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moonlitstoriess · 1 year ago

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Across the Universe-ch.1 (Azriel x reader, eventual Fenrys x reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terassen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

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A/n: hey everyone! so this is my first work on here and I just hope you will enjoy it. Please do not hesitate to comment whether you like it/want more of it or if you have some good constructive criticism to give! I will give some clarifications at the end of this chapter as to not give away any spoilers beforehand:)

Being a female Illyrian with wings was never meant to be easy. Growing up and not knowing your parents was perhaps the greatest pain a child could endure. Especially if that child grows up in a cruel place like the Illyrian camps. For the first 20 years of her life, y/n knew nothing but pain, mistreatment and hatred as she spent her youth at the cruel hands of an old Illyrian bastard. Of course, what y/n went through was never kept as a secret but it is not like anyone cared anyway. This was Illyria, the mistreatment of females was not a surprise. In fact, the vile monsters who called themselves warriors, encouraged it.

And just like any other female unlucky enough to be born in Illyria and have wings, y/n had to get her wings clipped. Even after all those years, that moment that changed everything for y/n is still so vivid in her mind...

The leaves in the forest crunched as his boots kept stepping on them while dragging her through the maze of trees.

"Please, please I beg you do not take my wings!"

He kept on ignoring her. She called him a 'He' because y/n would never willingly say his disgusting name. Not when he was the cause of all her trauma and illnesses. She kept thrashing, begging and trying to get away but it was useless.

"I beg yo-"

Her words were cut short as a slap was delivered to her face.

"Shut you mouth! you useless bitch"

She never begged. No, y/n was strong, even then, at her weakest she was strong. She never begged. Not when he would burn her hands, not when he would whip her back, not when he would beat her up because she forgot to do a chore. But now she begged. She begged for her only form of freedom, her precious wings. At that moment y/n knew what had to be done. This was the last straw.

"Stay like that on your knees and do NOT move, or else you won't like the consequences."

As he turned around to search for his tools, y/n sat there on the ground in the middle of this dark forest just outside the outskirts of the village and knew she could not go down like those before her. For 20 years she submitted to his every will but not now, not again. Weak coward is what she has been and now it was time to change that.

When he turned around, y/n was holding her only form of protection, her pocket knife that she would always hide under her clothes. When he was close enough, y/n gave a final prayer to the mother and attacked him with a sloppy move that would result in either her freedom or death.

"It is time to truly make you bound to me you bi-"

He did not get to finish his words as the knife he did not see in the dark, found its mark in his throat. Crimson red blood was everywhere as that monster choked on his own blood like a damn fool and finally, slumped to the ground.

The rest? Well, the rest became history as y/n left that night with his blood still soaking her own clothes and body and his fresh corpse laying on the ground. She would never let anyone ever dictate her life again. Never would she be weak again. And so, for the next 80 years of her life, y/n went from one place to another and taught herself how to fight and be like a warrior. Her name began spreading around like wildfire, as people started talking of the Illyrian female who not only managed to keep her wings but also killed her abuser.

She helped hundreds, by recruiting victims of different horrible events and teaching them how to fight and protect themselves. Y/n became a legend especially in the eyes of female Illyrians who tried to follow her lead. This was also the reason why y/n one day opened her door to see the High Lord of the Night Court waiting for her. The smile on Rhysands face was blinding as he praised y/n while also telling her about how it was a dream of his to get rid of the old Illyrian traditions and rules set against the females. It was on that eventful day that the High Lord also offered y/n to join his court and make a very impactful visit to Illyria after all these years to help him make those changes.

At the time, it was a huge step for y/n as she delegated her role as a trainer to her first-best student who was more than honored to continue y/n's job in the training academy. When she came to Velaris she was in awe of its beauty and comfort. The inner circle welcomed her with open arms and although y/n was a little distant at first, she soon got along well with everyone and especially Cassian as they trained daily together. It was also the time when the first seeds of her crush on Azriel were planted.

Therefore, by the age of 100, y/n was an official member of the night court, a legendary figure who started to make her changes during her visits to the Illyrian camps. This time, she went in not as a weakling, but as a feared and well-respected fighter, female and most of all, Illyrian. But even with all of the fierce titles that she got, y/n still felt like turning into a small, shy and meek girl whenever Azriel was around. Rhysand sending them together on constant missions did nothing to ease her increasing infatuations with the famed shadowsinger either.

Unfortunately, they got closer during the darkest of times when Rhysand sacrificed himself to protect his court and city from Amarantha. It was then that, Azriel and y/n shared their deepest, most raw and intimate moments with one another while also doing their best to protect the city in which they were locked in thanks to Rhysands wards. Those moments were what led y/n to confess her true feelings to the spymaster during the 4th year of what would be Amarantha's 50 year reign of terror. After that day, they truly became lovers in all aspects that mattered. Even though that unmistakable bond of a mate did not appear, y/n knew it was only a matter of time before they both felt it. There was no other way.

Today, sitting here on her lovers chair in his office, y/n felt proud of herself and her loved ones for overcoming so much. Rhysand and Feyre under the mountain, the war against Hybern, Nesta and Elain becoming high fae, and the attack on Velaris all left many scars both visible and invisible on everyone. Knowing that everyone has finally found some form of happiness and that her lover is safe with her should have made y/n happy, excited even. But as of late, she could not bring herself to feel anything because Azriel was not the male she once knew.

For a very long time now, the shadowsinger has been distancing himself from y/n in favor of spending more time with a specific redheaded priestess, Gwyneth. What was once called the hour of reading by y/n and Az in the comfort of their home, turned into reading with Az and Gwyn in the library. Even during training, Gwyn would respectfully decline y/n or anyone elses offers to train her and would instead ask Azriel to teach her. He would always happily oblige, leaving y/n alone as Cassian trained with Nesta. At first, y/n tried to understand and reason by thinking that since Azriel was the one to save the priestess from facing a terrible fate in the library of Sangravah, it was only fair that she felt safe around him. However, the other priestesses were also saved by Azriel, Cassian and Rhysand and yet, y/n never saw them be as clingy as Gwyn was towards Azriel.

The final nail in the coffin came when Azriel started coming home late and locking himself up in his office and leaving early in the morning. This meant that y/n never saw her lover, let alone kissed or made love to him. That is how it led to her finally coming to his office to wait for him and get some answers to her questions.

"Y/n? W-what are you doing here?"

That slightly nervous voice drew her back into reality as y/n looked back from the window showing the beautiful city, to see Azriel standing in the doorway with dishelved hair and a sort of scared look in his eyes, no matter how much he tried to not show it, y/n knew him like the back of her hand. Being together for 52 years does that to you. This was not a good sign then, for Azriel never showed such a shameful expression and his shadows were nowhere in sight.

As y/n got up from the chair and started walking towards him, her mind and soul clinged onto that last thread of hope that the male whom she loved was not unfaithful to her, that he would explain everything and she would see that she was making silly little assumptions out of nothing.

Unfortunately, all that hope came crashing down as y/n got close enough to him and smelled that scent of another female, that scent that belonged to...Gwyn. And if the small dark marks that were peeking above the spymasters shirt were any indicator, they did more than just read together.

Y/n felt like she was drowning, like a huge mountain just crashed down on her and she was left under all that rubble to suffocate and die. She was frozen in her spot, unfeeling and unmoving as she felt her body shut down completely. Clearly, this only meant that she would shatter soon enough but not here, not in front of him. Never would she ever be weak infront of any male. And so, with a voice that conveyed no emotion, she asked, "How long?"

"Y/n ple-"

"How long, Azriel."

Azriel sighed as he looked anywhere but at her when he said, "Since the first time Nesta brought her to train with us."

"But that was 2 years ago."

After seeing him nod very slightly, she reigned in her tears that were burning the backs of her eyes, and asked one simple question,

"Why?"

Now it was the shadowsingers turn to look as emotionless as he could while saying, "Because she is my mate y/n."

Mate, mate, mate ofcourse he would have a mate, no matter how many years they were together, neither of them ever felt that bond snap. Foolish, so foolish to think, to hope that they were destined to be, that their bond would snap any moment. But how cruel can one be to hide the truth for 2 years, To go behind her back, even if Gwyn is his mate, and be unfaithful? To not admit the truth as if y/n wouldn't understand. And Gwyn? how could she never once mention it to y/n during all those moments spent together? How, how how..

