#Throne of glass fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hunnyrants · 10 days

Text

A/N welcome to part 2 thats been written for like 4 months but was forgotten about entirely 🤠 oops? not proofread, we die like men.

Pairing: Azriel X Cadre!Reader

Summary: After a few days in the night court with your mate, you have nightmares triggered by the unfamiliar environment.

Warnings: PTSD, trauma induced nightmares, mentions of dying, mental torture, dissociation, angst, fear of the dark

Nightmare Pt. 2

Azriel's hands were trembling. Cassian noticed them immediately after he broke down the massive oak doors. Alarm had filled him once the house's lights began flickering as he was readying for bed and the doors threw open on their own. Even more so when he'd run in and seen you unconscious and clutched protectively in his arms as if you might slip away from him at any second. The room was trashed as well, but even that seemed secondary when the scent of his highlord was fresh in the room and nowhere to be seen.

Cassian opened his mouth to ask for Rhys’ whereabouts, when the muted sound of retching filled the room- Azriel curled tighter around you at the sound. Cass turns towards the set of doors leading to your closet and bathing room, striding towards them immediately before knocking furiously.

“Rhys?”

A beat of silence.

“A minute, please.”

Taken aback slightly by the curt response, Cassian turns back towards Azriel who has his nose and mouth pressed against the side of his mate's head. His wings curled around the two of you as a barrier but low enough that he can still see over them and into the room beyond. The incessant ticking of the clock on the mantel seemed to be a hammer taken to a coffin, Cass had counted up to nearly a hundred before Rhys finally stepped out of the washroom.

He opened his mouth as if to say something but glanced at Azriel who had yet to make note of his entrance into the room.

“I felt her blood oath,” was all that came out.

“To the fire breathing bitch queen? That must've been rough,” Cass says, an attempt at brightening the mood. Stars guttered in Rhys’ eyes though.

“Yes, but there was an older one,” he shakes his head and drags a hand over his mouth. Cassian helps himself to the small bar near the fireplace of your rooms and pours Rhys a finger's worth of whiskey. He pauses for a moment, glancing at Azriel. Would he even notice if there was a drink put in front of him?

Likely not, not with the slight tremors that even the feared shadowsinger couldn't hide. And definitely not with the glare he's leveling at Rhys.

“It… fuck,” Rhys presses the heels of his palms against his eye sockets and pushes deeply, causing spots to appear across his vision that nearly blend in with the frantic shadows that are swarming around the unconscious female.

Cassian pours Azriel a drink finally and sets it on the nightstand before handing Rhys his. Rhys sets it down without drinking it and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“It was just an echo of what was once there. But it ran deep.” Rhys takes a deep breath, ”Her old master was daemati, and wielded shadows as well.”

A low growl comes from deep in Az's chest in response, making Cass raise his brows and his brother droop more somehow. A roaring begins in his head as he contemplates what could have been so bad to have Rhys this rattled, he hasn't been like this since Nesta had her own nightmares a year prior.

Cassian was very glad then that Nesta had listened and stayed behind in their shared room.

“She was the queen's right hand, had the blood oath and her own mind used against her,” he pauses again and seems to brace himself. Rhysand raises his head and catches his brother's eye.

“Azriel is going to react badly.” the highlord's voice ringing clearly through the general's head. A subtle order and one not easily given. Cassian widens his stance and braces himself for the storm.

“She was enslaved for over 500 years-” he says finally, “-I reminded her of it enough that it triggered flashbacks.”

The room dropped several degrees as Azriel's shaking worsened and his grip shifted against you. A scarred hand sliding into your hair and tucking your head against the side of his neck, all while his eyes appeared to freeze over as he stared daggers at his highlord.

Cauldron and Mother above, the silence was unbearable.

Rhys put his hands up in a placating gesture, “Az-”

“No.” Helfrost seemed to coat the word as it left the shadowsinger's mouth.

“Not one more word Rhysand.”

The highlord of the night court winced. At the use of his full name and the fact it was his own brother who used it against him.

“Az, it's not like he did it on purpose,” Cassian attempted. “We didn't know. None of us could have.”

A humorless laugh left Azriel then.

“And yet Rhys saw fit to push so hard into her mind she couldn't even tell me herself.”

A pit formed in Cassian's stomach then, he hadn't considered that would have crossed his brother's mind.

“Because my magic is- was similar to the queens, her mind caved in easier than I expected.” Rhysand continues with a wave towards his face, “My physical attributes were another trigger. Black hair and even similar eye color, I think it was made worse when she saw me after her nightmare.”

“It was all bad.” He finishes, keeping his eyes on the male who looked torn between leaping across the room and throttling him and clutching the warrior in his arms.

Cassian moves to sit opposite Rhys in the plush forest green armchairs of your room. Angling himself to leap between the males if necessary.

“Where is Nesta?” Azriel breathes finally, his thumb brushing against the nape of your neck as his fingers gently scratch at your scalp. As if the soothing gesture might fix everything happening right now.

Cass stiffens and can't help his own instincts to protect his mate. “Waiting for me- did- do you want her here?”

Azriel closes his eyes and nods.

“She'll be safer with Nesta than anyone else here currently.”

“They will make for quite the duo,” Rhys says, the darkness in his eyes seeming to spread further. Azriel's lips pull back in a silent snarl when Cassian stands and claps Az on the shoulder, careful not to jostle him.

“Welcome to the ‘my mate has scary powers club’, brother,” Cass grins.

Rhysand heaves a long, suffering sigh as his eyes grow distant, contacting Nesta mind to mind rather than sending Cassian. Just in case Azriel decided he wanted to avenge any pain his mate was put in.

It took no more than a couple heartbeats to pass before Nesta shoves through the splintered door, her night slippers crunching against the pieces. Her silver eyes surveyed the trashed room quickly and ataraxia pulses gently with light in her hand.

Azriel cradling you against his chest with your legs strewn over his lap, perched on the side of the large bed built to accommodate wings and the dark teal bedding strewn about haphazardly. Nesta assessed her mate for injuries but quickly dismissed him as fine when she noticed the dark energy seemingly radiating off of Rhysand.

“Is the commander alright?” She asks finally, her quicksilver eyes catching hazel ones.

“Will you watch her for me?” Azriel dodges coldly but not unkindly.

Nesta nods and strides towards the bed where Azriel hesitates to part from the female despite his request. Eventually he does adjust you so you're laying properly on the bed and Nesta settles on the other side after setting her blade against the side of the bed. Nesta turns towards you then, brushing a lock of hair from your relaxed face and settles a cold soothing hand against your hot to the touch shoulder.

It was that movement alone that reassured Azriel enough to stand finally, his knees popping after being curled uncomfortably for too long.

“Tell me everything Rhysand, or I'm going to fucking lose it.”

Even Nesta looked at the highlord with pity as the words finished sounding, realizing they were all in for a long night.

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #azriel x cadre!reader #azriel x reader #fanfic #azriel angst #azriel acotar #queen maeve #aelin x cadre!reader #aelin ashryver galathynius #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass #cadre!reader #tog x acotar #tog x reader #acotar x reader #drabble #rhysand x reader #nesta x reader

94 notes · View notes

shadowdaddies · 7 months

Text

Phantom Touch

Dorian x Reader smut

A/N: just thinking about waking up with Dorian. that's it

warnings: smut below the cut, pwp, use of phantom hands, light bondage, fingering, p in v sex, slight praise/deg

A warm hand slid down the curve of your waist, the pleasant feeling stirring you from your sleep. Soft morning light already shone through the sheer curtains of your bedroom window, the covers warm beneath you from Dorian’s body so close to yours.

“Good morning,” you hummed, a feline grin on your lips as his hand moved lower, kneading your ass. A familiar coolness tilted your head back, phantom hand angling you just how Dorian wanted. Tongue flicked out against your neck, lips sucking on the sensitive skin below your ear, trailing lower in slow, teasing movements.

Dorian’s hand slid under your nightgown, gripping your backside firmly before fingers slipped between your legs. A whimper escaped you, breathy moans of your husband’s name as he slid along your folds.

A wild groan escaped him at the feeling of your slick dripping down your thighs. “Already so wet for me, angel?” he teased, nipping at your ear as his hand slid forward, fingers lightly brushing your clit. You jerked in his hold, back arching as a pathetic mewl escaped you.

“Please, please more,” you begged, hips grinding against his fingers, desperate for more friction. A dark chuckle sounded in your ear as his digits curled inside of you, hitting your walls at a perfect angle. You could barely give warning before your orgasm hit, juices soaking Dorian’s fingers as he groaned from behind.

“Good, good girl,” he murmured, hand drawing back as he sucked your slick from his fingers, lewd noises filling the air.

“Please, more,” you begged, ass arching against Dorian’s hard cock. “I need you, now,” breathless pleas escaped your lips as you grew increasingly desperate.

Dorian refused to be drawn into your pathetic show, his hands drawing out of you as leisurely as ever, wet slick coating your sides as he toyed with your stomach, nipples, throat.

