#Rowaelin moments

[acourtofquestions]

“"You taught Aelin." Again, silence. Then, "Aelin is my heart. I taught her what I knew, and it worked because our magics understood each other deep down— Just as our souls did."

Dorian nodded his thanks. "The first time you met Aelin, did you know ...?"

A snort. "No. Gods, no. We wanted to kill each other." The amusement flickered. "She was ... in a very dark place. We both were. But we led each other out of it. Found a way together."”

credit: @ALICEMARIAPOWER

[acourtofquestions]

“Aelin took a step forward.

One step, as if in a daze.

She loosened a shuddering breath, and a small, whimpering noise came out of her—a sob.

And then she was sprinting down the alley, flying as though the winds themselves pushed at her heels.

She flung herself on the male, crashing into him hard enough that anyone else might have gone rocking back into the stone wall. But the male grabbed her to him, his massive arms wrapping around her tightly and lifting her up.

Nesryn made to approach, but Aedion stopped her with a hand on her arm.

Aelin was laughing as she cried, and the male was just holding her, his hood buried in her neck. As if he were breathing her in.

"Who is that?" Nesryn asked. Aedion smiled, "Rowan."”

credit: @charliebowater (go check out their work it is absolutely beautiful & full of many of my favorites)

Very early colour progress! THIS. SCENE.

On a side note it kind of kills me giving Aelin red hair rather than her natural blonde but I am a stickler for the details!

WIP.

[brainrotcharacters]

tell me I'm wrong

[morganofthewildfire]

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Stolen Moment

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Just wrote this in an hour lol, don’t know what to say, but I like the vibes 😊 it reminds me of Ivy

~ 1k words

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The Terrasenian Countryside, 1839

The orchard was quiet, like it always was. The silence was only punctuated by the lilting sounds of the outdoors: the birds singing in the flowering blooms, the insects buzzing around and floating in the summery breeze, that same breeze flitting through the branches of the trees, and of course the sounds of his paintbrush darting across the canvas.

There were no words that passed between him and his muse, though her blue eyes were trained on him with the whisper of a thousand hidden secrets.

Rowan Whitethorn knew they were playing with fire, but the risk made the moment that much more charged. If anyone were to discover them… for multiple reasons it would lead to either his banishment or his death.

There was no other possible consequence should anyone happen upon them. Not that there should be; they were out at his small house in the countryside, tucked back in the corner of his sprawling acreage, the hidden garden behind the fields of farmland. It was not harvest season, there’d been no need for field hands in the recent days, no one had any reason for being in the vicinity of them.

He did most of the labor himself, saving his art for the few spare moments he could manage to wrangle for himself. It was a secret he didn’t share often; only a few people knew of it. His friend and main field hand, Lorcan, who he’d served in the war with, and Lorcan’s wife Elide both knew.

The painting had started as a way of processing after the war, and Lorcan was the only one who could really understand the horrors that had driven him to this outlet. Elide worked on the farm as well, and had stumbled across his collection of paintings when delivering some of the milk from the cows one morning.

They lived together in a cabin not far from him, and Rowan considered the farm theirs too; they felt more like the true owners than him, though he’d been the one to inherit the land from his father. He didn’t want it, it wasn’t his dream, though he preferred the solitary life it provided.

He didn’t need the pains of social interaction, nor the struggle of trying to constantly pretend. He was fine being alone… or he had been. Until he met her.

Rowan’s eyes lifted from the canvas, landing on the feminine form sprawled on her side on the chaise he’d dragged out here for this purpose. Her head rested on her arms, one leg curled over the other to showcase the delicate curves clothed in a satin chemise, the neckline slipping down her shoulder to show miles of creamy skin. Her golden hair was smoothed in gentle waves, flowing down her back, and those blue eyes of hers remained trained on him.

Aelin Galathynius - Miss Aelin Galathynius - was forbidden to him. It was an idea he couldn’t even dare to foster, and yet here she was, half dressed and alone with him as he studied her form closer than likely anyone ever had.

The Galathynius family was one of the most esteemed families in all of Terrasen, not quite nobility but close to it. They were wealthy, and high ranking, and untouchable for someone like him.

But when it came to their only daughter, Rowan simply couldn’t stay away.

Their country estate wasn’t far from his land, a few miles or so, but it remained unoccupied most of the time. He’d known it belonged to them, but it wasn’t until a few seasons ago that he’d laid eyes on a member of the family. And it just so happened to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Miss Galathynius - Aelin - had been out for a ride on her Asterion mare nearby when an unexpected storm had struck. Her horse had spooked at the crack of thunder, throwing her rider off onto the muddy ground. Rowan had been out assessing damage to the crops when he’d come across her sprawled form.

After helping her up and checking to make sure she was okay, a conversation had struck. She’d been charming, and witty, with the widest smile he’d ever seen, and he’d fallen head over heels practically immediately.

He hadn’t realized who she was.

He learned soon enough, but that didn’t stop her from continuing to reach out to him, and he didn’t have enough self control to stop himself from reaching back out to her, so here they were. He’d confessed his love of painting not long into their acquaintance, and she’d finally convinced him to let her pose for him. He couldn’t say no, no matter the consequences.

If anyone caught them right now, she’d be ruined. If anyone ever found this painting, then he’d be dead.

Because she was to be married soon. She’d told him, though she hadn’t needed to. He’d seen the ring on her finger.

He couldn’t expect anything different. She was eighteen years of age, from a distinguished family. She was sure to have offers by the plenty. Her family had just seemingly finally found the perfect one.

At twenty one, Rowan knew he was likely closer in age to her than several of those offers, but he knew he would never have even been considered. A few decades ago, he’d be beheaded for even daring to put forward his proposal.

His heart ached as he dragged his paintbrush along the canvas, smoothing out the perfect curve of her hip, and the dip of her waist where his hand so perfectly fit. They hadn’t done anything, had never even kissed.

If Aelin were to be discovered as anything but a virgin on her wedding night, then Hellas would rain down on them both.

So Rowan ignored the aching in his chest and the urges of his hands and just enjoyed the stolen moment the best he could. This was leading to ruin, and they both knew it.

But he would savor whatever little piece of her he could get.

——-

Taglist:

@wordsafterhours

@romancinghollywood

@superspiritfestival

@wishfulimaginings

@larisssss

@punkassbookjockey26

@shyvioletcat

@aelinchocolatelover

@s-uppertime

@leiawritesstories

@elentiyawhitethorn

@backtobl4ck

@goddess-aelin

@fromthelibraryofemilyj

@justreadertings

@rowaelinismyotp

@live-the-fangirl-life e

@swankii-art-teacher

@tomtenadia

@highqueenofelfhame

@firestarsandseneschals

@thegreyj

@mariamuses

@house-of-galathynius

@rowanaelinn

@llyncooljones

@story-scribbler

@charlizeed

@bookcide

@elizarikaallen

@slytherhys

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@rowaelinrambling

@courtofjurdan

@peppermint-fae

[diamonata]

Want to talk about

✨The Pattern?✨

Here we go (SJM spoilers all):

Isaac -> Tamlin -> Rhys

Reid -> Connor -> Hunt

Dorian -> Chaol -> Rowan

... see what I'm getting at here?

Thomas -> random dude -> Cassian

Celaena -> Sorscha -> Manon

Celaena -> Nesryn -> Yrene

Get my drift?!?!

Mor -> Elain -> Gwyn (or Eris 😉)

Jesminda -> Vassa(?) -> Elain

Cassian -> Andromache -> Emerie

[acourtofquestions]

"What did she show you?" A breathless question.

Aelin had to swallow before she could answer. "She showed me what might have been—if there had been no Erawan, if Elena had dealt with him properly and banished him. If there had been no Lyria, none of that pain or despair you endured. She showed me Terrasen as it would have been today, with my father as king, and my childhood happy, and..." Her lips wobbled. "When I turned twenty, you came with a delegation of Fae to Terrasen, to make amends for the rift between my mother and Maeve. And you and I took one look at each other in my father's throne room, and we knew." She didn't fight the stinging in her eyes. "I wanted to believe that was the true world. That this was the nightmare from which I'd awaken. I wanted to believe that there was a place where you and I had never known this suffering and loss, where we'd take one look at each other and know we were mates. Maeve told me she could make it so. If I gave her the keys, she'd make it all possible." She wiped at her cheek, at the tear that escaped down it. "She spun me realities where you were dead, where you'd been killed by Erawan and only in handing over the keys to her would I be able to avenge you. But those realities made me ... I stopped being useful to her when she told me you were gone. She couldn't get me to talk, to think. Yet in the ones where you and I met, where things were as they should have been ... that was when I came the closest."

His swallow was audible. "What stopped you?"

She wiped at her face again. "The male I fell in love with was you. It was you, who knew pain as I did, and who walked with me through it, back to the light. Maeve didn't understand that. That even if she could create that perfect world, it wouldn't be you with me. And I'd never trade that, trade this. Not for anything."

He extended his hand. An offer and invitation. Aelin laid hers atop his, and his callused fingers squeezed gently. "I wanted it to be you," he breathed, closing his eyes. "For months and months, even in Wendlyn, I wondered why you weren't my mate instead. It tore me up, wondering it, but I still did." He opened his eyes, and they burned like green fire. "All this time, I wanted it to be you." She lowered her gaze, but he hooked a thumb and forefinger around her chin and lifted her face. "Even if I had my choice of any dream-realities, any perfect illusions, I would still choose you, too."

[fanwarriorfictions]

Not Again- Part Three

Azriel x Rowaelin daughter reader

Summary: The inner court has many questions about Y/n and her world. Missing home even more, all she wants is to fly and clear her head, luckily, her babysitter indulges her

Series Masterlist

-Part Three-

Azriel knew this was going to be a long day from the moment he woke up. Surrounded by his shadows who would not shut up for three gods damned seconds. She’s awake, awake, awake, upset, won’t eat, upset. The little busybodies had snuck off while he slept, and apparently they were very concerned about the state of the female next door for whatever reason.

He found himself dressed and in the hallway waiting for any sign of her, when he didn’t receive one in the ten minutes he’d stood there he’d finally crossed the hall and knocked three times on the door.

She was still in there, he knew that from the way his shadows kept trying to slip through the cracks towards her. And he could feel the shield of air she’d placed around the room, hiding the sounds of her approaching footsteps.

The door swung open and Azriel couldn’t explain why his breath caught in his chest. The house had gifted her new clothes, the traditional night court style that Amren preferred to wear, in the deepest darkest night court black. The silk cropped shirt hugged her curves, and the flowing high waisted pants left a small sliver of skin on display. Beautiful, pretty, black suits her. His shadows whispered again and again and again, he was about ready to lock them away for a moment of peace.

“Here to take me to the dungeons yet?” She asks, lifting her arms towards him as if expecting cuffs, amusement glittering in her eyes as she watches his eyes lift from her waist, “what’s on the table today? Just some light interrogation? Maybe a bit of torture?”

“Breakfast actually,” he replies dryly, “the others will be here shortly.”

“Well that’s no fun,” she pouts, dropping her arms to her sides, “lead the way then, shadowsinger.”