As if that pain was not enough, Azriel confessed, "I am sorry y/n but truly, did you think we were fated to be? I always knew what we had was temporary, that we were never going to have a happy end as the cauldron would give us both our own mates. My love for you has always only been platonic...have you not noticed that I never once said 'I love you'? I saw you as a friend, a companion in whom I could loose myself for a while as I waited for my mate to come. Truly, you were good, so good to me, kind and caring and yet, so foolish. You imagined and expected too much of us y/n...for you I was a male whom you desperately loved but for me, you were simply someone who I could spend my time with until my mate arrived. I love Gwyn, I have taken her to the house of wind multiple times and made love to her there, I have spent my time understanding and creating as many memories as possible with her. From the moment I saw her 2 years ago when Nesta brought her, I felt this pull towards her and now...now I could never get enough. I do not say this to hurt you, but to make you see the truths that we were never what you wanted us to be."

Y/n took a deep inhale, the only indicator of her emotions at the moment while still processing his words and asked her final question while still staring at the wall behind him, "Who knew?"

Azriel was confused for a minute because after all that he had just confessed, she only asked that? Not to mention how much it was killing him to not understand her current emotions and expressions as y/n stayed completely unflinching, staring at the wall and expecting an answer from him. So, with a shameful sigh, the spymaster replied, "Everyone knew."

At that moment, y/n knew 2 things with clarity. First, never should you trust someone, no matter how close you are with them. Never should you give your heart to someone because in the end, they shall shatter it anyway. In this life, you are always on your own. Y/n has always been alone even after joining Rhys, y/n walked her own lonely road. Second, her "family" were traitorous liars. For the past 2 years as y/n descended back into her depressive moments, as she got flashbacks of those horrible times from her youth spent in the Illyrian village, as her panic attacks and insecurities started to resurface, the inner circle did nothing to pull her out of it. But what else would you expect from them? of course they would protect Azriel and his actions, no matter how disgusti-

"Y/n? please talk to me, I am going mad here with your lack of words and emotions. Please sweetheart." as Azriel's hand made contact with y/n's wrist, it was as if an electric shock brought her back to life.

Y/n slapped him right across the face as she said her next words in a tone so cruel and unfeeling, her enemies did not even hear that tone before meeting their death's at her hands, "If you touch me again, my knife shall find it's mark between your eyes, so unless you do not want to leave your precious mate a widow so soon, I suggest you get the fuck out of my sight, shadowsinger."

"Y/n ple-"

"Oh and, since you are such a loyal dog to him, do tell your rotten high lord that I am leaving his rotten court. I shall be gone by sunrise."

As she turned to leave his office throught he backdoor, Azriel did something that Y/n had never known him capable of doing. He fell on his knees as tears threatened to spill from his eyes and begged in a voice so shaky, y/n could only think whether he was even real.

"Y/n I beg you, let us talk properly, Gwyn kept telling me how I must let you know. That she hates being a secret but I was such a coward I-I..plea-"

"I do not care what Gwyn has to say. Save your tears and pleas for someone who cares Azriel, you are right, you are a coward and perhaps you always were one for playing with my feelings in such a cruel way. Do not come after me or I swear I won't hesitate to end you with my bare hands."

With that, y/n turned her back on the male for whom she would once move the mountains for, for whom she would sacrifice herself for. The male whom she loved so much and yet, this whole time he toyed with her, he saw her as a placeholder. What a blind fool have you been y/n.

The second y/n made sure that Azriel left the house, she broke down in tears. For the first time in a very long time, y/n cried unstoppable tears. But that moment came to an abrupt end as she heard a voice. Whether it was within her mind or from somewhere else she did not know and did not care because even though the voice sounded so far away, she got this immediate urge within her soul to go find it.

Deep down, y/n knew she should let it be, that she is possibly imagining things and that she should start packing now but that urge within her tightened as if wanting her to go find the source of the voice. So, with a final wipe of her tears, y/n stood and leapt through her window, spreading her wings and following that string to reach the distant voice.

As y/n began nearing the source of the sound, she realized that it is coming from the house of wind. She should have turned around and left at that second because seeing this house now only brought back Azriels words about how he spent his time here with Gwyn. Atleast that is what the y/n who was not possesed by an urge would do. But alas, this thread only grew stronger within her, leaving her no other choice.

As she began walking down the halls of the house, y/n looked back on all her memories with the inner circle here. Once, those memories would have made her smile fondly but now, they only make her feel anger and disgust. They knew this whole time...such liars, such tra-

No...this could not be it. The urge within her must have been playing a foolish trick because no way was the voice coming from this room. But that urge within her had died down as if finally only the double doors in front of y/n were stopping her from getting to the voice. But this room wasn't just any room. It was the warded room containing all 3 objects of the Trove AND the Book of Breathings.

From here, she could clearly hear the ugly, hissing voice of the book saying, "Welcome, The Terror."

"Why are you hesitating? Open the door child, open it."

As if on cue, the wards around the room disappeared and the doors opened for her. Y/n could only be confused for a second before an unknown power forced her to walk into the area. And there it was, that book sitting on the circular table in the middle of the room, beckoning for her to come closer.

"The Iron Phoenix, you finally came to learn your destiny."

Y/n scoffed as she looked at the silly book from a distance and said, "Did you truly waste my time by making me come to you so that you could spit your nonsense at me? I have enough to deal with already, I do not need another headache from you."

As she turned around to leave, the book hissed loudly, "Do not mock me you fool, I know your deepest secret Winged Fury, a secret so precious not even your once beloved lover knows."

At that, y/n turned around with a shocked expression all over her face and asked, "How? How do you know of it?"

"You can not know more than me, Valkyrie, I am the one who knows it all."

It seems today was the day when y/n had to find out just how little she knows about everything. She had enough, and this stupid book will be the unfortunate one to be the outlet of her emotions. Furious, she took quick strides to reach it as she began, "How dare you?! you call me here to spit nothing of value at me while I just went through the wo-"

A sudden wave of power hit her as y/n felt like she was stuck in one place right in front of the book. Her walls, her mental walls they...they were being melted down as she felt her mind fall into some hypnotic spells.

With a voice so beautiful and eerily soothing, the book says, "Open me, open me Braveheart and see your true destiny."

Somewhere, the last sane part of her was telling y/n that this was wrong, that whatever will happen once she opens the book won't be good. Unfortunately, y/n seemed unable to follow that voice as her fingers made contact with the cover of the ancient book and flipped it open.

The book started flipping its own pages until it landed on the one with language so old, y/n knew that it was not remembered within the past history. Her mouth began moving against her will as she began saying the words on the book in such an experienced manner, it felt as if the ancient object had posessed her.

At some point, y/n could hear distant voices...was that Rhys? Az? Cas? or no, no maybe that is Nesta or another female who is screaming? Y/n could not move, could not think, as if her sole purpose was to finish the spell. She could distantly feel her body loosing its physicality. Was she disappearing? Was she becoming a ghost?

As she was saying the final words of the book, y/n turned around to find everyone from the inner circle in the room trying to get closer to her. Despair was all over their faces but it was Azriels tear striken face that y/n saw for the last time before darkness welcomed her.

"You are home now, Stormbreaker, you are home."

"Now, you shall unfold your true destiny."

With a jolt, y/n shot her eyes open and got up from...was this a grassy hill? as she turned to look behind her, there was a small lake with a white...is that a deer? What is this place? Where was she?

But y/n did not get to explore anything else as she felt the cool edge of a knife press into her throat from behind as a male voice said to her, "You move, you die."

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A/n: Damn this was fun to write! What secret does y/n have? I did leave a very tiny clue on that for anyone who might find it;) Anyway, I know most of you were maybe expecting Az to cheat with Elain but i am a Gwynriel shipper through and through and just could not think of Elain being such a homwrecker. Of course I am pretty sure Gwyn isn't one either butttt just for the sake of plot ya know. This won't be the last time we see the acotar characters as they will appear hopefully in the later chapters. But for now, sit back and watch y/n's new journey in this new world.