“How do you need me?” he murmured, unable to fight the wicked grin as he pulled your back to his chest. Struggling for an answer, your brain fought the lustful haze to answer him.

“I- um, I need your cock, please,” you whimpered, flipping to your back. Sapphire eyes shone blue as your legs spread wide for him, granting easy access.

“Such a good little slut for me,” he murmured, eyes glazed as he focused on your pussy, dragging his cock along your folds. You mewled at the teasing sensation, his tip rubbing your sensitive bud, spreading your slick.

Writhing against his hold, you moaned out, “Dorian, please I-“

The cool caress of another phantom hand cut you off, fingers massaging your tongue, your muffled pleas growing as his length pushed inside of you. Head leaned back against Dorian’s shoulder, you sucked on the phantom fingers as his hips lazily rolled against yours.

“Good girl,” he murmured, lips spreading in a smirk against your neck. The way he nipped and licked at your exposed skin was nothing short of predatory, making your heart pound as his cock finally found your entrance, tip barely pushing inside of you.

Eyes rolled back as a pathetic mewl left your lips, drool slipping out around phantom fingers. With a dark chuckle, Dorian thrust into you in one smooth movement, his length stretching your walls in a delicious combination of pain and pleasure.

Slowly sliding out of you, Dorian moved his invisible touch from your lips, freeing your moans to echo through the room. An arm gripped your waist, holding you firm as Dorian snapped his hips back into you at the same time a slick finger flicked your clit.

Jaw fell open in a silent moan as you vaguely registered the phantom hand that had moved from your mouth to your clit, rubbing tight circles as Dorian grabbed your leg, spreading you open as he pounded into you from behind.

Cool breezes and teasing hands were everywhere - rubbing your clit, twisting your nipples, tugging your hair - as Dorian whispered filthy praises in your ear. Your high crashed over you quickly, body shaking from the intense pleasure.

Dorian didn’t let up, instead flipping you on your back as he continued fucking you into the mattress. The familiar feel of those cool hands brushed your wrists, guiding them above your head. Throwing your legs over his shoulders, Dorian filled you impossibly deep, hitting the perfect spot with thrust after thrust.

Gasping for air, you found Dorian’s sapphire gaze through blurred vision, brow furrowing as you attempted to whimper out the warning that you were close to your orgasm once again.

“I know, I’m close,” Dorian grunted, black waves of hair sticking to his forehead as his abs worked with each stroke. “Let go for me, love,” he gritted out, thumb finding your clit once more as the coil snapped.

Vision flashed white with the force of your orgasm, toes curling as you felt Dorian’s warm release fill you. Panting, he looked up at you with a satisfied smirk. “Feel alright, love?”

A raw giggle escaped you at his smugness, your husband knowing full-well just how alright you felt. Stretching your limbs, you yawned as you appraised the gorgeous male in front of you.

“I think the only thing that could make this morning better is a bath with my love, and some breakfast,” you hummed, legs lifting to wrap around Dorian’s waist as you smirked up at him.

Dorian’s eyes darkened slightly at the appearance of you, flushed and exposed in the morning light beneath him. “I think that can be arranged,” he whispered, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips before he rose to prepare the bath.

234 notes · View notes

verperina · 1 month

Text

On The Throne

Pairing: Dorian Havilliard x f!reader

Summary: Dorian fulfills your fantasy of being fucked on his throne.

Warnings: 18+ smut

Word Count: 2,943

Author’s Note: I’m not 100% satisfied with this, but I’m still proud of myself for finishing it. I stayed up until 4:00 in the morning to finish writing and editing, and then put it in my drafts. And please ignore how boring/dumb the title is. I couldn’t come up with anything else.

“Everyone out.” Dorian’s voice rang throughout the room, echoing off the marble floors. The guards quickly left, including Chaol who sent a glance toward his friend and then to you before shutting the doors behind him. The room was completely empty now. It was just you and Dorian, who still had his eyes on you.

Chaol had fetched you from the library, informing you that Dorian had requested your presence in the throne room, but did not say why. When you asked if something had happened, Chaol had quickly reassured you that the king was fine and had simply wanted to see you.

The way Dorian was currently looking at you—a predatory look in his eyes—made your heart skip a beat, and you took a moment to study his clothing. He always dressed immaculately, but today he showed to be the perfect portrait of royalty. His black hair neatly combed with a gold crown placed perfectly upon his head, a fitted black jacket embellished with red and gold, a silk tunic, black trousers and black knee-high boots. The wedding ring adorning his finger—a silver band with a sapphire jewel that matched your own—gleamed in the sunlight.

Your body started to feel warm, your dress too constricting.

The corner of his lip tugged upwards and he reached out a hand, gesturing for you to step up the dais. “Come here.”

You remained still. His eyebrows faintly rose at your defiance and you could see a sliver of amusement in his eyes.

“Ask nicely,” you said, a small grin starting to form on your lips, “and then maybe I will, husband.”

He chuckled, the noise coming out breathy. “Please, come here my dear wife.”

After a moment of mock contemplation, you obliged, slowly walking up the steps so you wouldn’t trip over the fabric of your dress.

Once you were within his reach, you grabbed his hand and laced your fingers together, looking at his wedding ring before speaking. “When Chaol came to get me I was worried at first—I thought maybe something had happened.” Dorian’s gaze softened. “He was quick to reassure me that you were more than fine, although he didn’t share why you wanted to see me.”

Dorian started to smile. “I didn’t tell Chaol why I wanted to see you.”

“And why is that?” you asked, head tilting to the side.

“Because I didn’t want him to know that I would very much like to fuck you on my throne.” You choked out a laugh and felt your face begin to warm. His smile widened at the sound, sapphire eyes bright. A few weeks ago, laying in your shared bed after hours of passionate love making, you had confessed to Dorian about your fantasy of having sex on his throne—with no one else in the room, of course—and he had only laughed and playfully teased you before fucking you once more. You thought he had forgotten all about it. Apparently not. He added, “But I’m sure he will figure it all out rather soon.” And then a sly grin came across his face. “If he doesn’t, then I’m sure the noises will be confirmation.”

“Your mother would be horrified if she found out,” you mused. It was no secret that Georgina Havilliard wasn’t overly fond of you. When envisioning a future wife for her eldest son she favored the idea of a princess or at least a woman of high nobility, not a commoner like you. But Dorian didn’t care about her opinion and had no problem voicing it. He loved you and that’s all that mattered.

Your husband only shrugged before lightly tugging your hand. You saw the mischievous gleam in his eyes and knew that he wanted to indulge you in your fantasy. You lowered yourself onto his lap, straddling his hips and his large hands immediately gripped your thighs. Bringing your hands to cup his jaw, your thumb lightly traced the sharpness of his cheekbone, and then brushed it against his bottom lip.

You let yourself take time in admiring his features. His beauty. Just Dorian himself. Your Dorian.

Removing your hands from his face, you lowered them to his shoulders, and then to the firm muscle of his abdomen through his clothing. His stomach tightened at your touch and with one last glance at his face, your lips found his in a soft kiss, one so at odds with the burning desire that snapped through the air. Your entire body was tingling from excitement and the feeling of his warmth seeping into you.

Dorian’s tongue meets yours tentatively, waiting for you to lead the kiss, letting you decide how you wanted it. You let yourself take control. You alternate between gently nipping his lips and stroking your tongue against his while running your fingers through his thick hair.

Your heart was racing and your face warm. Dorian pulled away to rest his forehead against yours. His lips were swollen from your kisses and his tanned face was a light shade of pink. “Tell me what you want,” he breathed, sapphire eyes glazed over with lust.

You swallowed, trying to catch your breath. “You.”

“Want me to make you feel good?” he murmured.

“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, and not bothering to wait for him to take control, your hands grip the collar of his tunic as you drag Dorian in for a kiss that’s desperate and a little sloppy. His tongue in your mouth once again, and his hands move to cup your ass, kneading the flesh. A pleased sigh leaves you.

He deepens the kiss. It’s demanding and ravenous. You let yourself melt into him, let yourself just be here in the now with him. Unashamed and happy. You teasingly roll your hips against his hardness, causing a wave of pleasure to shoot through you, and a low, rough groan escapes him. You repeat the motion again, feeling arousal pool between your thighs.

His lips began to plant kisses along your jawline, and then leaves a trail of kisses down the column of your throat. Sucking the skin before harshly biting, a gasp leaves you at the slight stinging sensation. “I want to see my marks on you.” And you wanted to see his marks on you too. You wanted everyone to know that no one could touch you like Dorian could. That no one would ever be able to please you like Dorian did.

His hands started to untie the front laces of your dress, your bare breasts now exposed, and your nipples hardening from both your arousal, and the cool air. His lips leave love bites on your neck and collarbones, and then your breasts. You looked at him to see that his eyes were already on you, pure hunger shining in them.