The title rolls off her tongue, that accent swirling and dripping with charm. A small smirk on her lips as she notices his hesitation, turning his back on her still felt like a bad idea, even though he didn’t glimpse a single dagger on her, he’s sure she wouldn’t need it.

She seems fine, less tense than the night before, a mask of cool amusement and charm, yet his shadows seem concerned, upset, they’d whispered all morning. As they walk he keeps one eye on her, taking in the way she examines every surface, every turn, every nook and cranny. She was mapping out the halls in her head, memorizing the ways out, smart. If she wanted to she could shift into that magnificent hawk form and fly through the halls and off the balcony before he could even try to catch her.

They turn into the dining room, Rhys and Feyre already sat at the table. The table set for several people, Azriel assumed the rest of the court would be here soon, Cassian flying them up from the River House. Elain would stay back with little Nyx, her mate there to protect them both.

“Good morning,” Feyre says, voice reserved yet kind, “I’m Feyre.”

Y/n grants her a small smile, bowing her head slightly in greeting. She doesn’t say anything, opting to examine the room around them like she’d done in the halls, nervous. She didn’t let it show on her face, but Azriel could tell, could see the tension in her shoulders.

“Please, sit,” Rhys says, gesturing to the seats across from them, “the rest will be here shortly.”

“Should I be worried about that?” Y/n asks, her tone is light, that cool amusement hiding the faint look of panic that flashes through her eyes.

Azriel’s shadows writhe at his sides when he sees that look, something about it settles wrongly. She had nothing to fear from them, but how would she know that? Strangers who had found her vulnerable, who had tried to look into her mind, who she knew next to nothing about.

Feyre laughs lightly, “no, no, of being talked to death perhaps, but I swear, no harm will come to you.”

That seems just good enough to Y/n to coax her to sit across from Feyre, her eyes glance warily at the foods laid out between them and instead of filling her plate like the High Lord and Lady across from her she simply leans back in her seat and watches. Azriel takes the seat beside her, pointedly filling his plate with mounds of eggs and bacon and bread with jams.

She won’t eat, eat, eat, eat, she needs to eat. Shadows angrily whisper in Azriel’s ears but he forces them away as he hears the sounds of his family grow closer down the hall, Cassian’s booming laugh echoing into the room. He can see the moment Y/n tenses, her body readying for a fight that would not come.

“A rambunctious lot you’ve got here,” she says coolly, that mask of indifference slid into place.

“You don’t even know the half of it,” Rhys sighs.

Cassian is the first to come through the door, followed by Nesta who rolls her eyes at her mates back.

“Is this the female who handed Azriel’s ass to him?”

The tension in Y/n’s shoulders slip every so slightly and Azriel feels himself relax too. He was prepared to leap inbetween his family and her, to protect which one he wasn’t sure.

“You say that like it’s such an impossibility,” Mor says as she and Amren step through the doorway, “I’ve seen plenty of females hand you your ass, Cassian.”

“But it’s Az,” Cass laughs, “Mister dark and broody spymaster caught off guard by the second female falling on his lap.”

“She did not fall into my lap,” Azriel sighs, “she was in the-“

“Whatever,” Cassian interrupts, waving his hand, “close enough.”

Azriel rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics, recognizing them for what they were, a way to break any tension, to make this seem like a simple breakfast instead of the interrogation it was sure to become. One glance at Y/n told him she wasn’t buying it for one second.

Her eyes travel over them all, stopping briefly on Nesta as their eyes lock. Both females had that cold stare that could freeze oceans. Though she’d given back a majority of the cauldrons power, it still lurked behind Nesta’s steely eyes, that silver fire rolling in warning. Y/n looked just as lethal, those cold eyes almost glowing with the power lurking below her skin, wether it was ice or fire, Azriel wasn’t sure he wanted to find out which she’d use first.

Nesta seemed satisfied with whatever she saw in Y/n’s eyes, grabbing her mates hand to drag him to their seats beside Feyre. Mor slipped into the seat beside Azriel, Amren taking the seat beside her.

“Well,” Rhys says with that charming grin, “now that everyone is here I’d like to introduce our lovely guest, Crown Princess of Terrasen, Y/n Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius.”

“Now that’s a mouth full.” Mor whistles as she piles her plate full of sweet pastries and fruits, “lovely to meet you, Princess.”

“Y/n will do.”

“Wow, you weren’t kidding about the fangs,” Cassian says when her sharp canines peak through her lips.

Azriel keeps one eye on the female next to him as he pretended to be interested in the food on his plate. Her arms were crossed over her stomach, her mask not slipping despite the eyes weighing her down.

“What is this place?”

Rhys raises a brow at her, “would you like to eat first before we get to the nitty gritty?”

Y/n nods towards the food, “I’d like to know exactly who and what I’m dealing with before I accept food from fae I don’t know. Didn’t anyone ever teach you stranger danger?”

Eat, eat, tell her to eat. Azriel tries to quiet the shadows, getting annoyed with how insistent they were. As if she heard them, Y/n glances at him, frowning at the little wisps that stray to close to her.

Rhys looks ready to give her a sarcastic response but Feyre rolls her eyes and butts in, “you are in Velaris, the heart and soul of our territory, the Night Court.”

“You’re the leaders of this place,” Y/n states more than asks.

“High Lord and Lady, few of many on this continent,” Feyre nods, “how’d you know.”

“I’ve dealt with plenty of royals,” Y/n shrugs, “Queens and Kings, Lords and Ladies, Emperors and Empresses.”

That peaks everyone’s interest, Azriel can feel the curiosity in the air. When Quinlann had arrived, she’d been at war with the Asteri, the ruling power of her world, despite having kings and queens, they all answered to the immortal, intergalactic parasites, as Quinlann had put it. She and her mate had succeeded in ridding their planet of the monsters, but who knew where else these creatures lived.

“What is your home like?” Mor asks, the question seemingly harmless, but depending on the answer could bring a whole world of consequences.

Y/n examines her, not missing the hidden question beneath is your world a threat to our own, “much like your own it would seem. We’ve been at peace for the last 25 years. Until a gate opened up and ripped me away from my family.”

There’s the briefest change in her then, that mask slipping just enough that Azriel recognizes it, grief. She’s upset, homesick, won’t eat. It made sense now, she’d said she’d been with her father when the gate had taken her, when she’d been dumped onto a foreign land surrounded by strangers she couldn’t understand. She must have been terrified.

“Before you ask, I have no idea how or why the gate opened, or why it took me,” she continues, “it shouldn’t have been possible. None have been opened since the lock was forged during the war.”

“War?” Cassian’s brow raises in question, “what lock?”

It seems to set her back into a memory, her eyes not entirely focused on the male who’d asked, “the war against the Valg. Demons from another world who liked the taste of ours. The fight against them spanned over centuries, over multiple wars, my ancestor was able to lock the King away with a stolen object not meant for her to use, but for that there was a price demanded from the gods who’d made the lock in the first place, an heir of her blood to forge a new lock, to open a gate and send them to their true home, my mother. Queen Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, she almost died paying their price, and in the end they betrayed her anyway.”

Anger simmered in her eyes, Azriel could feel heat radiating off of her, that fire under her skin wanting to come out.

“What became of them?” Rhys asks.

She takes a moment to rein that fire in and then she meets the High Lord’s eyes, “she killed them all.”

A silence ripples through the room, her mother had killed her world’s gods. Were they like Midgard’s asteri, Prythian’s daglan, or maybe their own kind of nightmare.

“She locked the gates, fell through time and space, through hundreds of worlds, guided back by my father who would not let that mating bond slip through his fingers. When she’d come back, she had a fraction of her power left, the power that could end the valg Queen and King and save them all.”

“How did they win?” Nesta asks in the quiet that follows.

A smile, not a smirk finds Y/n’s lips and Azriel’s shadows dance towards her. He barely keeps them in check, one resting on the edge of her chair before it was reined back in. He catches the curious look sent his way by Rhys. He’d surely hear more of that later.

“My Aunt Yrene,” she says, “a healer, the valg were vulnerable to their touch, she took the evil shriveled soul of the valg King and turned him to nothing but a black stain on the floor. We put a rug over it.”

A surprised laugh slips out of Mor, ��please tell me it’s hideous.”

“The tackiest thing I’ve ever seen, they let me paint on it as a child. It’s covered in bad stick figures of my uncles.”

They’d asked her questions until it was nearing lunch time. Cassian had about fallen out of his chair when she’d told them of the witches and their wyverns. From the look in Amren’s eye, Y/n knew that if she’d ever met Manon, the world would tremble in fear.

Rhys had been particularly interested in her mother’s journey through worlds, he had an uncanny feeling about it that he couldn’t quite explain. Feyre and Nesta had been shocked to learn that her mother was half human. Mor had asked her millions of questions that she could barely keep up with.

During it all, Azriel had been silent at her side. No questions on his lips but she could see the wheels turning in his head, could almost hear the whispering shadows that danced closer and closer to her every chance they got. She’d felt one drifting over her elbow for a moment before Azriel had glared right at the curious little shadow and it flew back to his side.

They’d slowly stopped their questioning and then they left one by one, Amren had left to look into this worlds knowledge on Wyrd markings and gates, Cassian and Nesta had said something about a training session, Rhys and Feyre needed to go relieve the third Acheron sister from babysitting duty and Mor had desperately wanted to see her nephew.

And just like that, it was down to Y/n and Azriel. She assumed he was still on babysitting duty, despite their apparent trust in her. She didn’t blame them for being cautious, Wyrd knows she’d not let a single one of them out of her sight if the roles were reversed.

Y/n stood stretching out her sore muscles, an involuntary groan slipping past her lips as she lifted her arms above her head. They’d been sitting there for hours and her body still aches from the events of yesterday.

“You didn’t eat anything,” his cool voice startles her, deep and slightly gravely.

She glances down at him, noting the way his eyes drag up from that small sliver of skin at her waist. The clothes we’re comfortable, yet much more revealing than anything she’d been used to. She can’t help the smirk that rests on her lips as she looks down at the handsome male, she could get used to clothes like this.

“I’m not hungry,” she shrugs, moving through the room, glancing towards the huge windows that showed the vast city far beneath them.

“You haven’t eaten since you’ve been here,” he says, eyes tracking each of her movements.

“Oh? And how would you know that,” she looks pointedly at the shadows, “I thought I told you to keep wandering eyes to yourself.”

He simply shrugs, “they do what they want.”

“Clearly.” She turns towards the door, “are you to play babysitter all day? Don’t you have anything better to do?”

She’s out the door before he’s has the chance to reply. The place was massive, she’d memorized the walk from her room to the dining hall, but the amount of halls that laid around told her she’d only seen a small portion of what the place had to offer.

“Would you care for a tour?” Azriel’s suddenly standing to her side.

“Babysitter and tour guide,” she snarks, exploring down the hall, “A double threat.”

“I’ve been told to keep any eye on you.” He looks down at her, “and that’s what I plan to do.”

“Oh I have no doubt about that.” She turns into a large living space littered with comfortable looking couches and chairs, a doorway leading to a balcony against the far wall. “I’m sure you’re a male who takes his duties very seriously.”