#books #fantasy #fanfics #sarah j. maas #throne of glass #acotar #azriel #fenrys moonbeam #Azriel x reader #bookish #a court of thorns and roses #fiction #fenrys x reader #togxacotar

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mariaofdoranelle · 26 days ago

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Look at Us Now - ch. 29

Fic masterlist

Guys it's 3am five hours past my bedtime I'll do the header tomorrow lol

HAPPY FAKE BIRTHDAY @sirius-blacks-official-girl who 100% came up with a fake one to milk this chapter out of me.

JOKING love you Flora this chapter was so overdue I'm actually a little embarassed. But I DID write most of it on my notes app in ubers and in between classes because my studies are killing me so..

Warnings: mentions of inflation

Words: 7k

“The kids did say you have a bug up your ass today,” Fenrys said from his doorstep, somewhere between frowning and laughing at Rowan’s frazzled look.

Perhaps he did. He did snap at the recruits more often today, and it was naive of him to think people wouldn’t notice or comment. Thankfully they had a gap in their schedule this month, hence why he and Fenrys were at Rowan’s and Aelin’s place mid-afternoon on a work day.

Rowan was well aware that soon Maisie and Fleetfoot would arrive like a tornado—one from preschool and the other from daycare—and Aelin… he didn’t even know. What he did know is that she’ll be more willing to talk about whatever she’s going through if Rowan isn’t looking like a truck just ran over him—his current state.

His friend eyed him warily and stepped in. As annoying as Fenrys could be when he assumed his life-of-the-party persona, it didn’t get on Rowan’s nerves like when the man was being perceptive.

He didn’t feel like talking yet and, at that moment, it was hard to tell something more unsettling than when his lifelong friend scanned his soul with bottomless onyx eyes.

“How 's Aelin?”

Rowan didn’t answer. He didn’t know it himself.

Tired.

Those are the only five letters he gets to hear after asking her the same question.

His Fireheart seemed so tired these days, it was hard to discard a depressive episode. He even asked her if she was pregnant when Lorcan joked about it last week, but she said it was unlikely, and Rowan was getting ahead of himself.

He wouldn’t dare hope. It was too soon, and Maisie was a handful already. As much as he wanted more children, they had more things to do before that—actually, just one specific thing that required something shiny to bribe her with.

If Aelin was pregnant, she’d tell him. She told him without any delay and in worse circumstances last time, so he knew she would. What unsettled him was her history of not telling him when she was struggling.

Isn’t this why they parted ways, after all?

Her being too closed off while he was too dumb to pull his head out of his ass and see her? Well, Aelin’s still clinically depressed, and Rowan’s still an idiot—they just have it more under control now.

Instead of explaining his inner turmoil, he said, “Your old room is hers now. You’re getting your shit out of there while I remodel it.”

This being the reason why Fenrys was summoned here in the first place. Rowan needed more room for Aelin, and his ex-roommate’s was five years too late to get the rest of his things.

Fenrys mock-flinched, his hand on his chest in a wounded gesture.

Rowan hardened his expression to get the message across. He wasn’t kidding. For the past years, he’d been asking Fenrys to finish moving out and change his address everywhere that mattered—not only his delivery app.

“I live here with my daughter, and now I’m making room for my…” Girlfriend? The word didn’t feel like enough. “Life partner. I don’t have room for your birth certificate anymore, neither for those old, hideous pants you swear will be trendy again.”

Fenrys squinted at Rowan, common sense fighting the man’s stubbornness until he said, “Fair enough.”

His former roommate whistled when he saw Rowan’s work. “I don’t remember this room being quite this nice, Rowie.”

He shrugged. “That’s just me stress-building.”

Rowan has been not-so-secretly working on a room for Aelin ever since she started showing signs of depression again. He’s keeping it locked so as to not spoil the surprise—she hasn’t commented on it, so neither did he.

It was the very least he could do. They’ve had the conversation where she asked him to take their relationship slow millions of times, and as much as Rowan respected her decision, he didn’t work hard enough to respect this boundary of hers, even if he did know that routine changes can trigger a depressive episode.

Moving in together after barely four months. Who does that?

Rowan used to feel like everything would be fixed if he managed to rekindle his romantic relationship with Aelin. It’s a bitter realization that they’re still the same flawed people that tore each other apart.

He was supposed to be working through and letting go of his guilt, but how could Rowan do that if his failings kept creeping back into the present like this?

But he had furniture to assemble, and that’s what he wanted to focus on for now—at least until he and Aelin could find some time to talk.

Fenrys’ whistle snapped him back into reality.

“A bookcase, huh?”

“Yep.”

His friend smirked. “Because she made you?”

“No, because she’ll like it, and now I’m making you help me with it.“

Fenrys cackled. “I was called to retrieve my things, now I’m helping with the room too?”

Rowan meant business when he texted his friend, but now he was glad Fenrys was here.

“How long will it take to empty half a closet into your car?” Rowan taunted with a raised brow.

A playful sigh while the man unlocked his phone. “I guess Dorian can walk Calvin and Klein alone.”

All of Rowan’s problems evaporated with Aelin’s cheek pressed against his shoulder blades, her arms wrapping his torso from behind while he mixed what was about to become some veggie-loaded chicken nuggets for dinner.

His girls weren’t good at eating their vegetables, but that just meant he needed to be creative at hiding them in the dishes—a practice he mastered a while ago, when Maisie was a toddler.

Aelin leaned on the kitchen island and looked over at where Maisie hung out with Fleetfoot, making a mess under the kitchen table because both parents were too tired to argue.

“Should we have that talk now?” She asked, dreading to leave their frail happy bubble.

“I think we’ve delayed it enough.”

Aelin nodded. “Should I start, or…?”

“Go ahead.”

She detangled herself from him and said to Maisie, “Honey, can you come here for a sec?”

“I can’t! I’m busy playing,” the little girl said without taking her attention off Fleetfoot.

“Maisie,” Rowan dragged out her name in a stern tone, his patience thin with everything going on these days. “Your mother gave you an order.”

His daughter’s spine straightened. Sensing they meant business, she crawled from under the table and approached them with her arms crossed, not quite looking them in the eye.

Rowan had no idea where Maisie learned that grumpiness from. Aelin kissed the top of her head to lighten the mood, a silent sign of appreciation for the reluctant compliance.

She asked, “How’s that teeth looking, hun?”

Maisie was about to lose her first baby tooth, and it’s been quite the event at their home. Aelin was weirdly excited about it, and he let her take the lead in this.

Rowan had barely gotten over her first baby tooth growing—his throat swelled every time he thought too hard about the fact that enough time had passed for her to lose it.

The little girl opened her mouth wide and aaahed obediently.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to pull it out?” Aelin asked while gently wiggling the tooth to inspect it, her body vibrating with the need to yank that tooth off Maisie’s head.

The tooth was—quite literally—hanging by a thread, but Maisie didn’t want to pull it out yet. While parenting sometimes meant ordering, they did their best to honor her consent regarding her own body. Maisie didn’t have the authority to decide when she could brush her teeth, but she’d decide when to yank them off.

On the other hand, there was Aelin. A little butcher lived inside his Fireheart—one that cuts people open for a living—and she was itching to rip that tooth off. If Rowan had any to spare, he’d let her take it off just to see that special glimmer her eyes get when she’s thrilled.

At her mother’s suggestion, Maisie took a step back and frantically shook her head, eyes wide and mouth closed.

“Today at school Bree said she ripped it out too soon because she wanted the money, and it hurt a lot and she only got the money three—” Maisie held up three fingers as close to their faces as possible for emphasis. “days later because the tooth fairy got mad at her for it.”

Aelin’s lips thinned. Rowan couldn’t tell if Sellene was a genius, or if he wanted to throttle her for being behind the reason Maisie was scared to pull out her tooth.

He crouched to reach his daughter’s eye level and explained that her tooth was loose enough, so she wouldn’t be pulling it just for the money. “I’m sure the tooth fairy will understand. I used to yank out my own teeth when I was your age and she never delayed my pay.”

Aelin enthusiastically endorsed everything he said.

“The rules aren’t the same anymore, Daddy.” Maisie frowned, as serious as she could be. “You were a kid, like, at least a hundred years ago. The Tooth Fairy probably had to ride a dinosaur to your house.”

He blinked. Did his five-year-old just call him old? Aelin’s cackle in the background confirmed it.