And when Dorian brought your nipple to his warm mouth, you couldn’t stop the strangled moan that left you. Your back arched as your hands came to rest on his broad shoulders. He continued his torturous teasing; the rough sucking, the gentle biting. Your head tipped back as his fingers tugged at your other nipple. “Dorian,” you mumbled. Your cunt was wet, the lace fabric starting to become uncomfortable.

He wasn’t using his phantom hands. He wanted you all to himself.

He lips wrapped around your other nipple, continuing the same ministrations but even more harsher this time. Your thighs tightened around him. He shuddered when your body moved against his, a debauched sound escaping his throat—a sound you wanted to hear more of.

You continued to slowly grind yourself on him, desperate for some kind of relief. A pathetic whimper was voiced when your sensitive clit rubbed against the fabric of his pants.

“I need more.” The words came out as a plea. It wasn’t enough. Your body craved more.

Dorian released his mouth from you, looking into your eyes and said, “Tell me what you need and I will give it to you.”

“You inside of me.”

Your fingers trembled as you quickly undid the button to his pants and then his zipper. He pushed the skirts of your dress further up until your panties were completely visible, and without hesitation he pushed the material to the side and slid a finger through your folds, a breath leaving him at the feeling of your wet cunt.

You brought Dorian in for another kiss, one that left you breathless, and then pulled back to look at him. His hair was messy from your fingers running through it, pretty flushed cheeks, and swollen lips. He still had the pale band around his neck from where the collar had been, but it did nothing to diminish his beauty.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathed.

Dorian laughed, his eyes glimmering with mirth, and your heart skipped a beat at how joyous it sounded. “I prefer devastatingly handsome.” He paused to kiss you once more. “But thank you.”

You smiled and opened your mouth to respond, but a moan came out when he slid a finger inside of you, purposefully slow. You looked down to see his finger sliding in and out, gathering more of your slick. “You like seeing me touch you?”

You nodded, slightly rocking your hips and bringing your hand down to rub your clit at a steady pace. A silent hiss left your lips at the contact, and pressure started to form low in your belly, a bundle of nerves starting to become more intense. His other hand kneaded your breast, adding more stimulation, making your orgasm grow nearer, even more so as a second finger entered you.

Your cunt started clenching rhythmically, eager to find that release you desperately wanted. You started rubbing your clit faster, feeling a sheen layer of sweat on your body and hairline despite the room being a little cold. You could only imagine how messy your appearance was right now, but you couldn’t bring yourself to particularly care.

Breathy gasps left you as you climaxed, your body shuddering from the intensity as Dorian helped you ride through your high. The feeling leaves you in ecstasy, slightly buzzed. Only when you stopped pleasuring yourself did he gently remove his fingers.

He brought them to his mouth, sapphire eyes glazed over with burning desire, and tasted your arousal. A pleased sound left him. He tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear as he pulls you in for a fiery kiss, your tongues stroking against one another.

You push down his undershorts, his cock springing free, hard and the tip leaking with arousal. You swallowed. You wanted Dorian to fuck your throat until tears streamed down your face, but that would happen next time when you two had more time, it could wait. Instead, you grabbed his cock and stroked him, and Dorian tipped his head back.

Your thumb collected the moisture at his tip, rubbing it along his slit and he groaned. You could tell that he was restraining himself from bucking his hips. After giving a soft squeeze, you very slowly start stroking him. His brows slightly furrow and his hands tighten their hold on your backside. You give a harsh tug, and then another before picking up your pace a little more.

The restraint that Dorian was holding onto broke free as he removed your hand from his length and tightened a fist over it, giving a few leisure strokes of his own, and then angles himself up with the entrance of your cunt. And when you finally lowered yourself onto his cock, you couldn’t stop the shudder that ran throughout your entire body. The feeling of him being inside you felt so warm and full.

You both paused for a moment to just breathe each other in, and then you began a slow pace, placing a hand around his throat and the other on his chest to balance yourself. The stretch of his cock is a delicious torture; you could never grow tired of this. A shaky breath escapes your lips as you ride him. His hands come to rest on your hips to help steady you.

You could feel a thin layer of perspiration cling uncomfortably to your back, but you ignored it as you lightly squeezed Dorian’s throat and closed your eyes, feeling nothing but pure bliss.

Very slowly you start to move a little faster, his heavy breathing encouraging you. Each time your hips moved upward you squeeze around his cock, making his eyebrows lightly crease from pleasure and his hands tighten their hold on you. You bring your mouth to his, and heavy, forceful kisses leave your lungs burning for air. Your hands and his own are all over each other, frantic, as if you two can’t get enough of one another.

“How did I get so lucky?” he asked. “How did I get so lucky as to have you?”

Before you could open your mouth to respond, Dorian’s hand came down to harshly smack your ass and you gasp in surprise. He does it again, but harder this time and it causes you to clench around his cock, and in response he lets out a quiet groan. He lets his nails lightly scratch the side of your ass before slapping you again. You wouldn’t be surprised to find handprints later on.

He stopped your movements by firmly grabbing your hips, and before you could question what he was doing, he slammed you down onto his length—hard. You both let out choked moans and your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head. He repeated the same motion thrice more before snapping his hips upward. The sound of skin-on-skin echoing throughout the room.

“You can take it,” Dorian panted.

His hands are still holding your hips in place to keep you in his control. Your back arches in pleasure, a small whimper leaving your lips, and a deep pressure starts building in your belly, tingles rippling through your entire body. You plead for your husband to go faster, desperately wanting to find release. Your mouth hangs open as your forehead falls against his, and a bead of sweat trails down your temple from your hairline. You ignore the uncomfortable feeling of sweat clinging to your body.

Your hands cup your breasts, kneading the flesh before rolling your nipples in between your thumbs and forefingers to add more stimulation. You groan at the sensation. Dorian watches keenly, his throat bobbing.

Your cunt is throbbing painfully and your walls are pulsing as your body tightens around him. He releases his hold on you so you can move against him, and you bring your hands to rest on his shoulders to ride him faster.

“Take what you want,” he encourages. “Ride my cock like a good girl.”

You whine at the praise, clenching around his cock. He moans at the feeling of your tight, wet walls around him. The sound sent a rush of pleasure to your core. He kisses you harshly before speaking again. “You’re doing so good for me. Always so good for me.”

The knot in your stomach twists. “I’m going to come,” you gasp out. Your movements become chaotic and uncontrolled. You start rhythmically pulsing around his cock and he snaps his hips in a frenzy to help bring your climax closer.

“That’s it,” he rasped. “Come for me.”

With a loud moan, your orgasm rolls through you in an intense convulsion, your vision blurring. Your toes curl so hard in your slippers they begin to cramp as pure ecstasy floods your body. Your limbs tremble and spasm as you hold onto Dorian tightly, burning your face into the crook of his neck.

He curses, nipping the lobe of your ear as his warm hands grip your thighs. His hips buck frantically, chasing his own release, and when you clench around him again he groans loudly, spilling into you. His breathing is ragged against your neck as his thrusts slow down before coming to a stop.

The two of you trembled in each other’s arms as you came down from the high. You sigh, closing your eyes, letting yourself rest your head on his chest and listen to the erratic beating of his heart. Dorian lazily ran his hand up and down your back. His touch is soothing and gentle, like always.

The air in the room was stifling, too hot, despite it being chilly when you had first arrived. You swallow, trying to catch your breath and calm your racing heart. You could feel your dress stick uncomfortably to your skin from sweating, and stray pieces of your hair were stuck to your forehead. You were too dazed from your orgasm to care about your appearance.

“Do you think Chaol knows?” you ask softly. Both of you had been in here for more than ten minutes and neither of you had exactly been quiet, and Chaol wasn’t dumb; he saw the way you and Dorian were looking at each other before leaving the room.

“Given how loud you and I were, then yes, I would assume so,” Dorian says. “But if he isn’t aware, then I have no problem fucking you again.”

You laugh loudly at that and he joins you, the sound making your heart skip a beat. You had no problem with being fucked on his throne again, if anything it made you want to do it again.

“I would like that,” you respond, stifling a yawn.

“I thought as much.” You couldn’t see his face, but you knew that Dorian was smiling, and you felt a smile bloom on your lips too, feeling happy and content with being in the arms of your husband.

104 notes · View notes

rowaelinsdaughter · 5 months

Text

Sleep little one

a/n;; Mostly Aelin x reader, but is a Rowaelin x reader fic.

Warnings;; None, just fluff.

She sits by the window watching the raindrops hit the glass.

A melody that calms her mind and soothes the ache in her heart.

She watches as people run to their houses to hide from the fury of the storm.

A thunder tears the world into two. But she never lifts the head from her lap, her hands hugging her knees as if she could remember those arms that had hugged her that morning.

The book she had been reading was forgotten on the floor, because the view from the window was more captivating than the words on the paper.

She heard someone opening the door and walked softly to her. A soft kiss was placed on her hair and two hands started massaging her shoulders.

She let a pleasure groan leave her mouth, those hands making her tense muscles relax.