She moves towards that door, towards the open air beyond, Azriel following close behind. She could feel the wind beyond, begging to caress her wings, she’d shift and fly for hours and hours, maybe she could fly home.

“You could make this easy for both of us,” he says, letting a shadow block her path, “and quit trying to run away from me.”

“Now who said I was trying to run away,” she flashes an overly sweet smile over her shoulder, one that she can tell gets under his skin.

“You’re not a prisoner,” he almost growls, “but if you choose to make this harder than necessary, I have no problem tying you to a chair.”

She snorts, “Kinky, but no thank you, I’m not interested.”

He doesn’t respond, that carefully crafted expression not shifting an inch, though his shadows give him away. They writhe around him, reaching for her and pulling back over and over, like he was trying not to strangle her.

“Tell you what,” she says, “I’ll stick around you like glue if you let me go for a quick flight.”

She doesn’t hide the longing glance she gives the balcony, whenever she was stressed or upset her and her father would go flying, they would fly until she was ready to talk about what was eating at her, or until she tired herself out and he would take her home and tuck her into bed just to go fly the next morning. Y/n couldn’t think of a time she’d been more stressed than now, stuck in a foreign world with no way home, surrounded by powerful fae who she didn’t trust not to bury a dagger between her shoulders the second she turned around, depsite how kind they had been.

“Fine.”

Her eyes meet with warm hazel, surprise not hidden on her face. She would’ve thought he’d fight back harder, keeping her here, where she couldn’t fly away was safer, easier. But he’d agreed, and she gives him the first genuine smile she’d had since she’d arrived and says, “Thank you.”

He nods once, “after you.”

She’s out the door in seconds, shifting with a flash of white light, and diving over the edge of the balcony towards the city far far below.

Azriel was regretting his choice to let her fly, simply due to the fact that she was so damn fast. Despite the chill in the air, she flew over Velaris with such speed, the air biting his wings as he tried to keep up. She zigzaged over the city, following streets up and down, from the cliffs of the house all the way to the open mouth of the Sidra. They flew over the bridge into the Rainbow, the artists quarter and almost like an invisible string tugged her towards it, they ended up at one of the many amphitheaters.

Music of practicing artists flowed out, preparing for a concert later that evening, there was no single melody, a mesh of different tunes that somehow melded together into a new song of its own.

Y/n landed on a high wall of the amphitheater, that flash of light, and then she was sitting precariously on the edge, as if there wasn’t a steep drop directly behind her to the streets below. Azriel landed next to her, carefully sitting down with a comfortable distance between them. It felt wonderful to rest for a few seconds, letting the sun warm his wind chilled wings.

He watches her, the way she leans towards that music as if she couldn’t help but be drawn to it. There’s a longing look in her eyes, a sadness that cracks that carefully constructed mask to pieces. Azriel wants to comfort her, he’s overcome by the sudden need to fix whatever is wrong, but he was never good at that, so he just sits beside her, mouth firmly shut.

“One of the first things my mother did after the war was rebuild the theaters,” she says quietly after several minutes, “my earliest memory is sitting in the Queen’s box, they’d written a symphony about the final battle, it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. I can still hear the horn that signaled my mothers arrival.”

Azriel listened carefully, “Your mother seems to be a brave warrior.”

“She didn’t have a choice but to be,” Y/n whispers, “Most of my family didn’t.”

“You seem to be a warrior yourself,” he says, “were you given a choice.”

Her eyes don’t stray from the players below, “Yes and no, my parents insisted I train, they wanted me to be prepared for anything, I wanted to anyway, mostly because I wanted to grow up to be just like them. My father is one of the strongest fae warriors in the world, Rowan Whitethorn, soldiers talk about him around camp fires like he’s a myth. He and my uncles, his cadre, oversaw my training. My mother too, she’d once been a renowned assassin, I’d begged and fought with her to teach me everything she knew until she got sick of me and relented.”

He could see that, the way she struck fast and quietly during their first encounter, she moved with the grace of a dancer, struck with the strength of a warrior.

“Quite the family,” he says, searching for anything to lighten the mood, something Rhys or Cassian would say, “I’m sure bringing home boys was interesting.”

She laughs, and he can’t help but enjoy the sound, “you have no idea, not only do you have to impress my parents, but also the kings and queens of several nations. I made the mistake of bringing a boy home when Manon was visiting from the witch lands. She tried to introduce him to Abraxos, I don’t think I ever saw him again.”

From what they’d heard of the witch Queen, Azriel hoped the boy had just fled the kingdom, instead of becoming dinner.

She goes silent, and a shadow whispers in Azriel’s ear, she wants to go home, sad, very sad.

“Would you care to eat now?” Azriel asks, raising to his feet, “I know flying works up my appetite.”

She flashes him a saccharine smile, one that does its best to hide the pain but it can’t hide her eyes, “are you asking for a date? I thought I told you I’m not interested.”

He rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the slight twitch of his lips, “Trust me, Princess, you’re not my type either.”

She climbs to her feet, and Azriel finds that stretch of exposed skin at her waist as she turns to him, the scent of pine, snow, and embers drifting towards him on the wind.

“I’m everybody’s type.” Her tone lowers, dripping with charm, the kind that could make men and women crawl on their hands and knees. “Think you can keep up this time?”

Without warning she jumps off the back of the tall amphitheater. Azriel has a brief moment of panic, shadows whipping out to try and catch her, wings flaring as he goes to dive after her. Then, brilliant white light blinds him for a second, and that red tinged hawk shoots past him, letting out a cry that sounds suspiciously like laughter.

He swears, jumping off that ledge and shoots into the sky behind her.

[throneofsapphics]

have your little girlfriend, part seven

poly!Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: Catching Aelin's eye, you quickly end up entangled between her and Rowan, forced to navigate their darker sides in your new relationship.

Warnings: included on series masterlist to avoid spoilers!

Word Count: ~4.4k

A/N: we've reached the penultimate chapter!! thank you to both @whisperingmidnights and @moonlightttfae for your support <3 (and all of you who kept motivating me and reminding me about this little story)

series masterlist

Settling next to her on the bed, Aelin ran a hand down her thigh, “Rowan and I are thinking about trying for a child.” 

The happiness she felt in that moment wasn’t faked. It was true, bright, and genuine. 

“That’s wonderful,” she breathed, reaching out and clutching Aelin’s hand gently. “Are you?” She glanced down towards her stomach

Aelin’s bright laugh tinkled through the room. “Thinking about trying, petal. You should listen more,” she chided ‘jokingly,’ but she caught the small down curve at the last syllable. 

Her mouth curled up at the corners anyway. This was something that had been hovering in the back of everyone’s minds for so long it only felt right. Now, her mind drifted to how she’d celebrate with Aelin. She glanced at the small bottle of oil on the side table. A massage would help her mate relax. Running her hands over her shoulders, she realized just how tense she was, and noticed the light bags underneath her eyes. 

Aelin read the question in her eyes. 

“There’s been a lot to … catch up on,” she said delicately. 

‘Because of you, your settling, your burden,’ her mind whirled, the voice not her own. 

“No,” Aelin said firmly, aloud. “What you’re thinking - it’s not true.” 

“You don’t know what I’m thinking,” she countered automatically. Aelin frowned and she winced, sending a silent apology. It seemed to appease her mate, especially as she reached for the oil, motioning for Aelin to turn around, eagerly complying. First, she undid the ties on the back of her tunic, letting her skin expose inch by inch, fingers running delicately over the relatively smooth skin, tracing the lines and swirls of her tattoos. 

Aelin laid down, head turned sideways to rest her cheek on the pillow. Straddling her waist, she let the oil drip directly on her back. 

Not having any training or particularly good technique, she just went for whatever drew the best reactions out of her mate. Thumbs dug into sore spots, nails scratched down lightly, gentle kisses left on shoulders, teeth nipping, dodging when Aelin’s fingers shot out to pinch in playful reprimand. 

The breaths grew longer, more ragged, less controlled. Bodies shifted to release tension, thighs rubbed together subconsciously, hands jolted, movements less smooth and controlled. 

The game reached its expiration point as Aelin flipped over, throwing her underneath and straddling her hips to pin her in place. 

Leaning down, brushing lips against her ear, “my turn,” she breathed. 

Strands of fire wrapped around her wrist, not burning but pinning them above her head. She lifted her chest, arching her back, giving her mate her favorite view. 

Aelin’s thumbs brushed over her breasts in appreciation. The touches grew firmer, a mark of exactly who was in charge. 

“So beautiful, petal,” she murmured. “I’m so lucky.” 

“We’re so lucky,” an amused voice interrupted from the back. Aelin waved him off - a half hearted dismissal, countered with a laugh and slow but purposeful steps across the room.  

Her mates locked eyes, a silent conversation she wasn’t privy to passing through. Her legs shifted, subconsciously reaching for their attention. The smiles appearing on their faces set her on edge. 

Before she could think further, or ask more questions, Aelin had turned, slid up the bed, and hovered above her. She faced away, toward Rowan, who was currently lining up between her thighs. 

“Snap if you need to stop,” he said roughly. She didn’t get to see him enter her as Aelin lowered herself over her face. She didn’t care. 

-

Later that night, curled up next to them in bed, she realized she’d probably never fall pregnant. Biologically, it didn’t matter to her who birthed the child, she’d help raise and love them all the same. But was pregnancy something she wanted? It would interfere with the royal succession and all of that. Things her mates had probably thought of and discarded for a later time. Well, now was the later time. Right now … she was a royal concubine, wasn’t she?

Still, they already had little time to spare, and a child would … she shook her head. How gods-damned selfish could she be? The time she took up in their lives would be better spent on a child. A child would be more worthy of the time than her. All she’d done is drag her mates down since they met, causing problems and bringing chaos in her wake. She was, at the very least, a basket case. 

She should be happy for her mates, for how long they’d wanted this baby - held back by her. She was the one holding them back from their dreams and everything they wanted.

It was bullshit, she knew. The child would be more than happy with three parents. She wasn’t happy, and the time was coming where she picked for herself for once, but she had to be careful about it. 

Right now, she didn’t know what she wanted. Of course, these concerns couldn’t be raised because at the first hint of suspicion she might leave them she’d be placed firmly on lockdown - not given the slightest chance. Their love always came hand in hand with obsession, and with that a heavy weight she couldn’t quite kick. Several days, all she wanted was for the heaviness to leave her chest. 

Besides, they were Fae and it could take years for any of them to fall pregnant. When that time came, she knew what she’d have to do, and knew it would hurt like hell in so many ways. 

“What’s on your mind?” Rowan murmured from her right. To her left, Aelin was sound asleep. She hadn’t realized he was awake. 

“Life,” she whispered. 

He wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her closer. Aelin had spread out to take over most of the bed, and seemed perfectly content wrapped in all of the pillows and blankets but she knew her mate would reach for her soon. Until then, she let herself melt into Rowan, his warmth and the steady circles he traced on her back. 

This, this feeling, warmth, and content. She wanted desperately to be selfless and stay, but eventually she’d need to be selfish and go. The clock was ticking down. 

-

A year later, she knew something was different. Firstly, she could barely stand to have others near Aelin. At first she thought it was because they hadn’t gotten to spend much time together, but then her mate’s scent changed. 