Mid-thirties wasn’t that old, right?

Rowan went back to making dinner before it got too late, and the girls decided to help him to roll the mixture into a ball and flatten it into a nugget shape.

Aelin continued, “I can write her an email clarifying the situation, how does that sound?”

Maisie took a moment to think, rolling the soon-to-be nugget from hand to hand and nodded. “Can you ask her how much I’ll get? Because she’s not paying the same to my friends at school.”

“The amount she gives you depends on how well you take care of your teeth for her,” Aelin said with a pointed look, the implication about the fact that Maisie doesn’t like to brush her teeth hanging in the air. His Fireheart was a genius.

“How do you know this?” Maisie squinted her eyes at her mom.

“I’m a mom. I know things you don’t.” Aelin nonchalantly shaped the nugget, pretending she wasn’t aware she just posed herself as a mysterious source of wisdom in all things childhood folklore.

“Okay,” Maisie dragged out the word while giving her mom a skeptical look. “Do you know how much she’ll give me?”

“It slipped my mind.” Aelin asked Rowan, “Do you remember it?”

“Huh,” he mused while putting the nuggets into the air fryer. “I’m pretty sure it was $1.”

“$1!? But… but in-flay-shun!” Maisie exclaimed, carefully wording the next word as she struggled to pronounce it.

Inflation coming out the mouth of a 5-year-old. What the hell.

Aelin tried and failed to muffle her laugh into her hand, and Rowan’s eyes bugged out of his skull.

“How on earth do you know what that is?” he asked, wide-eyed.

“Uncle Fen said the Tooth Fairy would give me more money if I said this word,” the little girl said sheepishly.

Of course. Fenrys didn’t bother staying for dinner, but he made sure to bring trouble regardless.

“You wanna add inflation? Let’s calculate this like adults, then. I’m gonna need a piece of paper for this.”

Maisie ran to fulfill her dad’s request, her little body bouncing with excitement when she came back… with her pink dinosaur-themed magnetic doodle board.

That’d do, he supposed.

“Now, the last time I got a raise because of it—“ not that Maisie would know what inflation is and why it made her parents earn a raise, “I got a 9% adjustment, but I’ll add 10% to yours.”

Wide-eyed, Maisie squealed. “I’ll get $11?”

Under his dead body. Sellene laid a good foundation to stop Maisie and Bree from starting a self-mutilation business because of Tooth Fairy, but he didn’t trust his daughter enough to give her this much. When Maisie has money, she’s no better than Scrooge McDuck.

“No, for you it means more 10 cents. You’ll get $1,1.”

The little girl pouted. “Uncle Fen made it sound nicer.”

“Sorry, hun.” Rowan gave her a sympathetic look. “And you know what other thing adults have in their salaries?”

“What?” Maisie asked, sat on the edge of her stool, hands sprawled on the kitchen island with the hopes to cash in more money.

“Taxes.”

“You wouldn’t,” Aelin cut in, her tone low and disbelieving.

“She wants it the adult way.”

“Rowan Whitethorn, you are not taxing Maisie’s tooth money!”

“Would you listen to me before we—” a pause because his big mouth almost ruined Maisie’s childhood, “before we email Tooth Fairy with the final tooth cash decision.”

With a pinch to her nose, she relented, “Go on, then.”

He continued to Maisie, “I pay about 30% in taxes, but I’ll make yours 20% because your income is lower.”

The little girl frowned, sensing she wasn’t gonna like what was coming next—no tax-paying citizen did.

“And according to my calculations, your after-tax tooth income would be about… 88 cents.”

“WHAT?” Maisie shouted, grabbing the doodle board to see it for herself—not that she’d understand the rates and percentages, but it was indeed pretty infuriating stuff.

“So…” Rowan continued, “You can have the adult way with inflation, or you can take the $1 the Tooth Fairy is offering and let your parents take you out for ice cream when the tooth falls.” A brow raise. “What do you want?”

“The adult way sucks. This is why you have grey hair.”

“Maisie,” Aelin reproached, “that’s not nice.”

The timer beeped, telling him it was time to turn the nuggets in the air fryer. “Let’s go set the table, Mais,” Aelin said while he finished cooking.

The gentle rain outside chilled the mid-spring evening, something about the sound of the water falling against the large glass window adding a cozy factor to their dinner night.

They would’ve started eating sooner if Maisie hadn’t decided she’d only eat if her plate was the same color as Fleetfoot’s bowl, so it was another five to ten minutes until they found the girl’s lilac plate and the four of them were all set.

Which didn’t make much of a difference for Aelin, since she was practically pushing her food around.

Rowan tapped her foot with his under the table. “You good?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Not great.” A shrug. “Just a bit bloated. The nuggets are great, though.” Aelin said with a weak smile she put on to soothe his worries. His Fireheart knew him well, but he knew her just as well.

“I’m sorry, Mama. Maybe your tummy needs a nap.”

Rowan relaxed his shoulders, melting. Maisie was such a thoughtful little—

“Are you gonna eat all your nuggets?” she asked, eyeing her mother’s plate as if she could eat the whole table on her own.

Well, she can be exclusively a thoughtful little girl. Right now, she was a thoughtful little girl with ulterior motives.

Aelin’s lips twitched with suppressed laughter. “You do know there’s more in the tray, right?”

“I’m saving them for school tomorrow. Can I eat yours or not?”

Rowan frowned. “Maisie, there’s no need to ration food. We have a full fridge.”

“A full fridge of fruit! Not nuggets,” she said as Aelin gave her two from her plate. The little girl grinned, kicking her feet under the table before she chomped down—

Maisie froze mid-bite, green eyes nearly bulging out of her skull as she sent them a panicked look.

“What happened?”

She grabbed a napkin—thank the gods—and slowly spat the contents of her mouth on it.

“The nugget yanked my wiggly tooth.”

“That’s…” Rowan grabbed the napkin, smiling at the gross mixture of saliva and chewed food that nestled Maisie’s tiny tooth and its even smaller bloody root. “That’s disgusting, actually. Are you okay?”

She nodded, still looking shocked. “I thought it’d hurt more, but it was just a little pop and it was gone.”

“Good. That’s—“

He looked over at Aelin and saw her wipe off a tear. She cupped both hands and asked, “Can I see?”

Rowan handed over Maisie’s soggy napkin, and Aelin’s laugh trembled with emotion. “So gross.” She rounded the table and hugged her very confused kid, who was still sitting.

“I’m so proud of you, Maisy Daisy.”

“Mom, you’re being weird.” A pause. “Are you sad you didn’t yank it?”

“Nope, not sad at all.” Aelin wiped another tear off with her thumb and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “I’m just a little emotional today. Let me be.”

Aelin wasn’t a crier, but Rowan wasn’t either, and he did unexpectedly tear up on Maisie’s first day of school, leaving his estranged co-parent to awkwardly comfort him outside the classroom. When it came to parenting, he stopped judging a few tears a long time ago.

“Let’s get this ready for Tooth Fairy, shall we?”

Aelin opened an upper cabinet, then another box that was inside it, and retrieved delicate-looking pliers.

“Baby, I didn’t know you were still keeping surgery… things around the house.” He hinted at their old disagreement, not wanting to fight with her in front of Maisie.

Aelin has a rather unorthodox way to prepare food—one of the reasons why he took over kitchen duties. She might not know how to season and fry the food well, but that woman can cut and debone meat like a pro. Rowan still wasn’t comfortable about having tools designed to cut flesh and bone anywhere near their very mischievous five-year-old—no matter how well Aelin hid them.

The wave of uneasiness that haunted him today returned—the reminder of how good she is at keeping things hidden when she wants to.

“S’just a Kern Forceps, babe,” she replied with a grin, sprawling her hand over the kitchen island and stabbing it with the instrument, then made a point to show off her unharmed hand to him.

Fine, but this isn’t over, was the message he attempted to send by squinting his eyes at her.

Hours later, he completely forgot to bring it up.

Fleetfoot’s paws against the hall’s wooden floor made Rowan jump, hyper aware of any sounds that came from outside their suite bathroom, where Rowan and Aelin lurked inside, sat on the floor.