“You should come to bed. You know, Rowan misses you and I miss you”

She looked at her mate and a soft smile appeared on her face. Aelin’s hair was tidied up into a messy bun and she was wearing one of Rowan’s shirts, in fact, she was wearing one too. The scent of her mate embracing her like a second skin. She had gotten used to stealing their clothes, mostly shirts and some pants.

She finally stood up from her seat at the window roll and Aelin hugged her by the waist. Her arms found a comfortable place on her shoulders and her hands played with the hair that was loose from the bun.

“I want something first” Aelin brought her face closer to her, both their noses touching.

“And… what is what you want, sweetheart?”

“You know exactly what I want”

Aelin rolled her eyes, not wanting to have a silly little fight with her mate, so she kissed her.

Softly. Lovingly. Just how she knew she liked when she was feeling tired and the only thing her mate wants are cuddles and kisses.

She broke the kiss and giggled when Aelin lifted her as if she weighed nothing, and just like that, they made their way to their bedroom.

Noticing them, Rowan opened the door with a cold breeze. Still carrying her, Aelin placed her in the middle of the bed, between her and Rowan. He turned so he was watching her. Eyes heavy with sleep but still, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Aelin got into the bed and placed an arm around her waist. She left a kiss on her cheek and Rowan kissed her lips.

By the time they finished getting ready to sleep, she was already sleeping peacefully and deeply, and Aelin was the next one to fall asleep.

So Rowan watched his mates sleep peacefully, knowing that he would fight anyone and anything for them.

🏷️;; @loneliestluvr @danikamariewrites @thehighladywrites @vanserrasswife @amara-moonlight @throneofsapphics @cadiawrites @shadowdaddies @claireswritingcorner

148 notes · View notes

leiawritesstories · 6 days

Text

The First Concert

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 16: Opening of the Royal Theater (canon) @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: none!

posted late bc college lol. enjoy!!

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

The morning of the opening of the Royal Theater of Terrasen dawned bright and sunny, clear skies and a crisp chill in the autumn air. The queen had been restless, and as the sun crested the mountains in the east, she stood on her balcony, silk robe wrapped loosely around her frame, and watched the dawn paint the sky in hues of rose.

You’re awake early. Her mate’s sleepy rumble drifted across her mind.

Couldn’t stay asleep.

Footsteps padded across the tiled floor, and it was only a moment before warm, thickly muscled arms banded around Aelin’s waist. It will be a good day.

She leaned back into his embrace. How can you be so sure?

Because our people love you, and they love what you have done for them. Rowan kissed the top of her head. Besides, if you get bored of shaking hands, I know you had a private box built.

Naughty buzzard. With a half-smirk, she turned to face him, drinking in the sight of his calmness, so rare in the years they had spent together. “I just want it to go well,” she said, quietly.

Unconsciously, his fingers traced the wings inked across her back. “It will,” he promised.

“Good.” She pressed her lips to his, lingering in the kiss for a long, sweet moment. “When did you get all the optimism?”

“When the world ran out of crazy-ass demons trying to kill us all.” Rowan’s tone was completely deadpan.

Aelin laughed, bright and clear as the Orynth sky. I love you, Ro.

I love you too, Fireheart.

Aelin had insisted on coordinating finery for the evening, reveling in Rowan’s suppressed groan when she brought out the linen shirt and emerald silk jacket with silver embroidery that she’d had made for him. He grumbled, but he put on the fine clothes, and she stunned him speechless with her emerald silk dress, its cuffs and hem detailed with the same silver thread, the back a plunging V that dipped nearly to her hips, revealing her tattoos in all their glory. The kingsflame crown sat atop her head, its weight light but solid, grounding the queen in the solemnity of her position.

“Beautiful,” Rowan murmured, touching his lips to the back of her neck.

She sucked in a gasp, sparks climbing her spine at the subtle teasing. “Later, my love.”

He smirked and linked his hand with hers, thumb tracing the obnoxiously large emerald on her wedding band. “As my queen commands.” Together, they ascended the cobblestone steps that led to the entrance of the Royal Theater, exchanging smiles and greetings with the crowd of Orynth’s residents that had gathered for the opening concert.

At the top of the steps, a forest-green carpet had been rolled out, a matching ribbon looped across the handles of the soaring mahogany double doors of the entrance. Aelin’s court waited there, beaming proudly at the queen who had brought the theater back to its home, and she felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes at the sheer joy on her family’s faces.

Even Lorcan was…not scowling, though she supposed that had more to do with Elide than the theater.

Aelin and Rowan stopped beside their court, and with a twist of her hand, flames curled around the prongs of her crown, adorning the symbol of Terrasen, and a twin circlet of fire wove around her mate’s brow. Aelin of the Wildfire, the crowd murmured, a soft rumble of support for their queen. She smiled. “My beloved people!” She kept hold of Rowan’s hand, drawing her strength from him lest she be overcome with emotion. “Welcome back to the Royal Theater of Terrasen!” She pinched her first two fingers together, and a fine ribbon of flame sliced neatly through the ribbon on the doors. Rowan spun out a cool northern wind, and it wrapped around the door handles and tugged them open to the people.

And they walked into the theater, footsteps falling on plush carpet and polished hardwood, eyes wide at the marble sculptures and gilded frescoes worked into and across the walls and vaulted ceilings. Tales of their beautiful nation—from Brannon to Gavin and Elena all the way down to Rhoe and Evalin, to Orlon, to Aelin. She had protested at first when the artists showed her the sketches, saying she did not need to be pictured all over the walls, but Rowan was…very convincing.

Overhead, a bell sounded, calling the people into the theater itself, and they slowly filed in, filling the emerald velvet seats that lined the floor and the galleries and the balconies curving around the massive stage. The thick stage curtains were drawn back for the arched tiers of chairs that filled the stage floor, and as the members of the symphony walked onstage, applause rippled up in waves from the crowd. From the royal box, which Rowan had specifically situated in the third tier of balcony boxes on stage left, Aelin was beaming as she applauded.

The conductor appeared to joyous applause, and he bowed to the audience and to the queen before he stepped onto his podium, tuned the orchestra, and, with a flourish of his baton, launched into the opening chords of the Stygian Suite. Aelin’s hand flew to her mouth, and the tears that had been hovering behind her composure all evening broke free, dripping soundlessly down her face.

Rowan’s hand splayed on her thigh, warm and firm and reassuring. Are you alright?

It’s…it’s been twenty years since this music was played. In her glassy eyes, he saw a reflection of the child she had been when she snuck into the opera house in Rifthold to hear the symphony, and a reflection of the young woman who had brought the music to life on the keys of a forgotten pianoforte on a spring afternoon. Did you know?

Perhaps. She flicked him a glance, and he chuckled softly. Yes. I asked the conductor if he could prepare this piece for the opening. For you.

The music swelled to a crescendo, the notes bursting into a waterfall of descending arpeggios that crested and swept through the theater like water over the audience. As the final triumphant chords echoed around the vaulted ceiling, Aelin brought her hands together and rose to her feet, leading the standing ovation with tears still tracked down her cheeks.

She waited for a long while before she left the box, heading down the stairs to greet the orchestra along with the rest of the audience. Most of them had already gone home, and Aelin spoke gratefully to the conductor, wiping the tears from her face. He shook her hands eagerly and introduced her to the symphony members, who were a mix of awestruck and overwhelmed at the appearance and support of the queen.

“And we have a few particularly special members,” the conductor continued. “You see, Your Majesty, these five were part of the last ensemble to perform this piece—the orchestra that vanished. Five of them made it through the war and chose to come to Terrasen.”

Aelin’s throat thickened. “I cannot possibly express how much that means,” she choked out. “Thank you. Thank you, so very much.”

One of the symphony members, a woman with dark hair shot through with silver, set down her violin and took the queen’s hands. “And we can’t thank you enough, my queen, for welcoming us home to Terrasen. For giving us a new home.”

Aelin could only nod wordlessly, and she was silent all the way back to the palace, overcome with emotion from the performance and the people who had created it. Tucked into bed behind her, sensing the swirling of her mind, Rowan linked his fingers with hers.

For you, Fireheart. All of it is for you.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

#my writing #rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth2024 #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass au #canonverse setting #rowaelin canon au #happy canon week everyone

59 notes · View notes

morganwrites12672 · 5 months

Note

Can I request a Rowan whitethorn x f-reader

Lots of fluff and comfort from rowan reader is overwhelmed and overworked but is such a people pleaser and has a hard time saying no to people and rowan steps in and also helps reader with everything and helps her realx

Rowan Whitethorn x Reader

Summary: (request)

。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Y/n groans as she opens the door to her apartment. Her bag hits the floor with a dull thud as she haphazardly tosses it on the floor. She would properly deal with it in the morning. It could wait, she was exhausted from a busy day.

It had started simple enough. She was only supposed to be doing simple tasks in the Wendlyn village. She had already been exhausted, having recently returned from a trip to do scouting in another country for Maeve.