Rowan’s behavior confirmed her suspicion. She thanked the gods that their instincts didn't apply to each other. 

Pregnancy suited Aelin, it seemed like a gold dust or shimmer always coated her, bathing her in some sort of ethereal light. 

It took one week for her to remember the original plan. 

With her mates distracted with preparations for the babe, it was all too easy for her to get things together to leave. 

There was one thing standing in her way. Her bargain with Fenrys. Her own conscience died as soon as she began considering this. She wasn’t able to go to the Staghorns with him accompanying her, and he couldn’t run with her. Would he try to stop her if she he knew she was preparing to leave? She considered him a brother, but undeniably his loyalty went to Aelin first and not just because of the blood oath. It hurt that she couldn’t truly trust him, and she knew it was unfair but in her mind it was Aelin and Rowan stealing another thing from her. Besides, he’d pulled away from her recently. Like the rest of them, he was preoccupied with Aelin’s pregnancy. 

A blessing, but a blessing so precious it put everyone on edge. 

The only other option was to go somewhere else. She decided to post a few letters. 

Rushing over to the table, grabbing a quill and ink while they were still busy, the sound of pen scratching paper filled their rooms. 

What were those vacation spots we used to go to? I’ve been reminiscing about our childhood. 

Only brief phrases flooded into her mind as she wrote, the rest flowing straight from her mind to paper, the only filter the code she created with her cousins years ago as children. Hopefully the gods were looking out for her, and her cousins remembered. With a little luck, whoever undoubtedly read the letter wouldn’t find anything suspicious or worth reporting back to home for. Even if they did, she’d gained their trust well enough and they were so preoccupied she doubted they would pay much attention to it. After all, they hadn’t paid much attention to her. 

She glanced at the clock. Two hours til they were finished with the meeting. Leaving the castle alone wouldn’t raise suspicion anymore, now with her settling a year in the past. Black cloak pulled over her head, silver clasp fastened at the collarbone, rain pouring outside, she slipped through a servants passage, and out the front gate. Sometimes the best place to hide was in plain sight.

Sticking to main streets, smiling at the few who dared venture outside during inclement weather, she headed right for the post stand. Not unusual of her before her settling - the citizens of Orynth had long memories after all, even the mortals. Her primary form of communication couldn’t be in person after all, and she had piles and piles of letters from her cousins. Still, the code was necessary because she couldn’t risk anyone reading her mail. Everyone was nosy. Finding someone she trusted, someone loyal to the crown, knowing an extra coin would make no difference in their behavior, she made the exchange. 

Instead of a breath of fresh air, her chest tightened. This was the first step to the ultimate betrayal. 

Anxiety and panic filled her, all of her will and energy went to keeping it from the mating bond. Despite her current plans, she still cared deeply about Aelin, her health, and the health of the babe. But … how much of herself did she need to sacrifice? How much could she, before it broke her completely? 

“Is everything alright miss?” A guard asked at the gate. Miss. 

When did she start crying? 

“Just good news,” she put on her best cheery voice. He looked skeptical. “Really,” she insisted. 

“Alright,” he gave her a polite nod and she fled - well, walked as fast as she could get away with. He would undoubtedly go to someone. With Aedion gone for a few days, it would be Fenrys - the guard knew better than to approach Rowan at a time like this. Fenrys might be testy as well, she realized, but a safer option for them - and her. 

Fleeing for her safe space, she eyed the clock, counting the time until a white wolf appeared. 

Seven minutes. 

“You’re slow today,” she mumbled, wiping an errant tear with the back of her hand. 

Flash of light, a Fae male. 

“What’s wrong?” He said, voice deep and lined with a touch of exasperation. He cut to the chase, a touch of impatience in his tone. A tone he’d never taken with her before. 

“I should ask you that,” she bit back. 

His shoulders loosened. “I don’t like being away from her right now,” he admitted. 

She sent him a commiserating smile. “Neither do I.” 

He raised a brow. Why aren’t you there, you could read the words in his eyes. 

“Rowan is touchy,” she added. 

“I’m aware,” he drawled and sat on the couch opposite her, leaning forward, forearms against his thighs. “But I’m surprised he is even with you, his other mate” 

Other mate. Fenrys realized his poor choice of words immediately, she saw it in the look on his face. She waved it off, “I know you don’t mean it like that.” She wondered if he’d acknowledge the lie or brush it under the rug, and would’ve bet money on the second. 

“I don’t,” Fenrys said, “it doesn’t mean it's not wrong I said it like that.” 

Maybe she underestimated him. “I’m f-”

“Don’t say that, I know you don’t mean it,” he cut her off, “how are you handling this?” 

She pressed her lips into a tight line, going for as close to the truth as she can get. “I’m thrilled, nervous, and uncertain.” 

He huffed “you sound like the rest of us.” 

“I suppose I do,” she forced a smile. Concern flashed in those dark eyes, but he didn’t push, enough of that had been done today. 

-

She didn’t go to the healers with them, she never did anymore. The first time had been so much that they insisted only one mate could come with, and that went to Rowan. Personally, both she and Aelin thought she would’ve been the safer choice, less likely to murder someone, but even that couldn’t be completely guaranteed so it might as well be the king. It only reinforced her thoughts, without her it would be easier around. She thought it was probably better that way, each visit felt like the ticking of a clock, and at least here she could separate herself more with less worry that they would notice it. 

It felt like hours this time, and Fenrys kept her company today in her workshop. Good, better than being alone with her thoughts. Aelin was seven months pregnant, and weekly check ups quite obviously frustrated her but the rest of them didn’t care. Each check up was one week closer to her departure. 

Shaking her head clear of thoughts, her hand hovered over the material, flooding back and forth. It was frustrating, trying to get her magic to work as it used to. Half of the time she could make beautiful creations, even better than before, but the other half they were … not ugly but more angry is the best way she could describe it. They said magic spoke to her soul and she wondered what that meant about her. Nothing good. 

“I like this one,” Fenrys pointed towards a piece that pissed her off. Angry ripples of wood, different colors streaked between, “it’s … original.” 

“It should go in the trash,” she muttered. 

“No more breaking things,” he snorted, but she could hear a hint of worry. She rarely threw anything away - if anything she took them and tried to remake them over and over again. There was no point in throwing out old creations if they could tell a story of her life and work, or if they could be re-used. After the ‘broken glass episode,’ as she called it in her mind, she hated the sounds of anything breaking. 

Once, Aelin almost took the head off a poor courtier who’d accidentally broken a glass in her presence. At least her magic cooperated enough for her to make it nearly impossible for any glassware in this castle to break, unless someone intentionally threw it. The way it worked, her magic wouldn’t stop someone from breaking it if they wanted to, it only stopped accidents. 

Maybe if - when she reinvented herself somewhere else she could sell magically reinforced glassware. Although that might be too obvious and could get her caught. 

The southern continent might take her. She abandoned the glass, settling for tapping her fingers on her table instead. Fenrys was pacing by the door. This appointment had been an emergency and she was thinking of how she’d be leaving soon. 

More than ever before, she believed she was a truly terrible person. Someone, she had to tell someone about this - get them to convince her to quit this insanity. 

“Fen-” She started, his head turning towards her, just as they heard footsteps down the hall. Later on when the wolf asked what she wished to speak about earlier, she didn’t remember, mentioning offhand it must not have been very important. 

“Everything is well,” Aelin said as she entered, Rowan quick on her heels. They’d taken to coming here after - probably because she always had chocolate ready for Aelin. 

Sure enough, she slid a box of hazelnut chocolates across the table to her pregnant mate. She was absolutely insatiable. Nothing could curb her appetite, but she gladly fed the addiction. Anything to make her happy while she was still here. 

“I wish you could go to the appointments with me,” Aelin mumbled in between bites after Rowan stepped out of the room. “He’s such a bear.” 

“He’s always seemed more bird-like to me,” she countered automatically, teeth digging into her bottom lip as she focused on one piece of material. 

A palm slapped against the table, stifled breathing - panic - eyes shot up. Laughter. 

“That. Was. Horrible,” Aelin wheezed, but her cheeks were lifted, eyes light, and the giggles left her were contagious. 

“If I’m a bear,” Rowan grumbled, stalking through the door. Aelin shot you a hopeful look. Had she spoken in his hearing range on purpose? “Then let petal go next time instead.” 

Rowan turned, looking at her like he had a mental list of instructions ready. She gulped. What had she signed up for? A tiny glint in his eye told him she wasn’t too sure 

-

Her hands shook as they floated over the material. It took what felt like ages for her to work with glass again, and even now it still felt too raw but this was something she needed to do. And with the glass collected from her … melt down. A complete waste, that was. So many hours of work smashed into pieces, thrown into a bucket for her to try and fix her mistakes. She vowed to herself this wouldn’t be a mistake, that she was doing the ‘right’ thing. 

But … was it the right thing for her or for them? Could it be both? 

Too. Much. Thinking. 

She refocused on the object in front of her, passing her hands over it again, trying to let her magic flow from inside of her. Ever since her settling it had been a tad more difficult to access, but when she did manage to access it … well her workshop is now reinforced. Heavily. 

After the fifth attempt, she sighed and slid it to the side. This one had to be perfect, and if it wasn’t working now she might as well try again on a later date. If it wasn’t perfect … well, for who it was going to she’d accept nothing less from herself. Would it sting more if they knew the effort she put into it? When the time comes? 

Generally, that thought would’ve kept her mind swirling for hours but she was so damn tired that as soon as she laid her head down on her bench to ‘rest’ for a moment, she was out. 

“Beautiful,” a lovely voice whispered into her ear, a warm hand running down her arm, warmth spreading behind her. She jerked up, nearly falling out of her chair. 

“Shit,” she muttered, glancing at the clock, dings and tears on the outside. Worn down from where years ago it was shiny and new. It only started breaking down more after she moved to the castle. 

Aelin laughed, the sound beautiful and carrying. She glanced at her pregnant mate, Radiant as always. “You should get some more sleep,” she tutted. 

“You’re pregnant you should be,” she yawned, hand covering her mouth. 

“Hush,” Aelin murmured, reaching a hand to her. In her tired state, the hand seemed like a lifeline, a symbol. She took the land, but used her other to push herself out of her seat, refusing to let Aelin do any lifting. 

“I’m not incapable,” Aelin said, an edge to her tone. 

“You’d do the same to me,” she countered, pulling her hand away to cross her arms in mock stern-ness. 

Aelin frowned and snatched her hand back. “This is mine,” she flipped it off and placed a kiss on her palm, before tugging her towards the door, “and I’m hungry.”

Not for the first time that day, she wondered if she was doing the right thing.

-

It felt like years, when in reality it was months, but eventually it was ready. 

“I need to go grab something,” she murmured one night, perhaps an hour or so before they’d turn down for bed. Rowan and Aelin didn’t particularly like when she went wandering around alone after dark, but this was when she wanted to give it to them. “From my workshop,” she clarified. 

“Nobody’s stopping you,” Rowan sounded a little snippy. 

Throat tightening, she nodded and turned, blinking back tears at the slight embarrassment. Has nobody really been stopping her? Had this all actually been inside of her head? 