Rationally, he knew that the broom that leaned against the outer side of Maisie’s bedroom door—a noise trap—would alert them if she woke up. Still, every noise put him on high alert because of their current, deeply covert activity.

They’d just brushed the two coins with a mixture of detergent and vinegar and rinsed it, now it just needed a bit of polishing and a coat of transparent glitter nail polish to make it look like an authentic Tooth Fairy token.

“Do you think Tooth Fairy would use chunky glitter in her coins? Or you think she’s a subtle-sparkle kind of girl?’

He narrowed his eyes at Aelin. “Explain.”

She sighed with such tiredness as if what she’d said was obvious and painted a sample of each nail polish over a sheet of paper towel. “Our options are: transparent with tiny pink glitter or transparent with silver holographic flakes of glitter.”

“I see…” Rowan hummed thoughtfully, even though he did not see. “Let’s go with… pink.”

When it came to Maisie, pink was always a safe choice–and, as a girl dad, Rowan relied on safe choices.

“I don’t know… I’m just not feeling it with this tiny pink glitter.”

He wondered why she’d even asked. “Of course, I mean…” Rowan took back the sample as if squinting at it would give him any answers. “Well, technically the silvery one has the smaller grooves because the structure allows light to diffract and interfere better. Maybe you think this prismatic iridescence looks more fairytale-ish for the coin?”

Looking up, he faced a heavy-lidded Aelin. She licked her lips. “You know, it’s kinda hot when you remember you have a college degree.”

He grinned and gripped her chin. “I’ll save the dirty talk for later.” He wiggled his brows. “Maybe not.” A gentle, playful kiss. “Maybe you just can’t help yourself around my expertise in optical phys–”

“Alright!” She laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck despite the rude interruption, the softness of her lips spurring his own into action. Four months, and it still struck him stupid every time Rowan took in the fact that he got to old Aelin like this, and the contradiction wasn’t lost in him–how he hadn’t gotten used to being with Aelin, yet she felt like home in such a way that made him feel like both their souls were intrinsically intertwined.

Rowan broke the kiss and bit her lower lip. In retaliation, she nipped the tip of his nose and left a feather-light kiss on his lips. Another. And another. Ever so playful, Aelin left a string of quick pecks that left him chuckling between them, but when she moved to kiss his cheek, he held her face and took hold of the situation.

“I love you.” He was the one to initiate the kiss this time. “I love you so much.”

“Love you.” She held his wrists that cradled her cheeks. “And there’s something I need to tell you.”

When he registered the serious tone in Aelin’s voice, that dark cloud that loomed in his afternoon crept back in.

Rowan’s shoulders slumped, dreading the conversation before them. “I know.”

She reared back. “You know?”

“It’s pretty obvious, don’t you think?”

“It wasn’t obvious to me.” A dark chuckle. “I guess I miss the signs every time, huh?”

Guilt clogged his throat like a rough rock. He looked away and busied his hands with the next task of polishing those two coins, but it didn’t stray his mind from the issue at hand. Aelin had a chronic condition and, as much as she tried to shield her family from it, it was his job to look after her—one he was failing terribly at, despite his efforts.

“Gods!” Aelin got up and left the bathroom, fanning the air in front of her while she ran towards the suite’s open window. Rowan went after her.

His hands were all over her, checking if she was alright. “What happened?”

“Sorry, baby.” She said between slow breaths, a hand on her stomach to steady herself. “I didn’t know that polish would smell so bad.”

“It’s okay. I can do it somewhere else. Or we can not do it. Why would Tooth Fairy’s coins look so shiny with all the traveling she does, anyway?” He kissed her forehead. “This is a symptom too?”

Aelin’s been struggling with nausea as a withdrawal symptom after switching from her previous antidepressant to a new one, and things were looking pretty bad. Maybe strong scents triggered it?

She nodded. “It is.”

Rowan took a deep, pained breath. “I can’t help but think that the reason behind all this is my fault.”

A snort. “It’s definitely your fault.”

He grimaced. “I’m so sorry, I…” Rowan crossed his arms and looked out the window while he said, “I made something to cheer you up. It won’t make that much of a difference in the big picture, but I hope you’ll… you know… cheer up.”

“Okay.” She ran a hand from his shoulder down his arm, until their fingers were intertwined. “Show me.”

He grabbed the key and led her out of the room into the one they shared a wall with, Fenrys’ old bedroom.

“You made a renovation? Is this why you kept this door locked?” Aelin said, suspicion coating her tone as she studied him with narrowed eyes.

“It’s not ready yet,” Rowan defended his work before she even saw it, anticipating a poor reaction.

“It’s too soon to even start thinking of a new room, Buzzard.”

She hadn’t even finished moving in, but doing it felt right. He said so to her.

“And before I even told you anything. You were really sure of your… potency, weren’t you?”

“It’s kind of my job to read the signs, isn’t it?” Rowan said as he opened the door and turned the lights on.

Rowan would love to brag and say that he did a full renovation, but it’d be a lie. He’d just emptied most of it out and filled it with things Aelin would appreciate—not that figuring that out was a hard task. A floor-to-ceiling bookcase that took over an entire wall became mandatory ever since Maisie got the idea that a couple of walls at her mother’s house were made of books instead of bricks. Another wall just for books, but this one got interrupted by the window, which he took advantage of to get a dark blue couch and make it a ‘reading nook’, as some folks on the internet call it. Apart from that, he just got a new desk—that matches the bookcases, since Aelin cares about this stuff—and fully emptied out Fenrys’ closet, since Rowan would have to own a total of half a shirt to make the one in the master room fit all of her stuff, from several work uniforms to the cocktail attire she wears once in a blue moon.

Rowan was pointedly not looking at Aelin, and taking a second look at his work could only distract him so much from the fact that she was awfully quiet. Shit. Did he not get enough bookcases? Rowan was afraid that might happen.

When he dared take a look, her expression put him off. Aelin’s eyes looked unusually shiny, and her chin wobbled in a way that sent a jolt of fear through him.

“I got the wrong shade of wood, didn’t I?”

“No! Baby, I love it.” Her chin wobbled. “I love it so much. Everything, really. It’s just…” she quickly dabbed at her eyes with her fingers and cleared her throat. “Sorry, hormones.”

Aelin finally looked him in the eye and said, “I just had other plans for this room.”

“Like what?”

She stared at him like he was the one being unreasonable. “Like a nursery, Rowan.”

In a way, she was right. Eventually, when the time was right, they’d need a nursery. But right now, they had an empty room and a lot of books in need of one.

“I know.” Rowan squeezed her hand, a flicker of excitement running through him at the mention of his future with Aelin. “But we have time before that.”

“Does less than seven months feel like a long time to you?”

Rowan felt his brows creasing. Less than seven—

His eyes widened.

The speed in which he took a step back to examine the seriousness in Aelin’s expression was nothing compared to his heartbeat’s pace.

“You’re not.”

“Rowan, you just told me it was pretty obvious—not ten minutes ago.”

“I was talking about depression!”

“Depression!?”

Rowan paused. Tentatively, he added, “Your depressive episode…?”

“Honey, why on earth would you think I’m depressed?”

“You’ve been so tired.”

She pointed at her lower belly. “Exactly.”

“And you changed all your medication.”

“Exactly!”

Rowan blinked.

Oh, shit.

He took a step back. And another.

“Rowan? Are you alright?”

Not again. He was absolutely not doing this shit again. Blindly, he opened the door behind him.

“Rowan Whitethorn, you are not leaving this room right now. This is so not the response you’re giving me after I tell you I’m preg—“

“Wait. Just—” he gave her a pleading look “—wait a minute. You didn’t tell me anything yet.”

She crossed her arms, eyes hard. “I’m pretty sure I did.”

“You want to trust me with this. You didn’t tell me anything yet. You’ll agree with me when I come back.”

“You have five minutes to put yourself together before I kick you out for the night.” When Aelin checked the time on her phone, her movements were as stiff as her jaw.

And then he ran.

First to the garage, where the ladder was. He did stumble over a box or two and made too much noise for the late hour, but Aelin’s clock was running. Then, he took it to their bedroom, thankful that she decided to stay in the spare room for what he was about to do.

Rowan set the ladder next to the curtain and climbed it until he could reach the top. He unscrewed the finial at the very end and checked the curtain pole—more precisely, the jewelry baggie he hid inside it. There, laid the not-so-new possession that could bankrupt a small country—or at least Rowan’s bank account.