It hadn't ended that way though. She had wound up unable to tell anyone no. She had helped everyone that had asked. How was she supposed to turn down Fenrys when he asked for help with some stitch work? How was she supposed to say no when she was called down to Mistward to help for the day? She couldn't. That seemed to be the issue.

Y/n snapped to attention as she noticed something unusual. Rowan was sitting on her couch. He wasn't supposed to have returned from his travels for another two weeks.

Her lips quirked up in a smile, she quickly walked over to the couch. She curled up on the couch next to him. Allowing her eyes to flutter closed as she rested her head against his shoulder.

"I thought you were taking it easy after your trip," Rowan says quietly. The sound of his voice makes Y/n open her eyes. She looks up at him before speaking.

"I was... In Mistward." She groaned. Rowan would pry the truth out of her no matter what she tried to tell him.

Rowan shifted so that Y/n was practically laying half in his lap. She gave him a tired smile and he sighed. His eyebrows here drawn together, in concern. He was always worried about her.

"Why were you in Mistward?" He asked, his voice more irritated than before. His eyes practically pierced through her skin. It felt like he could see through her.

"It was busy. There were quite a few new half faes that entered recently. They all need training, I was just helping out a little bit!" She said, trying to defend her actions.

Rowan shook his head, looking away from her. She could feel the irritation radiating off of his body. The air in the room suddenly felt thick with tension. Rowan had told her many times recently, she needed to stop taking on too many things at once. Especially whenever she was already exhausted.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself," He said finally. He looked back at her, his green eyes meeting hers. "Look at you! You're exhausted. And let me guess, you are already planning on doing more tomorrow."

Y/n sat up, frowning. He was right.

His gaze softened, "I'll say no for you. We can spend tomorrow in, together." He said softly, pressing a kis to her forehead.

She nodded, leaning back onto him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, resting his head on top of hers. She let her eyes fall closed, she felt peace. Being here, with her lover, was the only time she ever felt true peace. Rowan was the exact same way.

"I love you. And you're doing so much more than you need too. You take care of everyone else. Let me take care of you," He said.

She smiled against his shoulder, "I love you too." His words made her feel worlds better. She always felt like she wasn't doing enough, that she had to take care of everyone else.

It was nice for someone to take care of her instead.

#rowan whitethorn #rowan whitethorn x reader #Rowan whitethorn fanfic #tog fandom #heir of fire #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass x reader

104 notes · View notes

goddess-aelin · 21 days

Text

Lovestruck

Day 2 of Rowaelin month- spies/heist AU

A follow up to Lovesick- highly recommend reading that one before this one. Otherwise you'll probably be lost

Masterlist

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: stealing, small injury

“Aelin?” Rowan’s heart completely dropped to his stomach. Why was the woman he had seen just hours ago sitting on his fire escape, clad in black and laying next to a broken statue like she was on some sort of fucking art heist?

“Ro..I…Agh.” Aelin clutched her head, squeezing her eyes shut as if she was in pain. “Fuck.”

Rowan could only stare.

“I swear this isn’t what it looks like.” Aelin’s turquoise eyes met his own. She shifted her hand behind her to sit up more sturdily but a hiss of pain escaped her lips instead.

And at that moment, Rowan really couldn’t have cared whether she was in the middle of stealing the fucking Declaration of Independence, he couldn’t bear to see her in pain. “Fuck, Aelin. Come here.” He pushed his window up just far enough that he could reach out and pull her toward him. He picked her up with a gentleness that surprised even him given the circumstances, watching for any injuries or flinches of pain. Setting her down on the couch, he started to make his way to the kitchen but thought better of it and held his hand out to Aelin, instead. “Give me your glove.”

“What?”

He made a motion with his hand. “Give me your glove. Quickly.” Hesitantly, she did as she was asked, handing her black leather glove over to Rowan. Even though it was at least three sizes too small, Rowan shoved as much of his hand into the glove as he could and went once again to the window. Leaning out, he gently picked up the pieces of the broken statue, making sure that he got every little piece before closing the window.

As he turned back to Aelin, he could tell she was gobsmacked.

“Why are you helping me?”

Rowan just sighed but didn’t answer her question. “How about we start with me wrapping that wrist and then you can tell me what you were doing on my fire escape at two in the morning with a suspiciously familiar statue.”

While she didn’t necessarily look happy, Aelin nodded. “Deal.”

“Can you walk?” At his question, Aelin nodded, and got up to follow him to the kitchen.

She sat at one of the high-top stools at his kitchen island and he could feel her piercing gaze on his back as he rifled through the cabinets to find a wrap for her wrist. Returning to her once he found it, he grabbed her hand, inspecting for any cuts or scrapes. Finding none, he started pushing at her skin in different areas. She hissed as his fingers met the already-forming bruise.

“Luckily, I think it’s just a sprain. I’ll wrap it but if it feels any different tomorrow, you should go get an x-ray.”

Aelin snorted. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

Rowan raised his eyebrows at that. But still he said nothing, trying and failing to gather his thoughts around this strange, beautiful, and mysterious woman. Gently, he began wrapping her wrist with the bandages.

“So you just keep a wrist wrap in your kitchen?”

“I’m a doctor, remember? I have medical supplies all over my apartment.” Aelin let out a huff of breath at that. “Are you going to tell me why I found you out there, looking as if you were falling from the heavens?”

Aelin sighed, gathering her thoughts. “I swear to you, it was not what you think. I wasn’t stealing the statue from the art gallery above.” Rowan met her gaze and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe I was stealing the statue but I swear I had a good reason.”

Aelin took a deep breath to steal herself. “I come from a long line of Terrasen royalty. Of course, we don’t have a monarchy anymore so I’m just a normal citizen, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about my family’s history. My great-great grandfather had a collection of artifacts that dated all the way back to King Brannon’s line. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.” Rowan nodded in affirmation. “Well that broken statue was one of the last known pieces from that time period. My great-great grandfather passed it down to my great grandfather, he to my grandfather, and then it should’ve passed onto my father. But this guy, Arobynn Hamel, took it instead”

“The Arobynn Hamel that owns the art gallery upstairs?”

Aelin nodded. “If we come from a long line of Terrasen royalty, then he comes from a long line of people who tried to steal the throne from us. So I guess he felt like he was entitled to this particular statue and when my grandfather died. Imagine our surprise when the will was read and our family heirloom was suddenly passed down to a guy no one could stand.”

"Sounds fishy.”

“It was. There was no way that my grandfather would have given it to him. None. I grew up being a part of my grandfather’s life and I still remember his disdain for the man. Without my dad here to stop me anymore, I guess I just wanted to have a piece of our family history back.”

“So why did you feel like you needed to do this in the dead of night instead of fighting for it via legal routes?”

Aelin’s rueful smile slowly grew into a smirk. “Where would the fun be in that?”

Rowan couldn’t hold back his huff of laughter. This woman. She was going to be the death of him. Aelin’s face suddenly got serious. “Are you mad?”

Rowan furrowed his brows. “Mad? No.” He sighed. “Concerned? Yes, of course.”

Aelin swallowed loudly. “Are you going to turn me in?”

Rowan really tried to make a good show of contemplating. But his strength when it came to this woman was nonexistent. He caved much sooner than he would’ve liked and feared he gave away much of his emotion in the process. “Of course not. If I turned you in, I wouldn’t get to go on another date with you and we can’t have that, can we?”

Aelin beamed. Slowly, as if he were a skittish deer, Aelin leaned in and rested her forehead against his. “Thank you, Rowan.”

Tilting his head so that he could place a gentle kiss upon her lips, Rowan whispered “You’re welcome.”

The oven beeping broke them out of their little bubble that wholly encompassed them. It was at that moment that he could tell that Aelin finally smelled the melting chocolate and sugary goodness.

Slowly, like a cat, her eyes met his, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Are those for me?”

Rowan shrugged, nonchalant. “Maybe.”

Aelin softly swatted at him. “You’re a dork. But…” Her gaze was piercing as she pursed her lips, debating on her next statement. “But you’re my dork.”

Rowan could feel something in his chest alight at her statement. He was her dork. Given that he just found her on his fire escape after she stole a priceless heirloom, warning bells probably should have been going off in Rowan’s head. But all he could think was, “And you’re a thief. But…” He pecked her nose. “You’re my thief.”

A/N: Happy Day 2 of Rowaelin Month! I have some stuff planned though none of it written but I'm glad to have even gotten this piece out!