“Wait,” Rowan’s voice floated through the open doorway. She turned to see the male standing there, filling the space completely, the corners of his mouth softened slightly. “Let me come with you.” 

“You can’t,” she backed away, but a natural smile started playing on her lips. “It’s a surprise.” 

“I’ll close my eyes,” he took one step into the hall. 

“No,” she insisted. She’d worked too hard on it to have the surprise ruined for one of them. It had to be both or nothing. 

“Fine,” he rolled his eyes lightly, but she could’ve sworn she detected some fondness in his tone. “Be quick,” he added. 

She shifted, senses sharpening, a white fox sprinting down the hall. A fae female carried back the gift, perfectly wrapped in a small gold box, a neat bow sealing it. 

-

The cautious way she held it caught Aelin’s attention first, as if it was the most precious thing she’d encountered in so very long. She knew instinctively it was one of her creations. 

Do you know what this is? She looked at Rowan. 

No, he answered her silently, and she caught the curiosity in his eyes, probably reflected in her own. 

She motioned for Rowan to sit, and he did - amusing her. Her mate’s thigh pressed against her own, a strong and comforting weight. She stood before them, and held it out almost like someone presenting a gift at court, her hands shaking slightly. Her hands rarely shook. Aelin frowned, but working in-sync she and Rowan took the box together. 

Carefully, the bow was slid open, the lid tilted back - an involuntary gasp left her. She nearly dropped it. Thanks the fucking Gods Rowan was holding it or she might’ve spiraled if she’d somehow broken it. 

A beautiful glass sphere, painstakingly decorated with the Lord of the North, trees, rivers, mountains, kingsflame, and several other tiny decorations that must’ve taken her hours. How long had she been working on this?

More than that, as far as Aelin knew it was the first glass decoration she’d created since the episode, as she called it in her mind. 

Shattered glass. Blood. Screaming. She pushed it out of her mind, refocusing herself on the present. 

Rowan was already standing and embracing her. Carefully and slowly rising, she joined. 

For as long as it was together, the glass had a proud place on the mantelpiece, prime sight for any who walked in the rooms spot it. 

-

It was time. Barely a week after her gift, she’d received the imminent word Aelin was going into labor. An hour later, she ran. 

Not being there for her mate at her most vulnerable time nearly killed her, but she knew Rowan wouldn’t dare leave Aelin’s side to come look for her. They knew where she’d be, but they wouldn’t risk outraging the Wolf Tribe and alienating some of their subjects by coming to steal her in the middle of the night. She’d heard them acknowledge it before when they thought she was sleeping. They’ve always underestimated her, she thought. 

She wrote down the words rehearsed in her mind for months, edited and changed over and over again until they made sense. 

Don’t come looking for me, you know what will happen if you do. I’ll come back when I’m ready. I swear I love you. 

She sliced the tip of her finger with her dagger, let three drops, one for each of them, dripped onto the paper and folded it in three before placing it in as obvious of�� a position as possible, their names stitched on the front in her elegant cursive. Would they burn the letter or keep it? 

It didn’t matter. 

She snuck through the castle, taking servants passageways and back exits until she was at the edges of the city. Stashed in a hidden hole next to a tree were her supplies. She slipped her arms through the loops of the pack before setting off. 

The new tree growth and winter morning smelt like fresh air and freedom to her, like a new beginning and dawn she never thought she’d see, despite the strong and ever growing tug attempting to bring her back to her mates. 

That thought posed another question, could they really be her mates if she could hurt them like this? 

She knew, in her soul, this was a betrayal she’d never come back for. What she was breaking could never be remade in its original form or anything similar. She kept going, without so much as a look over her shoulder. Yes, she felt the pain and misery and likely would for the rest of her miserable immortal life but at least she did something for herself. 

-  

Rowan knew in his soul she was gone. Physically. 

If he detached himself from the situation, he would recognize how she had good timing and planning, perhaps even appreciate it. But he wasn’t, instead he was filled with fury. That fury was contained with his pregnant wife and mate currently in labor in front of him. Distracted enough she didn’t know yet, and he’d keep it that way for as long as he could. Rowan wasn’t certain he wouldn’t hurt her for everything she was about to put Aelin through. He couldn’t kill her but he could make her life a living hell and in his current anger he swore he would. 

Surrounding himself and the room in a shield of wind, drowning out all sounds, his shaking fingers closed around the glass orb she’d painstakingly created for them. Even months of work, fine lines and pure artistry were no help in quelling his anger. Rowan let his fingers release, and the orb smashed on the tile flooring. 

He already knew could be a vindictive and cruel son of a bitch, but she was going to find out just how cruel and vindictive he could be. Boots crunched over glass, her fate sealed. 

-

taglist: @wallacewillow0773638 @inloveallthetime @sstrohma @fightmedraco @daughterofthemoons-stuff @skinny-baby-4eva @feyres-fireheart @helloevilmuffins @panther-girl-124 @starsinyourseyes @natiebug1 @paleidiot @agent-anna @123345566

[acourtofquestions]

@the-unseelie

Aelin x Rowan - Throne Of Glass

Artist: imjenndove

“She smiled at last. And damn if it didn't kill him, the quiet joy in her face.

They had walked out of darkness and pain and despair together. They were still walking out of it. So that smile... It struck him stupid every time he saw it and realized it was for him.”

—Queen Of Shadows

[venusloverblue]

Rowaelin by @/j.sgrey

I think Rowan isn't a big fan of this kind of moments

[shyvioletcat]

ROWAELIN MONTH: DAY 4 - ACCIDENTAL NUDE

I had fun with this one. Took an unexpected approach but it’s still good.

~~~~~

Rowan was content with his night of leisure. Watching TV, filling in a page of his mindfulness colouring book, letting his thoughts idle around nothing. It was relaxing and he barely had a care in the world. That was until his roommate unceremoniously burst into his room without knocking. The door would have slammed into the wall if a washing basket hadn’t been tucked behind it.

“Fen, what the fu—“

“I’ve made a mistake,” Fenrys said quickly.

Rowan leveled him with an unsurprised glare. “Again?”

“Let’s just skip the whole ‘how remarkable it is for you to make a mistake’ sarcasm because this is very time sensitive,” Fenrys stepped into the room, hands gesturing one over the other in front of him. “And I need your help and I’m coming here because of how much I value your friendship because this concerns you as well.”

“All right,” Rowan said, pausing his show and crossing his arms, dreading whatever his roommate and long time friend might have dragged him into. “I’ll bite.”

Fenrys gave a sharp but heavy sigh that might have been out of relief. “Okay, you know that thing you do when you’re having two conversations, and you finish messaging on one and then you’re thinking about the other one and when you pick your phone you think you’re in that conversation?”

There was a moment when the two men just looked at each other, Fenrys waiting for Rowan to decipher the tangle of words. It did take a moment and even though Rowan wasn’t entirely sure he gave a hesitant, “Yeah.”

“I did that. With an intimate photo. I sent it to the wrong person.”

With a scoff Rowan said, “That sounds like a you problem.”

Fenrys cringed, looking guilty as well. “I sent it to Aelin.

“You what?” Rowan’s gut twisted.

“Remember I said I sent it to the wrong person. Aelin was asking me if I wanted to meet them at the bar they’re at and I was chatting to another girl and I got my lines crossed and I accidentally sent it to Aelin,” Fenrys explained, his words coming out fast in his uncharacteristic nervousness.

“You can’t unsend it?” Rowan asked.

Fenrys shook his head. “It was over text. There’s no taking it back.”

It was hard for Rowan to pinpoint exactly what he was feeling. Despair might be the most accurate description, with a decent mix of jealousy. That was stupid thing to feel, Aelin was his best friend and totally ignorant of his deeper feelings. If she was talking to other guys and receiving messages like the one Fenrys apparently mistakenly sent, that was her business, none of his. Rowan shouldn’t care, but by the gods he did.

“I know how you feel about her, Rowan. I would never do that to you,” Fenrys said earnestly.

One night Rowan had been miserable and more than a little drunk when his deepest secret had come spilling out to his roommate. Fenrys was the only one who knew about how far his feelings went for Aelin and he’d never pushed it. Every once and a while there was some teasing comment or a knowing look, but it would be a complete denial of Fenrys’ nature to do absolutely nothing. So when Fenrys said he didn’t mean to send the photo, Rowan believed him.

“I don’t know what you want me to do about it,” Rowan said.

“Ah, hear me out,” Fenrys said, his face lifting and leaning his palms on the foot of the bed. “She hasn’t seen it. So what you can do is go to the bar, get into her phone and delete the message before she can. I know you know her passcode, which is saying something more that I won’t mention further. Thus, preventing the ruination of her for all other men and preserving my modesty.” When Rowan outright laughed at that last comment Fenrys amended with, “Maybe just my embarrassment.”

“I’m sure Aelin would understand,” Rowan supplied. This all sounded a little too risky and it was late and he was comfy.

“I have never in my life sent an unsolicited dick pic and I don’t intend to start now,” Fenrys protested adamantly. “And bro code, she’s your girl. Not mine.”

If only that were true.

Groaning Rowan threw himself back on his pillows. There was an inner battle going on and he wasn’t a fan of the side that was currently winning. He hated that his main motivation for even considering going was for his own selfish reasons to prevent Aelin from seeing Fenrys naked. If Aelin was seeing a man naked, Rowan wanted it to be him. And Fenrys was a handsome man and he took care of his body—it would definitely be an appealing picture.

“Right now Aelin is dancing the night away, too busy to check her phone. We have a very small window of opportunity.” Fenrys added, cutting into Rowan’s thoughts. “Please, Ro, buddy, old pal. Save me from being a creeper. We all know girls talk about these things.”

Fenrys looked over with puppy dog eyes, beseeching Rowan to say yes. It was obvious Fenrys’ pride was at stake but he was also trying to do the gallant thing, So Rowan resigned himself with his second heavy sigh. “Where am I going?”

~~~~~

The bar was busy and loud when Rowan got there. Even then it didn’t take long for him to spot Aelin and the group she had come out with tonight. They commanded the dance floor, all high energy and clothing that sparkled in the low light. Aelin was in the middle of it, a queen in her chosen domain. It was hard not to stare at her, the joy on her face making her more beautiful if it were possible. Rowan had been invited on this little outing, but he’d declined. Being in his final semester of university he was being slammed with assignments and he was exhausted. A night in was what he needed, and yet it wasn’t what he was going to get. Fenrys would owe him for this.

Aelin spotted him first, smiling brightly as she waved at him through the crowd that he lingered on the edges of. Rowan didn’t know how she knew he was there, but she’d looked right at him. Then she was leaning in and saying something to Lysandra and started to weave through the mass of bodies. It wasn’t long before Aelin was close enough for Rowan to get a clear look at her.

She looked stunning tonight. The dress she wore was made of a cream fabric, small clusters of gold sequins making a haphazard but tasteful pattern. The hem sat high on her thigh, a small slit accentuating the length of her tanned legs. The real show stealer was the neckline that scooped low with a slight drape, held up with thin straps, showing off her cleavage. Aelin was a sight to behold and Rowan had to remind himself that friends didn’t look at each other like the way he was looking at her and he better fix his face before she got closer and noticed.