After that, he kneeled before the bottom of his closet and retrieved the red velvet ring box, since it didn’t fit inside the curtain rail. Rowan had no idea how Aelin believed him when she learned he was using a fancy jewelry box to keep his spare keys, but he was glad the small white lie worked in his favor.

When you share a closet with someone as clever as his Fireheart, doing a task such as hiding a wedding ring forces the mind to chew through its own skull to gouge out creativity.

Checking his phone, his five minutes were almost out.

Once again, Rowan ran. He yanked the bedroom door open, and took a sharp turn to meet her by the couch where she sat. However, the mix of his speed, spin and fuzzy mind was the perfect combination to send him tumbling towards the ground before he reached her.

“Rowan!” she shouted as soon as his hip hit the floor, standing up to aid him.

“Stay there,” he said with one hand up and another clutching at his side as he sat on the floor, wincing at the bite of pain.

She stood before him as he commanded, but still studied him carefully, watchful. “Does it hurt?”

“It 's nothing.”

“Honey, you need to be more careful. Your bones aren’t getting any stronger at this age.”

A bark of laughter. “Did you just call me old?”

She shrugged. “Just statistics.”

Rowan abandoned his post-fall sitting position and got on one knee, retrieving the small velvet box from his sweatpants’ pocket, heart on his throat.

When he dared to glance at her, Aelin looked exactly the same as she did a second ago—frozen as a picture. Her lack of reaction freaked him out, but it was too late to retreat.

“Aelin,” he started, then swallowed the lump in his throat. He tried again, “My beloved Fireheart…”

Her mind must’ve catched up with her surroundings, because she straightened herself and stared at him expectantly.

Rowan’s mind went blank.

“Is it a surprise that I’ve kept this ring for months, but couldn’t come up with a speech?”

She shook her head to confirm her lack of surprise, giggling, but it was cut short. “Months?” she asked, frowning. “How many months? We’ve been together for four.”

“Fireheart,” he continued and cleared his throat, not willing to answer her.

His nerves got the best out of him and he let out a frazzled chuckle. “This is so soon.”

“Time’s a social construct, no need to restrict ourselves to that.” Aelin aimed at a joke, but the emotion welled in her close-lipped smile betrayed the levity behind it.

Rowan placed a brief kiss on her knuckles. “I have this… longing for you. It’s soul-consuming, and there’s no time barriers to it. I’ve longed for you since before I met you. I longed for you when you hated me, I long for you every hour you’re not by my side. But right now, even together, ‘longing’ doesn’t even scratch the surface of how I feel about marrying you—which is why I’m beginning to accept that it won’t ever stop. The more this yearning shifted from an emotion I once ran from into one I now cherish, the more certain I became that this longing for you is my fate, Aelin.”

He supported the hand still holding the box on his knee and leaned to grab Aelin’s hand with his free one. With his eyes closed, Rowan summoned the endless reverence he felt and poured it into kissing her knuckles, head bent.

He looked back up and, without releasing her hand, continued, “I might not be the best man you’ll ever find, but I’m the one who’ll try the hardest to do right by you. I love you. All day, every day. I loved you when I couldn’t tell love was right in front of my face—but now that I know it, there’s no limit to what I can give to you, no time I need. Even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you.”

“Fireheart, will you allow me the honor of becoming your husband, to serve and love you for as long as I live?”

A quick blinking and the slight, soundless motion of her agape mouth were the only tells she was conscious.

The short air supply he was getting was probably the reason behind his lightheadedness. If this stretched for any longer, he might need a heart monitor and a cardiologist before Aelin gave him an answer.

Rowan cleared his throat. “...Please?”

It took a second longer before she snapped awake. “Don’t say that!”

Rowan begged Mala this wasn’t a ‘no’. He might need an ambulance for real.

“Don’t say what?”

“Please!”

“Please what?”

“Don’t say that!”

Rowan frowned. Her cryptic blank expression was easier to understand than this. “Why are you mad?”

“Because of course I’ll marry you! Saying ‘please’ is just—that’s ridiculous.” Aelin said while dropping to her knees before him, then yanked his face to hers and kissed his lips in a near-violent caress. “I—” Another aggressive peck. “—I love you so much. I’ll marry you a million times over.”

Ease came before joy—Rowan’s entire body relaxed. He wished he could give her a post-proposal movie-worthy kiss, but it wouldn’t work with all that relief rushing out of his lungs and mouth right now.

“Good,” he said, nodding. “Good.” While putting the ring on her finger, he joked, “That was just a formality, actually. It’s not like I’m letting you go anywhere, love.”

She laughed. “So possessive.”

“You better think this through, Fireheart. I won’t get any better once I make you my wife.”

She let out a mocking resigned sigh. “I guess I can live with that.”

Aelin’s new reading nook had enough space for one and a half to cuddle, so she led him there, made him lay down first and set herself on top of him. She hovered over him, forearms braced on each of his side, and it only took him half a mind to cup her face and kiss her.

His entire existence narrowed to Aelin, her thighs straddling his and their tongues tangled as his chest heated and melted, overwhelmed with one of the most vital half-hour spans of his life.

Their millionth kiss. The first of the rest of their lives, executed as urgently as if it was their last.

He loved her.

Aelin caressed his cheek and peered at him, eyes shiny and her gorgeous, swollen lips twisted into a watery smile. That look on her face—it made him more silly than any love declaration she could ever make.

They held each other’s gazes in a silent conversation, soliloquies and odes and oaths translated into the flow of photons that passed between them and allowed the conversation between turquoise and pine-green irises.

She stroked his cheek and something caught her eye. Aelin giggled.

“You’re quite the decent jewel shopper, Whitethorn.” She kept smiling at her ring, then laid her head on his chest to comfortably move the diamond on her finger and watch it catch the light.

Rowan was merely window-shopping wedding rings—a pastime he did to try to resist the urge to buy one when it was soon—when he saw it. An emerald cut diamond, as they call it, with an extravagance in its size that balanced the tastefully minimalistic design.

“You know I’d marry you if you proposed with a cereal box ring, right? I had my answer ready before you bought this tectonic plate.”

Rowan snorted. And she had the gall to say that he was the dramatic one in this relationship.

This engagement.

Truth was, Rowan knew he didn’t have to—the way he gleefully mangled his savings shocked him more than the price itself.

He’s always had the habit of saving money, but even though it was natural for him, there’s always been plans for it as well. The list grew and changed as Rowan did, going from buying gym supplements—that he hid from his mother—in his teenage years to buying a house once free military housing isn’t an option for him anymore, and it was safe to say that spending so much—an amount that symbolized enormous time and effort from him—into an overpriced stone has never made it into the list.

Until her.

That was just a small one of the several ways Aelin changed his life and worldview.

Rowan kissed the top of her head. “I only care that you’re my wife now.”

“I’m not!” she said, laughing.

“You are. We already agreed to it, and I don’t think letting the government know is more important than that.”

“I’m glad I enjoyed my half-hour engagement, then. Shortest in history, if I had to bet.”

“I told you I’m not good with the timing thing.” Rowan didn’t sound apologetic in the least.

Aelin chuckled and buried her face in his chest, grinning against it. His body was half into cozy mode when she perked up, jumping in a way that she was still side-lying, but now with her forearm supporting her torso raised beside him.

“Oh! There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Okay?” Rowan’s tone portrayed his confusion.

It took her a second as she regarded him while biting her lip before Aelin said, “I’m pregnant.”

His grin was slow and immediate. “By Mala’s embers!” Rowan exclaimed, feigning surprise. And then he decided to just blatantly go with it and added, “What a surprise!”

Aelin threw her head back, her loud cackles filling the room in the most overwhelmingly fulfilling way.

When she first told him, Rowan felt frustrated he didn’t get to execute the plan of marrying her before getting pregnant again, hence his odd first reaction. However, now he realized how silly that was, even if he still appreciated Aelin pretending to tell him after.

Emotion melted his features into a soft smile. “A really damn good surprise.”

“We didn’t plan for it.”

