasparilla?”

Per Wikipedia:

The theme of the Gasparilla Festival was inspired by the local legend of José Gaspar, a Spanish naval officer who turned to piracy. [...] Despite this colorful history, there is no evidence that a pirate named Gaspar or Gasparilla ever operated off the Florida coast. [...] In fact, researchers have found no contemporaneous records either in Spain or the United States that mention Gaspar's existence, and no physical evidence of his presence in Florida has ever been uncovered.

To sum up: the bowl that was mostly known for ugly fake grass is now brought to you by a totally unnecessary lawnmower company that is CERTIFIED BADASS, BABY and has the same name as Diddy’s record label, all in honor of a pirate who might not’ve been real and who definitely had nothing to do with Tampa, St. Petersburg, colleges, football, lawnmowers, Bitcoin, USB connectors, Steamy Queso ‘O’ Poppers, or bowl games.

That’s one of the dumbest sentences ever typed, and I could not possibly love this sport more.

Wanna make your own? Here you go.

We threw a ton of bowl names into a computer and had AI generate a bunch of fake names:

(function() { var l = function() { new pym.Parent( 'change-me-in-the-spreadsheet__graphic', 'http://ift.tt/2jCFMfN'); }; if(typeof(pym) === 'undefined') { var h = document.getElementsByTagName('head')[0], s = document.createElement('script'); s.type = 'text/javascript'; s.src = 'http://ift.tt/1QAi0MN'; s.onload = l; h.appendChild(s); } else { l(); } })();

[opedguy]

Susan Rice Back in the Spotlight

LOS ANGELES (OnlineColumnist.com), April 5, 2017.--Back in the spotlight at the center of spying allegations on the Trump campaign, 52-year-old former National Security Advisor Susan Rice denied that she leaked information to the press.  “I leaked nothing to nobody, and never have,” Rice told Democrat-friendly MSNBC.  Denying that she unmasked names of Trump campaign officials “for any political purpose” or spying purposes, Rice cleverly didn’t deny that she unmasked the names of Trump campaign associates. Only that she didn’t do it for political purposes.  Rice tainted her credibility as U.N. Ambassador Sept. 16, 2012 when she made the rounds on Sunday morning talk shows insisting the Sept. 11, 2012 Benghazi, Libya attack on the U.S. mission that killed Amb. Chris Stevens and three other Americans were due to spontaneous rioting.  Rice knew at the time, as did former President Barack Obama, that it was a carefully planned terrorist attack.

            Less than two months before the 2012 presidential election, White House officials worried about the fallout from the Benghazi terrorist attack on the election.  Former GOP nominee Mitt Romney hoped to capitalize on Obama’s feckless terrorist policy before the Nov. 4, 2012 election.  Rice helped White House officials defuse any political damage by attributing the attack to spontaneous rioting due to a controversial video defaming the Koran.  It took a House Select Committee on Benghazi led by Rep. Trey Gowdy (R-S.C.) months before he unmasked the al-Qaeda attack that killed U.S. diplomatic personnel. Rice’s blunder on national TV talk shows cost her consideration for Secretary of State.  Because the National Security Advisor requires no Senate confirmation, Obama stuck Rice in that position.  Recent revelations about unmasking Trump associates raise disturbing questions.

            With Intelligence committees in the House and Senate investigating whether the Trump campaign coordinated with the Kremlin to beat former Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton, the focus has now shifted o potentially illegal spying on Trump and his associates.  When FBI Director James Comey testified before the House Intelligence Committee March 20, he admitted that the Trump campaign was under surveillance since last July.  Comey didn’t admit to the House Intel committee he started his investigation on Hillary opposition research conducted by former MI6 agent Chrstopher Steele. Steele’s file contained unverified dirt on Trump for political purposes.  Comey received Steele’s dossier from Trump-detractor Sen. John McCain (R-Az.), who got it from Hillary’s campaign Chairman John D. Podesta, whose hacked emails embarrassed the campaign.

            Rice’s denials of using intel on Trump and his campaign associates aim to protecting herself and former President Barack Obama. “This is not anything political as has been alleged,” Rice told MSNBC.  “The allegation is that somehow Obama Administration officials utilized intelligence for political purposes.  That is absolutely false,” making the same emphatic denials she made to the media right after the Benghazi attacks.  When you consider that Hillary was calling Trump a “Russian puppet” before the election, her campaign was actively pursuing Podesta’s theory that Trump & Co. had colluded with the Russians.  “The intelligence community made the determination whether the identity of that American individual could be provided to me,” Rice admitted. Obama administration officials insist that Trump’s associates were part of legal “incidental” intel collection efforts.

            As National Security Advisor, it’s doubtful Rice would have been involved directly in “unmasking” activities, especially obtaining the names of U.S. citizens under “incidental” surveillance.  I receive those reports, as did each of those other officials, and there were occasions when I would receive a report when a U.S. person was referred to.  Name not provided, just U.S. person,” Rice admitted, showing, as NSA, she was involved for some reason at the analyst level, something highly unusual for someone in her position.  “And sometimes in that context, in order to understand the importance of the report and understand its significance, it was necessary to find out who that U.S. person was,” said Rice, admitting she knew the identities of “unmasked” U.S. citizens subject to incidental intel collection activities.

            Rice provides enough information about unmasking the identities of U.S. citizens to know that she was heavily involved in the White House’s attempts to monitor Trump and his associates during the campaign.   If Comey started to investigate Trump and associates last July based on unverified Hillary opposition research, there must have been more probable cause than a bogus dossier.  Rice insists the Obama White House didn’t abuse the intel community to help Hillary discredit Trump before the Nov. 8, 2016 election.  House Intel Chairman Rep. Devin Nunes (R-Calif.) confirmed that the Trump campaign was under surveillance by the intel community for issues unrelated to alleged collusion with Russian President Vladimir Putin. If Rice unmasked identities of U.S. citizens tied to the Trump campaign, there’s no possible explanation other than using intel for political purposes.

About the Author  

John M. Curtis writes politically neutral commentary analyzing spin in national and global news. He’s editor of OnlineColumnist.com and author of Dodging The Bullet and Operation Charisma.