Aelin was so happy to see him, a wide smile lighting up her face. The way she looked at him did funny things to his heart and Rowan tried to ignore it. When Fenrys was in the mood to pester he asked why Rowan hadn’t confessed his true feelings yet. The truth of it was that he couldn’t risk losing her, if she didn’t feel the same he knew their friendship would dissolve into awkwardness and he cared too much about her to ruin what they had. So he stayed silent and suffered.

“Rowan! What are you doing here?” Aelin asked as she threw her arms around his neck, the scent of her perfume overtaking the smell of alcohol and sweat of the bar. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

When Aelin pulled back Rowan shrugged. “Changed my mind.”

She didn’t go far or let him go, instead linked their elbows. “Good. I’ve missed you.”

He couldn’t help the smile that worked its way onto his lips and the sentiment, or the way his body welcomed her touch. The others had made their way off the dancefloor too, crowding around a tall table. For a while everyone just chatted. Elide and Lysandra were there, Aedion had tagged along as well. Dorian and Manon were pretending not to be interested in each other much to the quiet amusement of everyone.

“Want a drink?” Dorian asked across the table.

“No, I can't stay long,” Rowan replied.

Aedion followed Dorian to the bar, leaving Rowan with the girls who had taken up a conversation amongst themselves. Rowan cataloged whose bag was who’s, relieved when Aelin reached into her bag for lipgloss and not her phone. He still had time, he just needed everyone else to leave so he could ransack Aelin’s bag. The song changed and all three girls squealed. Despite the noise of the club the combined high pitched sound of their excitement hurt his ears.

“Come dance, Rowan!” Aelin said, holding her hand out to him.

“I’ll stay with the table, you go,” Rowan told her.

She looked ready to protest but she must have seen the pleading in his eyes that he was having trouble hiding. Rowan hoped he assumed it was over his reluctance to dance rather than his ulterior motives. He watched as she disappeared through the crowd and onto the dance floor. The light flashed and the bass thrummed though his body, and all the while Rowan couldn’t look away. Aelin moved effortlessly to the beat, smiling and laughing with her friends. He could watch her forever, and he was so entranced that he almost forgot his purpose in being here.

Aelin had left her bag on the table and Rowan did a final check to see if he’d be busted before he opened it. Luckily, her phone was still in there and he wouldn’t have to try and get it off her person. Rowan tapped in her passcode, a string of numbers he didn’t know the meaning of and he was in. The little red bubble on her text app showed more than 100 unread messages. There were two types of people in the world, he was one and Aelin was the other. He ignored the irrational irritation seeing that unattended notification gave him and kept to his task. Fenrys’ thread was near the top, the preview saying there was an image in the latest text.

Rowan braced himself, living with Fenrys for as long as he had, he’d seen the man naked a few times under various circumstances. But Rowan had the feeling this was about to be an entirely different experience. With one final farewell to his current sanity Rowan opened the message thread and trying his hardest not to look he swiped left for delete. It was an impossible feat, he needed his vision to get rid of the evidence. Even squinting, Rowan copped an eyeful of a full frontal nudity mirror shot, everything at the ready. If only mind bleach existed. The photo had just disappeared from existence on Aelin’s phone when a voice came from right next to him.

“What are you doing?”

Rowan started so hard he dropped the phone on the table, the clattering heard over the music. He frantically tried to get it back into his hand, checking for damage because the last thing he needed tonight was to smash Aelin’s screen. Caught red handed Rowan turned, finding the phone’s owner right next to him. Her expression was both curious and amused, and expectant of an answer.

“Uh…” That was embarrassingly the best that Rowan could do.

That only made one corner of Aelin’s mouth crook upwards as she lent on the table to get closer to him. “Why do you have my phone? And what were you doing just before I busted you?”

“Well, I can blame Fenrys for that, for everything actually,” Rowan offered lamely.

“Fenrys?” Aelin asked.

“Yeah, he needed a favour,” Rowan explained.

Aelin just looked more confused by the second. “What does that have to do with my phone?”

“You see—”

Rowan was interrupted by Dorian and Aedion returning to the table, drinks in hand. No one noticed the tension between him and Aelin, or the fact the phone was still in his hand. Conversation broke out around them, but neither joined in. Aelin just had him pinned with her turquoise eyes still waiting for her answer.

Leaning in, Rowan whispered, “I don’t think this is the right place for this,” he handed the phone back. “Can I tell you later?”

It seemed this was one thing that Aelin didn’t have the patience for. She took her phone from Rowan, and then with her unoccupied hand she twisted a fist into the hem of his shirt, dragging him off his stool, giving him no option but to follow her. There were questioning looks from just about everyone they passed, Aelin ignored them and Rowan did his best to as well. They made quite the sight with Aelin physically dragging him off to wherever she deemed an appropriate place to continue this conversation. She didn’t let go until they were outside, taking him around the corner so they were off the main street and in a little alleyway instead.

“All right, Whitethorn. Spill,” Aelin said, leaving him against the wall while she stood in front of him, hands on her hips. “Why were you going through my phone?”

Rowan was trapped, nowhere to go unless he could melt into the wall. “It’s a long story.”

“Oh, I’ve got time,” Aelin assured him.

With the wall at his back and the unrelenting force of a woman in front of him, Rowan truly felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He might as well be honest about it.

“I was deleting a message from Fenrys. He accidentally sent you a nude, so he asked me to delete it before you could see it,” Rowan succinctly put it.

“That was mighty noble of him,” Aelin said, laughter shaking her voice. “And you might I add. I’m curious as to why he sent you, you aren’t always the most benevolent when it comes to Fen’s stupidity.”

Standing here in front of Aelin admitting his wrong doings had Rowan flustered, her outfit wasn’t helping matters either. He was distracted and rambling, and words just started spilling out of his mouth. “It wasn’t just for him, it was for me too. Fen’s knows I’m in love with you and he felt bad and—”

“Wait, what did you say?” Aelin’s hand darted out, landing on his chest.

“Shit…” That was when he realised what he’d said. That he’d dobbed himself in.

Aelin stepped closer, right into his personal space. She’d been this close to him a million times before, but this time it felt different. There was something charged between them. Rowan didn’t dare breathe, afraid to break whatever spell they were under. Aelin reached out the palm of her hand burning through his thin t-shirt.

“Rowan, what did you say?”

That long held breath shuddered out of him, there was nowhere for him to go, nowhere for him to hide. It was now or never, and if he lied to her, Aelin would know it in a second.

“I said I was in love with you.”

Aelin stared at him for a long moment, then there was a cluster of rapid blinks and she shook her head just a little bit. Rowan’s heart threatened to break, his mind imagining all the devastating sentences she might say. None of those came, instead she glanced up at him with an almost shy expression, if she could ever be called shy.

“I thought it was just me,” Aelin whispered.

The words were said so quietly Rowan couldn’t be sure if he’d heard them or imagined them. “What?”

Aelin’s answer was to reach for his t-shirt again, this time up near his collar and pulling him down. Soft and inviting lips met his, the shock of it melting away as Aelin’s tongue swept over his lips. He groaned, on hand on her hip and the other on the small of her back bringing her closer. Aelin came willingly, her body melting against his. When his hand slid up her back to the nape of her neck she sighed, letting him angle her head the exact way he wanted.

Kissing Aelin lived up to every expectation—and then some. His fantasties never did her justice, there was something about the way she kissed him. It was like walking into a wildfire and letting it consume you. Rowan couldn’t get enough. They only stopped when he had to come up for air. He didn’t let her get far though.

Rowan held her, his chin resting on her head. When she laughed Rowan pulled back kissing Aelin’s cheek before she looked up at him.

“I can’t believe it took Fenrys sending me a nude for us to finally admit our feelings,” she said, her laughter shaking her voice.

“That was also not on my list of possibilities,” Rowan agreed with a light chuckle. “His situation is not one I’d ever be caught in.”

Aelin drew back to look up at him. “Wait, you mean you’ve never sent a nude before.” When Rowan shook his head her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Seriously?”

“I… no. Is that weird?” Rowan was suddenly feeling a little self conscious.

“Well, no. Maybe a touch unusual,” Aelin admitted.

There was an implication floating between Aelin’s words, and it had his hand tightening ever so slightly on her hip. “You have?”

Aelin gave him a smirk that told him she knew exactly what realm his emotions had wandered off to. He was getting jealous. “Every now and then, always tasteful though.”

Through the teeth cracking tightness of his jaw all Rowan could manage was soft, “Oh.”

The poorly hidden display of his emotions made Aelin laugh and she was kissing him again. The worry fading from him as the reality of what was happening really set in. His. Aelin was well on her way to being his and it was so godsdamned stupid of him to be jealous. Rowan wouldn’t let anything ruin this moment.

“Will you come back in?” Aelin said onto his lips, like she couldn’t bear to pull away.

With Aelin’s body pressed against him like this it was a tempting offer. But he was tired, and unless it was just him and Aelin he didn’t particularly feel like socialising. Plus, this was new. Rowan didn’t know how he was supposed to act, he certainly wouldn’t be able to pretend things hadn’t changed. He would give them away in half a second. There would be questions and he and Aelin hadn’t even had a chance to talk about it properly.

“I’m gonna go home,” Rowan said, kissing her in between words. “But tomorrow, I promise.”

He didn’t exactly know what he was promising, but tomorrow they would figure everything out.

“Okay,” Aelin said.

When she stepped away Rowan’s body screamed in protest. He would go home, fall asleep, and make tomorrow come that much sooner. Aelin was outright grinning as she took a few steps backward, eyeing him up with intent. It had heat rushing to Rowan’s cheeks made worse when she winked suggestively at him.

“Make sure you keep your phone close. Who knows what kind of messages are flying around these days.”