“We also weren’t actively avoiding it.” A pregnancy so soon was surprising, but Rowan wasn’t about to play dumb. They did treat condoms as an afterthought to the point in which it was just a matter of time. Especially with their frequency, he recalled with no amount of male satisfaction. “Maisie was a surprise too, and having her is pretty amazing, right?”

“Yes,” she said with a chuckle. “And Maisie was a whole different level of unplanned.”

Having a baby (1) with a man she worked with, (2) that she wasn't supposed to be sleeping with, (3) while being in a relationship with another man—Rowan didn’t think a baby could be more unplanned than Maisie, and look at them now.

She hummed. “I might be getting on birth control after this one. I don’t want to be that couple with 11 surprise babies that weren’t really a surprise.”

“Gods,” he cursed while protectively holding her belly. “Will you at least let this one come out before deciding on the sperm cell genocide?”

Aelin’s quivering lips betrayed her seriousness. “I mean it.”

“All right, no 11 kids. Got it,” he agreed, as serious as he could be. “But if you want twelve, I can make it to major before kid #5. That’s a big paycheck, baby.”

She bumped his nose. “In your dreams, Not-A-Major Whitethorn.”

“You think I’m joking?” he challenged, joking. “Just you wait until the 12th Galathynius-Whitethorn comes and I’m lieutenant colonel. I’ll fit 12 more in my pocket.”

Aelin leaned down to kiss him, but it got messy due to their laughing, so they resigned to a few pecks.

“I love you,” she said, placing a trail of kisses on his lip, cheek and nose.

“I love you.” Rowan tilted her face and kissed her thoroughly now that the mood had sobered. “And two or twelve, you call the shots.”

She raised her brows. “I never thought I wouldn’t.”

Mala forbid a man tries to show some support.

A loud clatter echoed over the silent house, alerting both of them, and it sounded a lot like the broom they placed outside Maisie’s door as a noise trap.

A softer, squeaky sound followed, the confirmation they needed—the typical sound of a door hinge that was purposefully left unoiled.

Maisie was awake.

Both of them jumped off the couch to find Maisie in the hallway, right outside their bedroom.

“Did you have a bad dream, Mais?” Rowan asked.

She looked between their bedroom door and the spare room’s, likely confused about their location, but she had more pressing matters to discuss.

“Tooth fairy is late.”

Shit. Between a new baby and the proposal, he completely forgot about it.

“Maisie,” Aelin warned in her soft mom tone. “Were you trying to catch Tooth Fairy?”

“No,” the little girl blatantly lied.

Rowan walked into her room and found a stolen Alexa from the kitchen. When he opened his phone to check the history? A request to be woken up in the middle of the night.

“Tooth Fairy isn’t late, you wanna know why?” Aelin asked their sheepish-looking daughter. “When she visits kids, she starts with the ones who don’t make a fuss when it’s time to brush their teeth—and you, Maisie Whitethorn, are at the very bottom of the list.”

The little girl’s eyes widened, as she probably reconsidered the last five and a half years of her life—or whatever she could remember of it.

“But she’ll still come tonight, right?”

Aelin regarded their overeager daughter and softened. “Of course she will,” she confirmed with the satisfaction of someone who not only got away with their own slip, but also turned it into a learning opportunity for Maisie.

Evil genius.

He couldn’t wait to marry her.

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dracaeons · 5 months ago

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Sweet. It seemed so strange, to be able to revel in simple sweetness; for so long, their lives had been marked by violence, or urgency. An end of the world; a city on the edge of a knife. The Chantry, breathing down all their necks. Fenris could hardly believe it, most days. ❝ Nothing pressing, ❞ he said, and that too was a marvel in and of itself. It was sweet, in and of itself, to be able to say it. It spurred him onward, chasing it, to steal one more kiss from Willa. ❝ Was there something you had in mind? ❞

Willa smiled into his kiss and though it was tempting, fought the urge to bring him even closer. Best to stay on track, and not get sidelined by dangerous games. Though if that was all the danger they faced, now, she would be fully content. When they did part, she pressed an added kiss to the corner of his mouth before answering. ❝ Not terribly long, ❞ Willa said slowly. ❝ And you looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you. ❞ She reached up with her hand - she still forgot, sometimes, that it was now her only one - to trace the top of his cheekbone, face thoughtful. ❝ Do we have any plans today? ❞

#chanticle #ch; willa hawke #ic ;; FENRIS #>:)

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rockandroar · 2 months ago

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New page is up!

#rock and roar #webcomic #animal characters #original character #classic rock #rock #80s

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erisweekofficial · 9 months ago

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Fanfic

Rancor and Risotto: La Salade (Azris) by @born-to-riot

With This Ring (Azris) by @chairofchaos and @ninthcircleofprythian

take my turn (to burn and burn) (Azris) by @fourteentrout

The Night Court Lounge Ch2 (Azris) by @jules-writes-stories

The Clause (Eris x Elain) by @acourtofladydeath

First Words (Eris x OC) by @afandomangel

Dawn Breaks Early (Eris x OC) by @avabrynne

A Court of Scales and Fire V (Eris x OC) by @azrielsshadows

Light the Fire Bright Chapter 7 (Eris x OC) by @clockwork-ashes

Tear the World Apart (Eris x OC) by @cressidagrey

Hold Me While You Wait Part 1 (Eris x OC) by @fieldofdaisiies

Worms, Worms, Worms (Eris x Reader) by @daycourtofficial

Of Our Own Devices — Part Seven (Eris x Reader) by @illyrianbitch

Do not disturb (Eris x Reader) by @lady-of-tearshed

Lesser Evils by @foxcourt

Sleepy (Eris x Reader) by @littlest-w01f

Hold (Eris x OC) by @littlest-w01f

Move me, Baby (Eris x Reader) by @surieltea

One Day (Eris x Reader) by @mcuamerica

drip drop, gimme what you got (Azris) by @mudandmire

Crown (Neris) by @rose-of-the-grave

miracle fix (Eris x Reader) by @throneofsapphics

waiting (Neris) by @westrangecollectionkoalaposts

Again (Neris) by @ysmtttty

A Bond of Song & Flame Ch 7 (Eris x OC) by @sadiegirl2021

Autumn's Shadow: Chapter 17 (Azris) by @the-darkestminds

Of Hearts and Swords Ch 31 (Eris x Fenrys) by @thequeenofnightmares

Her Love is a Bomb with the Potential to Annihilate the Whole World (Eris x Reader) by @dee-writes-smut

Fanart

Day 7: Free Day Art (Eris x All) by @elleybug

Professor Vanserra by @Art by: @velidewrites, Comms by @Cauldronblssed and @moonpatroclus

Peace of Autumn by @chunkypossum

NSFW Art - All Hail the High Lord by @erisweekofficial + @jessicafongarts

harvest celebrations by @laxibbeb

Modern Eris by @leylses (commissioned by @secret-third-thing)

Azris by @artbyellat (instagram)

Eris with mama hound Lithia and her puppy Nickel by @little-fierling 👑

Eris x OC Project: Gianna by @queercontrarian

Eris x OC Project: Aisling by @queercontrarian

Erixius by @thrumugnyr

Scars by @westrangecollectionkoalaposts

Misc.

Dark Academia Eris Moodboard by @climbthemoutain

Custom Drink Recipes by @erisweekofficial

Candle Light Dinner Recipes by @erisweekofficial

BG3 Eris Moments by @hellowitchlingg

Vanserra Brother's Moodboard by @lainalit

High Lord Eris Moodboard by @lucienarcheron

f i r e moodboard by @spore-loser

k i s m e t moodboard by @spore-loser

Creator Shoutouts by @thomasisaslut

Eris in his own words by @throneofsapphics 👑

Flash Tattoo Designs by @tsunami-of-tears

#eris headcanons #eris vanserra #eris acotar #erisweek2024 #acotar #pro eris vanserra #high lord eris #autumn court #autumn court heir #eris

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lemon-russ · 10 months ago

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More smutless (for now) Leman Russ fic. Whats important is that I'm having fun and subjecting you all to it lol.

(Thanks @squishyowl for the dividers. Idk if getting tagged every fic bothers you, lmk :,) )

Wolf Mother (Ch. 2)

<Prev. | Next>

Ao3

Leman Russ x Fem OC

CW (not necessarily this chapter but overall): Trauma, anxiety, PTSD, General WH40k violence, Sex, probably breeding kink stuff eventually, if there's something I miss and you want labeled let me know!!