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fic #rowan x aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #tog #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #rowaelinmonth #rowaelinscourt

55 notes · View notes

throneofsmut · 11 months

Text

KINKTOBER 2023 MASTERLIST

Day One: Overstimulation with Rhys

Day Two: Breeding with Fenrys Moonbeam

Day Three: Choking with Rowan Whitethorn

Day Four: Bondage with Lucien Vanserra

Day Five: Thigh Riding with Azriel

Day Six: Sensation Play with Hunt Athalar

Day Seven: Degradation with Eris Vanserra

Day Eight: Face Sitting with Cassian

Day Nine: Face Fucking with Azriel

Day Ten: Spanking with Cassian

Day Eleven: Invisible Hands with Dorian Havillard

Day Twelve: Caught Masturbating with Eris Vanserra

Day Thirteen: Praise with Fenrys Moonbeam

Day Fourteen: Shower Sex with Hunt Athalar

Day Fifteen: Outdoor Sex with Lucien Vanserra

Day Sixteen: Cockwarming with Rhys

Day Seventeen: Temperature Play with Rowan Whitethorn

Day Eighteen: Squirting with Ruhn Danaan

Day Nineteen: Threesome / DP with Bat Boys (poly)

Day Twenty: Size Difference with Azriel

Day Twenty-one: Tit Fucking with Cassian

Day Twenty-two: Against a Wall with Rhys

Day Twenty-three: Hate Fuck with Eris Vanserra

Day Twenty- four: Hunter / Prey with Azriel

Day Twenty-five: Glory Hole with Cassian

Day Twenty-six: Daddy Kink with Rhys

Day Twenty-seven: Sleep Sex with Lucien Vanserra

Day Twenty-eight: Knife Play with Azriel

Day Twenty-nine: Corruption with Cassian

Day Thirty: Period sex with Rhys

Day Thirty-one: Wing Play with Azriel

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #crescent city #crescent city fanfic #crescent city smut #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass smut

604 notes · View notes

thehighladywrites · 9 months

Text

Throne of glass characters x reader, sending them lingerie pics

summary: you send them pics of your new lingerie

warnings: suggestiveness, mdni

amara’s note: this is my first throne of glass related post, i’m gonna start making more I hope

for my wife: @rowaelinsdaughter 💗

376 notes · View notes

danikamariewrites · 6 months

Note

Can I request a rowan fic smut cockwarming hard dom with praise and lots after care in the end pls

Stay Still (SMUT)

Rowaelin x reader

A/n: so ik you said Rowan x reader and it is HOWEVER I feel like I can’t write one without the other lately but Aelin only makes an appearance at the end

Warnings: hard dom Rowan (kind mean), cock warming, degradation/praise kink, overstimulation, use of safe word, fluff at the end

Walking past Rowan’s office the stern call of your name made you jump. You shyly walked up to his desk after being told to shut the door. Standing in front of Rowan you found it hard to look at those perfect green eyes.

Rowan tapped his pen against the desk, waiting for you to look at him. He let out a deep sigh before clearing his throat. “Do you know why I called you in here angel?” You glanced up at him, biting your lip you look back down at the carpet.

Gods damnit, you knew Aelin would tell on you! That is the last time you let her edge you without Rowan present. You let out a small defeated sigh through your nose. Through your lashes you swear you saw Rowan smirk a little, then snap his signature stern look back on.

“Yes sir.” You say softly. Rowan pushes his chair back from his desk. Looking up at him through your lashes Rowan waved you over to him. You quickly move to stand between his muscular legs, knowing that if you didn’t your punishment would be worse.

Your mate holds your hips in an almost bruising grip. He slowly looks up at you with a heated look. Those green eyes taken over by his list blown pupils. You could practically see his thoughts.

“I know you want to ask so I’m going to tell you, Aelin’s punishment will come later. Yours will be now.” You nod in understanding. “Good girl,” he purred. “Now, let’s get this off.” He begins to unlace your corset as you slide your arms from the sleeves of your dress.

An hour later you were holding back your whines from how sensitive your pussy was. You were squirming on Rowan at this point.

You started with your back to his chest once you were fully stripped. Rowan had pulled and teased your nipples until they were red. He rubbed at your clit being in you to the edge too many times to count.

After you had screamed, begging for release, Rowan had demanded silence. “Only good girls get to talk,” he had said.

Now, still fully seated on his cock, you were sitting chest to chest with Rowan. Trying not to move too much so your over sensitive body didn’t brush against the fabric of his clothes. You were willing to wait this out. Your reward in the end would be too good.

Rowan shifted under you, reaching for a blank piece of paper across his desk. You whimper at the shock that runs through your body. Your hips were killing you in this position. And your clit, which still felt raw from his fingers rubbing and edging you.

“Shh,” he says softly, bringing a hand to rub up and down your spine. You felt too tight in your skin all of a sudden. Like if you didn’t get away from Rowan you’d suffocate. Your eyes start to water. “Buzzard,” you choke out.

Rowan immediately stopped. Dropping his pen he gently holds you by your shoulders, pulling you away from him. His eyes were back to that beautiful pine green and full of concern. All traces of lust gone. “We’re going to get up, are you ok to do that?” You nod, tears still silently falling down your cheeks.

He slowly stands you up, bringing you over to the velvet couch. Pulling a spare robe out of the wardrobe in the corner. Once you’re covered he gathers your clothes and picks you up to bring you back to your chambers.

On the way back Rowan sent a message to Aelin down the bond, urging her to end her meeting early. Rowan brought you straight to the bathroom into a warm bath. You’ve calmed down now. Feeling returning to your body as Rowan used his hands to scoop water on your shoulders.

Rowan rubbed your shoulders, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. “How are you feeling?” He asks softly. “Better,” you hum.

“Let’s talk about it. What sent you over the edge, baby?” Rowan started wetting your hair, lathering the shampoo in his hands.

You let out a content sigh as Rowan’s hands rub your scalp. “It was too much edging and overstimulation. It was nice at first but feeling that much made me uncomfortable.” Rowan places a small kiss on your forehead. “I’m so sorry it was too much, baby.”

Rowan guides you to lean back, soaking the suds from your hair. “It’s ok, my love. I’m ok now.” You open your eyes, blinking up at him and giving him a small smile.

Once you’re all clean and relaxed Rowan changed you into comfy clothes, wrapping you up in his arms under the covers. As Rowan runs his fingers through your hair as your eyes get heavier until you’re lulled to sleep.

#throne of glass #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass fic #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction #rowan throne of glass #rowan whitethorn #rowan whitethorn x reader #rowan whitethorn x you #rowan whitethorn fic #rowan whitethorn fanfic #poly!rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin x you

226 notes · View notes

anarchiii · 15 days

Text

Twin Flames-1 —ACOTAR x TOG AU

Part One | Warnings: angst? | Witch!Reader x Eris Vanserra

Summary; Y/N had been born from a great darkness, and yet her soul burned brighter than any Firewielder. She didn’t care for someone who would try smother those flames, she wanted someone that would set them alight. . .

Note: this is an AU it’s not in the books.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Disclaimer; a fair amount of spoilers, people!!

Happy @erisweekofficial ,everyone!! ❤️

Eris’s POV

The Heir had never been one to look up to the stars and wish like some, but he’d always wanted things to turn out better, he wasn’t stupid enough to let hope fester in his heart, Beron had made sure of it, and his mother. . . She wasn’t around enough to affect anything. Locked up in her rooms for the foreseeable future.

He’d always silently hated that Lucien had gotten his happy ending—then again, he deserved it, his brother had always been the best one, so empathetic and patient, nothing like himself, though he couldn’t help it, not when Lucien came over with his lovely mate, going on about how happy he was, he couldn’t help the jealousy that arose within him. Turning him into a lonely and pathetic creature. Forced to watch everyone prosper while he wasted away, and he had no one to blame but himself.

It was true that the hateful and evil mask he put on was a mask, but, over time he had became the very thing everyone believed him to be, it was pitiful, he’d read so many stories of people that had suffered so greatly but had overcame their hardships and survived, becoming better people than they ever could’ve imagined, and yet, even as a child, Eris knew that would not be him. He would never know love and respect. No, that was not what he was here for.

Instead he helped people in his own wrong way and saw to it that they were better, going behind his High Lord’s back and helping their enemies, and after all that. He’d barely gotten a thank you. He couldn’t blame them, though, not at all, the Night Court especially, they knew him to be the male that’d stripped The Morrigan down and left her to die in his own lands, a nail imbedded in her stomach, the male that had tried stealing their High Lady’s sister away, to be a wife for no more than breeding and owning. When they didn’t realise he just wanted someone to love. That was all he’d ever wanted, all he’d ever let himself want for.

But his story was not one that ended in a happy ending, no, he was the beast the knight would slay to save the fair maiden, no more than a hurdle to overcome, a monster with a terrible fire that burned in his blood, burned his very soul. . .

Y/N’s POV

She couldn’t stop the shuddering of her breath as she took in the now empty battlefield bathed in the blood of enemies and allies alike, she would never get used to it, the fighting, the bloodshed, the hate, Y/N was born for battle and yet it terrified her, she had no idea how Aelin Galathynius did it. How she fought like an absolute warrior and smiled a minute later. Perhaps she would never know, the Queen had always unnerved her, she was a mystery never to be solved, though, that didn’t mean she didn’t respect her, no, when the young woman came off the field, she only bowed, she was not her Queen but that did not mean she wouldn’t fight for her. Hell. This entire army was brought together because of her. The world could finally breathe because of her.