Rowan didn’t know what to say to that, what to think about the promise she was hinting at between the lines. No matter what, Rowan wouldn’t let his phone drift too far. When Aelin was gone from sight and Rowan composed himself, sending a quick message to Fenrys to let him know his mission was accomplished before starting on his way back home, to wait, and his outlook on life that much brighter.

~~~~~

There is a very fun part two in the works *smirks* @rowaelinscourt

[milswrites]

Forever Entwined

~ Eris Vanserra X Reader

The third and final part in the One Last Night Mini Series.

Series masterlist

Summary: Now free from the cruel grasp of his father, Eris is the new High Lord of the Autumn Court. After reluctantly avoiding you for a few days while his new power settles, Eris takes it upon himself to show you just how much he missed you when he returns.

Warnings: Smut!!! MDNI 18+ piv, oral (f receiving), fireplay? (Think Rowaelin beach scene)

It had been five torturous days since you last saw Eris. Since you last held his shaking form on the floor of the throne room. The transition began soon after his father’s death, Beron’s formidable powers now flowing through Eris’s veins. The male had known enough about the process, known about how a High Lord coming into their power can bring forth their primal instincts, how it can heighten your emotions until you’re uncontrollable and insatiable. The unpredictability of how he would act was enough for him to beg his mother to take you away as soon his family crashed into the room, shock across their faces as they took in the sight of a bloodied Eris and his deceased father.

Doing as her eldest son commanded she grabbed you by your arm, ripping you from the growling male as she tried to remove you from the room. You didn’t make it easy for her, trying to break her firm grip so you could run back to a now screaming Eris. The Autumn Prince had begun to writhe in pain, his body trying to fight the invasive powers forcing their way into his system, contaminating his very being until it flowed through him as naturally as blood.

It was agony, leaving Eris while he was in such a fragile state, but his mother continued to walk you away from the scene. Whispering words of support, of how Eris would come find you when the transformation was complete and her son had control over his senses.

That was five days ago. You were aware of the new duties he would be forced to endure as High Lord, especially if he wanted there to be a smooth transition of leadership. It would take time to weed out the thorns his father had nurtured in Autumn during his centuries of control.

His disheveled mother had shown up at the door of your bed chambers two nights ago, face drawn with fatigue as she no doubt had spent the past few days tending to her struggling son. Her news, despite how her appearance may have told you otherwise, was good. Eris’s powers had finally settled and the agony he had been forced to endure had come to an end.

Foolishly you believed that this would mean the male would come and seek you out. That he would desire to speak about what had unfolded the night he left just as much as you did. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on your side. Two long days had passed since his mother arrived at your door and there was still no sign of Eris.

You tried to search for him, wandering past his office multiple times a day and occasionally hovering by the throne room. However, he was never present anywhere you went and a horrible sinking feeling in your gut told you that the new High Lord had been avoiding you.

A cruel voice in your ear, one only you could hear, whispered twisted tales of how the soon to be Autumn King thought himself too good for you now. How you had only acted as a place holder until someone better and newer came along, you merely serving to entertain the male until that day arrived. You scarcely wanted to believe it, cursing the hellish thoughts of your own creation.

You loved Eris and he loved you too, of that you were sure. And so, difficult as it may have been, you continued on with your life. Keeping yourself busy in the hope that it would pass the time along faster, wasting away the minutes until you would face Eris again. Not having to wait too much longer, as the moment finally arrived soon after you returned to your usual routine.

~~~~~

He made his presence known by a firm knock at your door. Surprise crossing your face as you answered the call, finding it strange how something so ordinary could seem so unusual for you. All that time you had spent sneaking around and not once did you knock upon the others door before entering, not when that sound could lead to someone discovering your relationship. Yet here he was now, knocking on your door as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Any anger you had felt for the male drifted away as you absorbed his appearance. High Lord was a good look for Eris, his new powers allowing his skin to softly glow like candlelight. It was hypnotising, his burning ethereality which enabled him to be likened to a dancing flame. Though his new angelic form did nothing to hide the untamed beast waiting in anticipation, reflected in the wide, black pupils of his eyes.

“You’re here” you spoke, voice wavering in anticipation, eyes meeting his burning amber ones, transfixed by the flames dancing within.

“I’m here” he replied, voice thick with the new authority he held.

“Why now?” Your voice broke as you said the words aloud. You knew there was a multitude of reasons he could use to explain his absence, and for him you would understand each and every one of them. But a small part of you just needed to hear it spoken out loud, to be able to fully rid yourself of the fear and doubt which had crawled its way into your life just as soon as Eris had left it.

He took a deep breath before entering your room, pulling the door to as he did so. His actions providing him with the time needed to formulate his words. “I had to,” he explained, warm hands reaching out to hold you by your hips, needing to feel your soft touch to bring himself some stability, “The…the transformation has been so overwhelming.”

“I know that Eris, it’s ok. You don’t need to explain, I wouldn’t want you to go through it again” you spoke, placing a comforting hand on his chest. You could scarcely imagine what he had been through in the past week. Loosing you, having to kill his own father, the once alien powers which now coursed through him like the oxygen he breathes, the unwavering responsibility he held to his court. It was enough to drive anyone mad.

“No…” Eris replied as if reading your thoughts, “i’ve been in agony but not because of the change. No, staying away from you has been the hardest part of all. The torment of not being able to take you in the way I so desperately desired.”

A sharp breath caught in your throat, your fingers grasping onto the material of his loose white shirt, needing to ground yourself before your knees started to tremble at the force of his words, at their implications.

“Then why didn’t you take me?” You asked, failing to hide the slight tremble in your voice at the sight of his frenzied eyes, your lips drifting towards his in your mesmerised state. He twitched slightly, as if fighting some inner demon, and drew his lips away from yours so he could continue to speak before his senses ran away along with his control.

“Because,” he started, gliding a smooth hand up to your cheek so he could cup it, brushing his manicured thumb over your skin which was now blushing from the intensity of his gaze, “as much as I wanted to take you on my bed, rutting into you for hours like a feral beast, or devouring your taste as I worshipped you on my throne, I couldn’t. Not while I was so senseless I couldn’t offer you the apology you deserve.”

Despite his good intentions, you would be a fool to deny that you wouldn’t have minded enacting his fantasies. The image of the High Lord on his knees, his head between your thighs as you sat on his iron throne, was enough to bring a rush of pulsating need directly to your core.

Eris no doubt smelt your ever-growing arousal, a low growl escaping from his mouth as he attempted to reign in control of his impulses so he could provide you with the apology he came to deliver.

“I don’t regret it” Eris continued with his speech, but the tightening of his grip on your waist, enough to leave bruises in its wake, told you enough. His hunger for you in this moment was just as strong as yours was for him, “Telling you not to wait for me was the right thing to do. It was the only way to ensure you didn’t live a life of misery.”

You went to speak, to tell him how it didn’t matter and your life would have been miserable either way, after all there was no happiness without Eris. However, the male interrupted you, needing to get the words out whilst he was able to, whilst he was still in control.