Summary: Wren and Guilliman arrive at The Fang and meet The Wolf King.

Word count: 1,637

Wren Vaille walks down the corridors of the Macragge's Honour to the door of Guilliman's office. He smiles a greeting to her when she opens the door, and walks beisdes her down the hall.

“Thank you for giving this a chance, Captain.” He says with a smile.

She gives a small smile back, walking around him so he walked on her right side where she could see him. “Of course, sir. It would not be very honorable of me to not even attempt to help you.”

Guilliman raises a brow, then glances at her blinded left eye, scar running through it, and has a small look of understanding, moving aside to give her room. “Still it is a huge favor. But I wouldn't send you somewhere you're in danger. My brother may be rowdy, but I think he will like you.” He smiles at her. “You have the same indomitable spirit.”

She scrunches her brows together. “Uh-huh. Sometimes I fear you have a very inflated idea of me, my Lord.” She says with a small chuckle.

Guilliman chuckles back. “I think you have a very under-inflated view of yourself, Captain. You'll handle the space wolves well, I think.” He says with a pat on her shoulder.

She stumbles a little under the sudden weight of his ceramite gauntlet, bionic leg whirring a groaning noise as she tripped and caught herself before falling.”um- thank you, sir, I suppose.”

They reach the bay doors to the hangar, peppered with blue armored forms and uniforms scurrying around gunning ships and thunderhawks.

A thunderhawk near them was being loaded with what few material possesions she had, a few boxes and a large bag. She swallows hard, her mouth dry.

Guilliman waved to a serf, who brought over a folded coat. “Here, I had this brought for you.” He says, holding up a warm looking, fur lined coat in ultramarine blue. “Fenris is bitterly cold, especially for baseline humans. I worried you wouldn't have sufficent layers.” He smiles.

“Oh, thank you my Lord.” She says, taking the warm, insulated coat. She swallows back some emotion. This may be the last Ultramarine thing she'll own. The rest of her uniform would be packed away with her old Auxillia fatigues.

She gives him a tight smile, trying to not get sentimental. “I really appreciate this, it was very thoughtful.” She says as she pulls on the thick coat.

He smiles and pats her shoulder again. “It's ok to feel emotional, Captain. It is the human thing to feel sad at goodbyes.” He says in a softer tone.

She bites her lower lip. “This is probably only temporary, anyways, my Lord.” She says, walking with him toward the thunderhawk. “I doubt I'll be able to actually keep up with space wolves.” She says with a forced smile.

He smiles and offers her a hand to help her up the ramp of the ship. “Of course, Captain Vaille. It's hardly permanent.”

He helps her settle and buckle in, then tells the pilot to head off.

“I'll see you off to my Brother. It's been too long since I visited, anyway.” The primarch says, sitting next to her as much as the small seats allow.

The ride to the surface of Fenris is short enough, and soon they are landing on the landing bays of The Fang, the massive mountain fortress that serves as the seat of the Space Wolves.

An icy blast has Wren clutching her new coat tight around her shoulders and shivering as the doors to the ship open. Guilliman chuckles, patting her back.

“That's why I got you a coat. Come, Leman should be around and he is terrible at sitting still, so we should be quick so he doesn't run off on us.” He says as he helps her down the ramp.

Her bionic leg, junky as ever, immediately tries to seize as the cold air plays havoc on the metal gears and hydraulic pistons. She gives it a couple whacks with the side of her fist and hobbles off after Guilliman.

They enter the Valgard, the uppermost structure of the fortress and the only place with ship bays. The rest of the fortress is in underground tunnels through the mountain. Thankfully the interior of the mountain is a bit more hospitable.

They walk through corridors of metal, wood and cave tunnels, with busy lifts moving Space Wolves and serfs around. Guilliman leads her through a massive, ornate room of pure granite, down a concerning lift, and through more halls until he stops at a door and knocks.

“Skítja, Who knocks in the Aett?” Someone curses in a rough voice, stomping to the door and flinging it open.

“What- Oh!” The Primarch goes from annoyance to joy in a flash. “Ah, Roboute, I was wondering who would be so formal, I forgot you were coming today.” He laughs.

Leman Russ is a couple feet taller than his brother, and grins down at him with a fanged smile. “Come, come- I was just rehashing defense nonsense.” He says, waving Guilliman in to the defense overlook. Wren, seemingly forgotten, scurries after their long strides into a smaller room of cluttered papers, books, scrolls, and maps laying across a table.

Russ flops onto a large wooden high back chair, leg over the arm, grinning and motioning for Guilliman to sit in a similar one. “So, you sent word of some sort of paperwork thrall?” He asks.

Guilliman chuckled under his breath as he sat, and Wren awkwardly stood beside his chair. They call Serfs thralls? That isn’t very reassuring, she thought to herself.

“Not quite, but yes. This is my assistant, Wren Vaille.” Guilliman introduces, and she gives a polite salute. “I want to offer her to you to do what she does for me- Paperwork, scheduling, some logistics, communicating on my behalf with other Primarchs…” he says, patting her back. “Clerical type work that you seem to need.” He adds, eyeing the piles of strewn papers with a tight frown.

Leman looks at her for the first time, eyeing her up and down, then quirks his head to the side in a way that can only be compared to a curious dog. “Where’d the other half of you go, girl?” He asks curiously.

Guilliman’s eyes go wide, “Leman, have some tackt-” he snaps softly, but Wren chuckles a bit. No one every even acknowledges her differences, let alone so boldly. It is always your condition and because of, well, you know.

"Long gone, I’m afraid.” She says with a small smile. “But I assure you I can work just fine with one eye and a bionic leg.”

Guilliman looks embarrassed, but Leman grins his sharp toothed smile at her. “Hah, well I’ll get a story out of you yet girl. No one loses and eye and a leg and walks away without a tale to tell.”

He hops up from his chair and walks over to her, standing close enough it forces her to crane her neck up. He looks her over, walking in circles around her and making her purse her lips nervously at the inspection.

“Any more of you missing?” He asks, bending down to look at her closer.

She raises her brow. “Uh- a kidney? On the left side, but otherwise no just the eye and leg…” she replies, stepping back a step as he gets close to her face.

He hmphs, then sniffs her, making her blush a bit.

Guilliman sighs. “Leman, she’s only here on a trial, please pretend to be civil for 5 minutes…?” He says, gently pulling Wren back toward himself by her shoulders.

Russ huffed through his nose. “What? I can’t smell her? You can tell a lot by someone’s smell.” He grumbled. “My sons will sniff her too, she may as well get used to it…”

Guilliman and Wren made a mirrored uncomfortable look, and Russ rolled his eyes. ”Fine fine. Tell me, thrall, can you fight still?” He asks, quirking his head to the side again.

Guilliman frowns. “She is here to help you file paperwork and make meetings, Leman.” He says sternly.

Russ frowns, furrowing his brow. “Well she obviously fought at some point- it is important to me that this secretary thing can follow me in dangerous places.”

Wren purses her lips. “I can fight, if needed. Not so well with shooting anymore, what with the eye, but, I can defend myself with melee and I can flee.” She says nervously.

He seems satisfied with that, smiling and giving a nod. “Good. We will get you back up in proper fighting shape so you do not get killed the second something looks at you.”

Guilliman sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Remember, this is a trial, Leman. If you scare her off I’ll take her home.”

Russ scoffs, “If she is scared off, she would make a poor assistant to me.” He grins and claps her on the shoulder, making her leg whine mechanically as she stumbled a little from it. “You look sturdy, though, even for a female so small. Humans do not get that amount of scars from twiddling their thumbs.” He turns on his heel, heading for the door. “Come, paper-thrall, I have duties to attend.”

Guilliman lets out a tired sigh, then pats her back gently. “Thank you again, Wren. I’m always a messenger away, if anything happens and you want to return early, you need only ask.” He says gently. She smiles nervously, giving him a nod, before Leman calls again.

“Thrall! Come! I shall not wait for your tiny legs!”

She stiffens and scrambles out the door.

#my work #Leman russ x fem OC #Leman russ x oc #Wolf mother fic #wh40k fanfic #wh40k fic #Xreader #X reader

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