A strong hand clasped her shoulder, pulling her from her thoughts and bringing her back to the world, the sun was blaring, melting all the snow and making small waterfalls form from the cliffs of the Staghorns, she turned around to find her Wingleader staring at her, Manon’s black and gold eyes shining with poorly hidden despair, she couldn’t blame her, not when her own held the same expression.

She nodded to Manon in thanks, neither of them saying a word, she couldn’t bare to look at Abraxos who lingered behind his rider, Y/N cleared her throat, saying, “I’m going to go for a walk, alone.” She didn’t wait for her response before leaving. Walking down the many stairs of the castle, winding turns and long hallways, she didn’t say anything to Aelin’s court members as she walked past them, non of them seemed to want to talk either. Good.

She was soon out of the great castle and then through the gates and out onto the field, Orynth looming behind her, its stones mockingly clean, it took her a long time to reach Oakwald, she had no Wyvern to carry her anymore, Adries was riding high with the other eleven creatures who hadn’t survived, Abraxos the only one left, if she wasn’t wound up in her own misery then she would’ve felt bad for the beast, but sorrow was seemingly staying for a while.

Stray branches and leaves crunched beneath her boots as she walked through the forest, the trees whispering secrets older than time itself, the wind howling names lost to history, it was a artefact in itself, it was famous for the creatures that dwelled in its lush canopies but no one talked about the sentience the place held, like it was watching your every breath and movement, it was terrifying and yet, oddly comforting.

She spotted no white stags but that wasn’t unusual, the only one she had ever seen had been mere hours ago when Aelin Ashryver Galathynius had entered the battle riding one in golden armour fit for a empress, a goddess.

Surprisingly, the forest was not silent, birds sung their songs and the deer still went about eating leaves, it was peaceful, and nice to know the world hadn’t stopped, everyone and everything moved on eventually, some quicker than others, maybe in a few years she would admire the beauty of Oakwald—she had loved nature so dearly when she was younger, when everything wasn’t so dark,—she wanted to look at the ducks waddling by and smile as they had a swim in a nearby pond, she wanted to look at the flowers already blooming through all the gore and wonder in amazement, she wanted.

She couldn’t help the tears that fell, she had lost so much, how was she supposed to go on without them? She felt that flame inside her flicker and sputter but persevere, something she couldn’t seem to do, her Grandmother had always despised that light, how even when she tried smothering it—it only burned brighter, the old hag was probably smiling in her grave to know what she had wished for so many years was happening, she was breaking, ever so slowly.

The sun was falling, setting the sky into hues of deep orange and yellow, clouds forming and blocking the view, she didn’t go home, though, just kept walking, trying to clear a mind that couldn’t be cleared, soon, mist was shrouding the forest in mystery, tiny droplets of rain fell. Hitting the emerald leaves and falling off them. It was quite serene, actually. Like the entire world was heading to bed. Her as the moon’s only witness.

She felt so small, so insignificant under it’s light, it was a lovely feeling, nocturnal animals ventured out of their dens into the night, the little glow of their eyes the only sign they were there, still, she didn’t go back. What was left for her there? She had no lovers, no family, friends or children, she was alone in a world full of people, alone.

She doubted anyone would miss her, maybe she could run away and start a new life, purge all her past memories. . . It was tempting, very tempting, and— what was that? She spotted something shiny hiding beneath jewel coloured leaves, as Y/N got closer, she realised it was a ring. A simple silver ring. It was oddly pretty, in a way a plain blue sky was pretty, nothing stood out but it still caught her attention, she bent over and picked it up but as she did, she slipped on some moss and went face-first into the ground.

She closed her eyes and groaned at the feeling of her nose screaming out in pain—the scar on her jaw mimicking the feeling, the ring was warm in her hand, like it bore an inner fire, her body felt so heavy that she couldn’t help but lay there, perhaps in the morning she would figure out what to do, nothing would harm her, so there was no reason but to keep to the floor, Y/N did need sleep, so why not get it?

Y/N dreamt, she had the instinct feeling of falling but didn’t stir, she felt herself land on something hard and cold and did all she could to grab on, this may be a dream but she’d be damned if she died in it. A dream.

Eris’s POV

One of his hounds barked in the distance and he had enough sense to inspect, the autumn leaves crunched beneath his feet like the crackling of flames, he’d never gotten sick of the eternal autumn, it was his home, no matter what had happened in this place, it was forever be his, in some way, at least.

The dog, Hazel, released another sound, piercing through the silence, setting all the other dogs off, he sighed, shaking his head as he got closer, there was no point telling them to be quiet when they wouldn’t listen, anyway.

Eris walked into the clearing where all his animals gathered, there was nothing, positively nothing of interest or significance, just a plain old spot, though that didn’t stop the smoke hounds as they jumped around and circled a particularly tall tree, this was abnormal for even them, something was off, he caught the faint scent of blood and metal on the wind, but found it led nowhere.

He noticed little scraps of clothing hanging from low branches, the material was similar to that of the Illyrian’s but different in a way, hopefully he wouldn’t find that Shadowsinger or haughty general dead in his forest, not that he wouldn’t be delighted in that, a bird cried out in the distance and he looked up to see it, only, it wasn’t a bird he saw.

No, it was a person, hanging from a branch high up, her bloody blond-silver hair hung limp, a strange red cape covering most of her body, perhaps she was dead, and perhaps that was a good thing.

Yet he couldn’t hide his shock when something fell from her hand, it shined faintly as it fell right into his palm, he did all he could not to hiss in anger as he found it was his ring that he had lost two weeks ago, the one his mother had given him, that little thief.

The End.

Note: so uhh. . . No idea where this is going, no pressure- 😬

-Taglist

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

@azrielslittleslut

@shadowsingercassia

45 notes · View notes

shadowdaddies · 7 months

Text

Reunited - Part III

Fenrys x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: After years of working as a spy in Adarlan, you are finally reunited with your cousin, Aelin, as you join the war to reclaim Terrasen and bring peace to Erilea. What you don't expect is to meet your mate in the middle of a war.

A/N: for those whom I told the next parts would be less angsty... that doesn't refer to this one I'm so sorry

Warnings: canon-typical violence, KOA spoilers

Your muscles were heavy from peaceful sleep, a satisfied smile gracing your lips as eyes fluttered open to see Aedion and Gavriel standing at the opposite side of the room from where you lay.

Forcing yourself to sit up, you looked around to find yourself in a tent, piles of blankets and furs draped over where you had been sleeping on the ground.

“She’ll be furious with you,” Aedion whispered, seemingly unaware that you had awoken. “But I thank you,” he ground out, the resistance clear in his tone as he looked to your father.

Gavriel’s tawny eyes flicked to you, lined with sorrow as memories came rushing back. Your entire body heated with pure rage and fear, nails clawing into the covers of your makeshift bed as you tossed the covers away.

“You,” you seethed, eyes wide and teeth bared as you stood to face Gavriel. It was Aedion who stepped between you, his eyes showing a vulnerability you had yet to see him reveal in front of your father.

“I know you are upset. But for once,” he glanced pointedly at Gavriel, “he did the right thing. No good could have come from Maeve knowing that you are Fenrys’s mate.”

Hearing his name unleashed a wave of emotion, a lump catching in your throat as the bond screamed inside of you, longing for your other half. “He’s gone,” you whispered, voice breaking as painful, hopeless thoughts eddied in a whirlpool, threatening to drown you. “I may never truly know my mate, because of you,” you growled the last word, tone piercing Gavriel enough to make him flinch.

Aedion fully stepped in front of you, his hands cupping your cheeks, covering your father from your view. “Listen to me. Maeve would have used you to torture him. She would have used you to torture Aelin. Saving him was not an option when he is so close to Maeve. Their blood oath is too strong.”

Your eyes shuttered as the hopeless realization crashed over you like an ocean wave knocking you below the surface. You stepped back, willing your thoughts to calm enough to look at Gavriel’s face, his expression full of guilt and worry. “I swear to you, we will find him. We will free him, if it is the last thing that I do.” He spoke with such conviction, you felt your heart soften, suddenly feeling guilty for how you had spoken to Gavriel.

Before you could find the words to apologize, Gavriel continued. “That is why we are headed north. Aedion leaves for Orynth shortly, but we will be joining Rowan along with Lorcan and Elide. So long as you feel that bond in your chest, we can use it to find Fenrys and Aelin.”

You nodded, shifting into the familiar mindset of a spy as you had lived for so long. “When do we leave?”

A soft, proud smile graced Aedion’s lips, your brother pulling you in for a hug as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I leave now. I had just come to say goodbye,” he murmured. It was an all too familiar sentiment in your family - the sacrifice of leaving your loved ones in the name of duty.

“Stay safe. I will see you soon,” you responded, not an encouragement, but an oath - one that you clung to, your chest tight as your brother disappeared out the tent. Gaze flicking to Gavriel, you raised your eyebrows in silent question.

“We leave as soon as Rowan returns from the neighboring town. He and Elide are there looking for information from the locals, and we will decide where to travel from there.” All you could manage was a nod, your emotions still roiling deep within underneath your calm facade.