“I want it all” he pleaded, “The cottage, the garden, the children. I want it all with you. It has to be you, if you want it that is.” The raw emotion that carried in the words Eris voiced was enough to bring tears to your eyes. “Yes” you didn’t hesitate to answer, wrapping your arms around his large frame to close the gap between you, his arms completely engulfing your small frame, “I want it too Eris. I need it. I need you.”

~~~~~

Your words were enough to snap the tether holding him back, the male lunging towards your neck, desperately leaving kisses onto the warm skin. His lips burned against you, branding you, marking you as his as he sucked harshly on the exposed skin, leaving a trail of purple bruises in his wake. His white hot hands exploring every inch of your body that he could possibly reach, your own doing the same to his.

The thirst for your palms to run across the smooth expanse of his bare skin was too great to ignore, breaking Eris’s assault of your neck to hurriedly tear his shirt over his head. Once the article of clothing was removed it was your turn to gift small bites and kisses to his trembling chest, following the path up to the sweet spot you were all to familiar with at the base of his neck, a pleased groan breaking from his throat once you found it, suckling against his warm skin.

His wandering hands found the back of your dress, nimble fingers brushing over the laces of your corset. Too impatient to break the moment and spend the time unlacing them, Eris ignited a glowing flame and set the dress alight. The blazing flames licking at your naked skin as the material turned to ash.

The golden flickers absorbing you in their heat didn’t burn, instead a pleasurable tingling sensation followed in their wake. Your wide eyes locking on to Eris’s own, black with lust at the sight of his fire devouring you, allowing you to burn brightly like you were a spirit of the sun.

Not needing to fear the heat you were emitting, his hands travelled to your breasts, allowing the tips of his fingers to brush over your sensitive nipples. His hungry lips following suit, closing around your breast and sucking, a strangled moan forcing itself from your mouth at his actions. “My little flame” he crooned as he turned his attention to your other breast, his tongue moving in time with the dancing flames that still engulfed you.

Needing more, the desire to feel him deep inside of you ever growing, you voiced your pleas to Eris, the male totally focussed on littering your breasts with purple marks, running his tongue along them as they formed, “Eris please!”

He stopped his actions at your cry, moving his lips upwards until they were almost touching your own, “What is it you desire, my little flame?” He asked, tantalisingly slow hand roaming down your body and towards your centre. “Is it this?” He teased, allowing his nimble fingers to glide through your soaked folds, thumb brushing against your pulsating clit causing you to cry out with pleasure. Sensitive after having not felt his touch for so long.

“Yes! Please Eris I need to feel you!” You begged, attempting to reach his belt so you could remove his last few items of clothing, mouth salivating at the sight of the bulge present through the fabric. The urge to drop to your knees and take his aching cock into your mouth was overwhelming.

“Hmm…” Eris smirked, laying a gentle kiss to your cheek as he brought his hand to his mouth to taste your wetness, pulling his fingers from his lips with a satisfied groan, “I think I need to show you just how much I’ve missed you first.”

And with that his mouth finally slanted against yours, pulling you into a burning passionate kiss, his teasing tongue running along the bottom of your lip before forcing its way into your mouth in order to deepen the kiss. From your position, the bare skin of your breasts pressed against his enticingly warm chest, you could feel his hard cock against you, begging for attention. Seeking some form of relief, you attempted to grind yourself against him and chase your pleasure yourself, frantically moving your pulsing body against his.

Your desperation pleased the male who let out a dark chuckle, breaking the kiss to whisper against your panting lips, “patience my flame.” His hands drifted towards your ass, rubbing the soft flesh tenderly before lifting you up, your legs wrapping around his waist tightly as he carried you towards your bed, his cock teasingly brushing against your core as you moved.

“Eris I need you” you whined as he laid you onto the silky sheets, crawling onto the bed after you and positioning himself between your open legs. Laying sweet kisses against the supple skin of your thighs, occasionally sucking the skin into a harsh kiss which would no doubt leave a bruise painted on you. Once he reached your core, heated breath panting against it, Eris looked up to you through hooded lids, his eyes full of awe as his voice twisted in an animalistic growl, “I want you to come apart on my tongue before you do on my cock little flame.”

With that his tongue licked a long, broad stripe against your soaking folds, a gruff moan leaving the males mouth from the taste of you. His hips pressing into the mattress to relieve some of the pressure he was feeling, rough hands flying up to your own waist to hold you down as your back arched off the bed in pleasure. Mind transported into another reality as his tongue performed wanders as it moved against your core, lapping up every bit of you as he could. Devouring you like a man starved.

Loud moans of approval escaped your lips, eyes slamming shut in bliss as one of his hands moved down from your waist to join his mouth in its actions, Eris inserting a long finger inside of you until you felt the cold metal of his rings at its base. You gasped at the sensation, his tongue moving to flick against your clit. Wave after wave of unquenchable pleasure flushed through your system, your hips starting to move against his face in time with his lapping tongue to chase after the release you desired. Eris’s pleasured growls vibrating against your core as his face became drenched with your wetness.

Understanding your body’s reaction as you grew closer to completion, Eris inserted another delectable finger. Curling it deliciously inside of you, until he was met with a cry of delight as he found the sweet spongy spot inside of you. Wringing every ounce of pleasure from you as you squirmed at his touch.

Unintelligible words of praise slipping from your mouth as your orgasm washed over you, insides tightening and writhing at your satisfaction. A shaky hand flying to grasp Eris’s hair, the male still happily devouring you as you rode your orgasm to completion. Skilled tongue continuing to lap lazily at your clit once your high had sated.

Impatient and still needing more, needing to be brought to completion by his merciless cock, you tugged on his auburn hair, pulling him from his position between your shaking thighs until he was face to face with you once more. Your content eyes meeting his wild ones. You palmed him through his trousers, drawing a deep whimper from the male as you did so, the sound causing your hands to fly to his belt in order to relieve him of his clothes so he would be as equally bare as you.

He stopped you, grabbing your wrists before placing them on either side of your head, locking them in place, a cocky smirk on his face as he looked to your desperate one, “allow me my love.”

Eris burst into flames.

A burning white-hot wildfire, which just as he had done for you, burned the fabric until it fell from his glowing skin. Snakes of sentient flames travelling down his arms and joining with yours before they began to dance against your skin once more. An amazed laugh broke from your lips, Eris resembling a burning phoenix before you, the mass of flames which swirled around him resembled a pair of fiery wings.

Your appreciation of the god-like view of the male before you was cut short, laugh twisting into a strangled cry as Eris lined his painfully leaking cock up against your entrance, pressing the head of it into you as a flash of pleasure raced through you at its presence at your core. It didn’t matter how many times you had laid together, you still felt the delicious stretch of pain every time the man entered you, his large cock almost tearing you in two.

A hearty groan upon his lips, Eris entered you fully, slowly inserting himself until he was fully sheathed, allowing you some time to adjust to his size as he kissed your lips, distracting you from the twinge of pain. Once you were ready, craving the rough pounding of his cock, you bucked your hips against him signalling him to start moving.

You thrusted in sync, finding a matching rhythm instantly as if you were twin flames, prayers of adoration for the other person leaving each of your lips as you moved. Eris burned like a roaring fire, the extra heat he was letting off proving a delightful tingle that edged you closer and closer to release.

Needing more you groaned, “Harder, my Lord.” Eris’s powerful thrusts stuttered at your words, a feral moan slipping from his lips as you called him by his title. The male having to still himself and take in a deep breath to prevent himself from spilling into you before you climaxed himself. Once he felt he had regained enough control to continue he spoke. “Say it again” he begged through gritted teeth, wanting nothing more than to hear the words from your lips again.

“Fuck me harder my Lord”

His blazing wildfire burst into an uncontrollable inferno, the burning flames now covering the entirety of the bed, the silk sheets transforming into ash as your passionate embrace fuelled the crackling plumes. Eris pulled out fully before snapping his hips back into you roughly until he was once more consumed by you in entirety, delivering powerful thrust after powerful thrust. Cries of bliss flowing from each of your mouths.

Your hands, now free from his hold, moved to the expanse of muscle which rippled along his back, nails scratching deep red lines of passion into him. If Eris was to mark your body as his, you would do the same to him.

He worked fast, pounding away until you were completely consumed by your release. The force of your climax so strong that the image of Eris above you blurred in your vision, your sight being replaced with the starting blue flame of heated pleasure flashing across your eyes.

Eris continued to mercilessly thrust into your trembling body as he chased to meet his own high, failing to bite back the strangled curses which left his mouth as release washed over him. Thick ropes of cum filling you, leaking from your folds as his thrusts slowed and he removed his cock from your sensitive core.

The flames vanished into nothing as he collapsed against you whilst panting heavily, both your bodies covered in a film of sweat. He cupped your cheek as he admired your spent form, the way your hair was clinging to your forehead, the red flush covering your cheeks from the heat he had radiated, your parted lips soft and swollen from the loving kisses and bites shared between you.

Eris looked at you as if you were his entire world, as if you were the reason his flame burned as brightly as it did. Your presence being his fuel.

“I will never leave you again” Eris swore once his breath had returned, sealing the promise with a tender kiss upon your lips, “I meant it when I said I wanted everything with you.”

“It’s ok Eris” you smiled softly, fingers brushing against his cheek as he closed his eyes in contentment, “thanks to you we have forever.”

And that was the truth, there was no need for you to hide your relationship any longer. You and Eris were free to be together, to live the life you had planned together all those years ago whilst hidden behind closed doors. You would never have to hide again.

The fire which burned between the two of you was eternal, and you would cherish it for as long as it flickered.

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

Notes: well that happened 🫣 I was so scared to post this because I’ve never written smut before so if it’s bad please forget this ever happened!!

Taglist: @crazylokonugget @glitterypirateduck @eve175

[acourtofquestions]

Also the fact Aelin got to say them, took the time, & felt safe enough to do so. And then you have Rowan who remembered, took the time to say the same things back (and then some).

Which is SO extra important because she has carried the grief with Sam for so long of all the things she never got to say, she didn’t get to say I love you too (“I hate packing” will forever haunt me, though it’s still a beautiful scene, OW!) or even the grief of all the people in her life that did not love her right or used her desperate wish to be loved against her (*coughs* I hate Arobynn & the one time he uses it to manipulate her) so those words are a big deal not just on a romantic level but a fundamental human one.

And then the same goes for Rowan, who has believed/said he “believes” that “the people you love are just weapons that will be used against you” and here he is loving her. Taking the time to say it (he didn’t get enough time with Lyria and has carried every last word (carved into his very skin) for centuries), knowing how much it means for both of them, and being “unafraid” too (for her & with her).

⚠️⚠️SPOILERS FOR QUEEN OF SHADOWS ⚠️⚠️

I. LOVE. ROWAN. SO. MUCH

“You make me want to live too, Aelin Galathynius”

“Not exist - but live”

"I spent centuries wandering the world, from empires to kingdoms to wastelands, never settling, never stopping— not for one moment. I was always looking toward the horizon, always wondering what waited across the next ocean, over the next mountain. But I think... I think that whole time, all those centuries, I was just looking for you."

He’s literally the standard. I don’t want to hear I love you. I want to hear this shit.

And the fact that Aelin said something similar a couple chapters back?? 😭😭😭😁

[elainemg97]

❤️ACOTAR multiple bonds theory❤️

🛑MAJOR SPOILERS for ACOTAR and Crescent City Series (especially HOFAS)🛑

Summary: I believe there to be 2 types of mating bonds in the ACOTAR universe specifically. 1 bond is the original bond that spans universes and planets. The kind of bond that is there since you are born. This bond transcends worlds and species. It pairs humans with Fae, demons and Fae, Illyrians with high Fae, etc.

Examples: Feysand, Nessian, Rowaelin, Quinlar, Theia x Aidas, Elorcan, etc.

Cauldron Bonds: When the Asteri moved into Prythian, they used and corrupted the cauldron to do their bidding. One of these corruptions was to pair people together for the best breeding outcomes. They love to experiment and pair people together to produce the best offspring in CC, and it wouldn’t surprise me that they did the same in ACOTAR. This bond is flimsy and weak. People hate each other after a time because it is based on breeding, not soul pairings.

Conclusion: The Elain and Lucien bond is a cauldron bond— an Asteri bond. It is solely made for breeding purposes.

Conclusion number 2: Elain and Azriel have had a connection since they first met in the human lands, and Azriel is progressively suffering the consequences of having the bond being unacknowledged. He’s having headaches; he can’t sleep; he has “writhing need.” He’s in his “I can’t stay away” moment. 🤭

Conclusion 3: Lucien could potentially break the cauldron bond as it is a possible ancient Asteri spell. That or they could use Truthteller to unmake the bond and possibly de-corrupt the cauldron.

[shadowsatdawnx]

considering there were people that believed feylin would be endgame and nessian wouldn’t be, it’s very clear that no matter how obvious SJM writes her couples there will still be people unable to pick up the clues.

i knew feysand would be endgame by the end of the first book. i knew el*cien was doomed and elriel and nessian would be endgame by the end of ACOWAR (hell, i was almost certain of it by the end of ACOMAF.)

even in throne of glass, i knew chaol x celaena were doomed at the end of CoM and knew rowaelin would be endgame by the end of HOF. i knew nesryn and chaol weren’t serious, i never questioned for a second that they would last just because of the way they thought of and interacted with each other, but when yrene and sartaq showed up i knew that those would be the paths they took instead. the first moment manon and dorian met it wasn’t even a question. they’d be together.

literally all of her couples are obvious. i don’t know where this narrative came from “SJM wouldn’t make it that obvious!” she would. she always does. i’m sorry if you struggle to pick up on that, it doesn’t make it less true.

[acourtofquestions]

😅😂🤣😭🫶 THE GOALS ARE UNATTAINABLE & YET THEY SHALL 👏NEVER👏BE👏LOWERED👏 … so imma just sit here and cry over Rhys & Feyre being domestic spouse material

I die for these soft, domestic moments...

I laughed in earnest, and squeezed his face as I pressed a swift kiss to his mouth. “Shameless flirt.” The warmth returned to his eyes at last. ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ I kissed his bare neck, and he reached back to drag a finger down my cheek. ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Rhys came over and handed me a hairpin. We worked in unison, pinning my hair into place. Rhys pinned a hard-to-reach section of my hair. ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ He leaned down, nuzzling my throat. “Don’t you want to comfort your mate, who has missed you terribly these weeks?” I planted a hand on his face and pushed him back, scowling. “I want my mate to tell me where the hell he was. Then he can get his comfort.” Rhys nipped at my fingers, teeth snapping playfully. “Cruel, beautiful female.” ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ I studied the hand, the ravaged face. Such pain lingered there—and exhaustion. The face he never let anyone see. I pushed up onto my knees and kissed his cheek, his skin warm and soft beneath my mouth. ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ So I wrote back, At least you make up for your shameless flirting by being one hell of a High Lord. He’d returned that evening, smirking like a cat, and had merely said “One hell of a High Lord?” by way of greeting. I’d sent a bucket’s worth of water splashing into his face. Rhys hadn’t bothered to shield against it. And instead shook his wet hair like a dog, spraying me until I yelped and darted away. His laughter had chased me up the stairs. ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ A half smile that had me walking toward him, stopping between his legs. He braced his hands idly on my hips. He rested his brow against my chest, right between my breasts, and wrapped his arms around my waist. For a long minute, he only breathed in the scent of me, as if taking it deep into his lungs. ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ “You look exhausted, that’s why.” He put a dramatic hand over his heart. “Your concern warms me more than any winter fire, my love.” I rolled my eyes and sat up. “Did you at least eat?” He shrugged, his dark shirt straining across his broad shoulders. “I’m fine.” His gaze slid over my bare legs as I pushed back the covers. Heat bloomed in me, but I shoved my feet into slippers. “I’ll get you food.” “I don’t want—” “When did you last eat?” A sullen silence. “I thought so.” I hauled a fleece-lined robe around my shoulders... “You don’t need to—” “I want to, and I’m going to.”... “Did you eat at all today?” “I had an apple this morning.” “Rhys.” He set down his fork, his mouth twitching toward a smile. “Feyre.” I crossed my arms. “No one is too busy to eat.” “You’re fussing.” “It’s my job to fuss. And besides, you fuss plenty. Over far more trivial things.” ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ “You look beautiful tonight.” His words were low, rough. I stroked a hand down the lap of my gown, the fabric shimmering beneath my fingers. “You say that every night.” “And mean it.” ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ His fingers threaded through my hair, tilting my face up. That wicked smile grew, and my toes curled in their boots. “There’s my darling Feyre.”