You packed in silence, Gavriel’s stare burning into your side as you avoided interaction. You had just finished packing and dismantling your tent when Rowan and Elide returned, their eyes lit with a similar wired determination as your own.

Pine green eyes locked with yours, an unspoken understanding passing between you and Rowan - that the two of you would allow the world to burn to ash before you would allow it to take your mates.

“We’re leaving for Doranelle,” Rowan announced, brooking no room for questions before he helped load your and Elide’s bags onto horses. Giving Rowan a sharp nod, you followed suit, gathering necessities for the journey.

The dying embers of the campfire the only trace of your existence in the forest, your group headed for Doranelle, Rowan letting out a cry as he shifted into hawk form, soaring above as you journeyed below. The day passed mostly in silence, tensions thick between you and your father, and Elide and Lorcan.

At your request, Elide explained in brief detail why you were headed towards one of Maeve’s strongholds. She and Rowan had come across one of Maeve’s soldiers at an inn, but the shudder that passed through her when you asked for more told you all that you needed to know about how Rowan acquired that information, and you let the conversation drop.

The sun had long since set when fatigue weighed heavy on your bones, head aching from lack of food and rest. Gavriel sensed it, his too-knowing eyes scanning your sluggish movements, the limp that Elide was trying to hide.

“We will stop here for the night,” he spoke, low voice not allowing any arguments, not that you could form any. You practically crashed into the ground where you stood at his words, Elide settling next to you as Lorcan gathered kindling.

There remained little talk among the group. You couldn’t speak for others, but you knew that if you tried to speak, emotions would burst forth like water through a broken dam, the carefully maintained mask of strength you were wearing to be shattered into pieces. Gavriel, Lorcan, and Elide mumbled their good nights, while you and Rowan sat by the fire.

The twisting, flickering flames held your attention in a captivating dance, the only distraction you could find from the constant agony you felt throughout your body, the unbearable weight of your mate’s pain echoing in each fiber of your soul.

You dared a glance at Rowan, his sharp eyes moving from the fire towards you. You supposed the fire meant something different to him - a reminder of his other half, the closest thing he had to her in this moment. It was a different kind of pain, but one that you could understand as the others did not.

“Do you feel her, too?” you managed, voice cracking through the strained whisper. Rowan’s brow dipped, confusion flickering across his features before understanding settled.

“No,” he choked, and you worried that you had said the wrong thing. “No, I cannot feel her through the bond. I think whatever But I know she is there, she is alive. That much I can feel.” A shaky breath escaped you, eyes lining with silver as you curled into your body, gaze focused back on the flames in front of you.

“Can you? Feel him?” Rowan pressed, voice soft as the night breeze. Your eyes squeezed shut, the only hope you had to keep those tears from falling, but one escaped, cold warm against your chilled skin as it traced your cheek.

“Yes,” you breathed, a sob building in your lungs as you gasped for air. “Yes, I feel everything. I feel his pain, I feel his loneliness, I-“

Words were stolen from your lungs as your chest seized, inexplicable pain, grief, bringing you to your knees. You were vaguely aware of Rowan’s presence, a warm hand on your back as sobs wracked your body. Wave after wave of grief and shame barreled into you, body shaking with the force of emotions being thrust upon you.

“Breathe,” Rowan murmured, his hand on your back a grounding comfort as the emotions faded, a distinct numbness filling your senses. Emptiness consumed your being, the only reminder that you were still alive the flames in front of you.

Silver hair illuminated in the firelight, moving into your vision as Rowan kneeled in front of you. “Can you say... what happened?” he breathed, fear in his eyes as he dared the question.

“He’s not... he isn’t dead,” you managed, the knot in your chest loosening slightly as Rowan visibly relaxed. “Something terrible happened, Rowan. If what I felt was only a small part of what Fenrys is feeling...” Whatever hold you had on your own emotions was lost in that moment, tears falling freely as you cried.

Another hand landed on your shoulder, and you looked up through blurry eyes to see your father watching you, heartbreak written on his features. On instinct, you crashed into him, throwing your arms around Gavriel’s neck, breathing in his comforting scent.

Conversations were happening in the background - Lorcan and Elide apparently also wakened by your cries - but you held onto your father, finding a small piece of solace in having him here.

Gavriel’s hand lifted, a canteen handed to him which he brought to your hands. “Here, drink this,” he murmured, tawny eyes observing carefully as your shaky hands gripped the vessel. Forcing small sips of water down your throat, breathing came easier, and you noticed Rowan, Lorcan, and Elide all standing nearby.

“I’m not going to stay the night,” Rowan said, moving back towards where you sat. “If you want to rest, Gavriel will stay with you and Elide. But if you-“

“I’m going with you,” you interrupted. Rowan merely nodded, as thought your response was exactly what he expected. Lorcan was already moving, packing and loading supplies as Rowan’s power suffocated the fire.

You walked in line with Gavriel, leaves and sticks crunching under your boots as owls hooted against the still-darkened sky. “I can feel him, still,” you murmured, eyes downcast at your scuffed, muddied shoes. “I feel him, but it’s different than before. He’s... hollow. It’s like this numbness, and I can’t reach his end of the bond, so I don’t know if he can feel me.”

Your eyes burned with tears you were too drained to shed when Gavriel grabbed your hand, turning you to stop and look up at him. “Do not give up. I know it hurts, I know what Maeve is capable of. But please, be better than me. Fight for Fenrys. He deserves that. You deserve that. And we will find him, and Aelin.”

Pushing up on your toes, you placed a kiss to your father’s cheek, your eyes never leaving his as you spoke. “You did the right thing. I have already mourned a childhood without you, but I’ve been allowed to know you now, and I am so thankful for a father as selfless as you, who was willing to sacrifice seeing his children grow to keep us safe. You didn’t give up, and I will not either.”

You both turned, heads snapping forward towards the road ahead as Gavriel cleared his throat, eyes shining with emotion as you continued the rest of your walk in silence.

By the time you arrived in Doranelle, your feet hurt like never before, entire body sore from long travels and lack of sleep. Your group hid in the trees just outside the main road through town. Elide turned to you, a fire in her eyes that lit one in your chest.

“The males are too recognizable, so you will all stay out here and keep a low profile while I go into town. I’m going to see if anyone has information about Cairn’s location, because we know he’s with Aelin and Fenrys.”

You shook your head. “I’m coming with you. You’re not going alone into town, and it would be suspicious if you were by yourself.” You looked around, Lorcan giving you a grateful smile while Gavriel opened his mouth as if to argue. Before he could say anything, you took Elide’s hand and set off towards town.

Doranelle was bustling, people shopping and selling throughout the streets, men calling for your attention as the two of you walked at a brisk pace, eyes and ears open for any sign of danger.

Multiple groups of people shuffled in the same direction, your gaze following their movements towards a pub that appeared to be full of travelers and locals alike. “That’s where we should go,” you murmured to Elide, her dark eyes joining yours as she studied the tavern’s entrance.

Releasing your hand, Elide led the way into the building, instructing you to take a seat wherever you could find one as she took the lead. You found a small booth, thankful for the weight off your feet and even the rancid beer a barmaid slid your way.

It was pure entertainment, a respite from the hellish reality you had been living lately, as you watched Elide put on a show of the helpless maiden. Batting her long lashes, giving shy smiles, she wrung any information she could from the tavern’s patrons while you kept watch.

Everyone seemed taken by her story, the heartbroken lover of Maeve’s general, except for one female. She lounged at one of the tables, chestnut brown eyes watching Elide with a keen, quiet interest. And then Elide mentioned Cairn.

A hush fell over the room, the mood instantly sobering at the mention of the newest member of Maeve’s cadre. Expressions turned cold, even sour as people closed themselves off to Elide’s charm. They definitely knew something, and as you watched Elide excuse herself to the washroom, you caught the striking female with chestnut eyes from before stand up quickly, dark brown hair flowing around her as she turned and followed Elide down the hall.

You were quick behind her, dagger sheathed discreetly at your side. Using your blade, you wedged open the door to the washroom to find Elide wide-eyed, tension thick in the air as she and the female stared at each other.

Your blade quickly found the female’s neck, your foot kicking the door shut behind you. “Who are you, and what do you know?” you questioned, voice lethally calm.

The female didn’t struggle, her demeanor relaxed as she spoke. “My name is Essar. I mean no harm - I simply wanted to warn your friend to stay away from Cairn. But it appears she is better protected than I believed.”

Her voice remained calm as she dared to turn towards you, unbothered at how your blade dug further into her skin. “Why do you look for Cairn, truly?”

Your gaze hardened on Essar, assessing the trustworthiness of this new character. “That would depend. What is he to you?” you asked, releasing her so slightly from your hold.

A scoff escaped her lips, nearly a slight laugh as though your question was absurd. “He is nothing to me. And Maeve is less than nothing,” she ground out, venom lacing her tone. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips at her spite.

“We have business to attend to regarding Cairn,” you murmured, gaze flicking towards the door to check it was closed.

A knowing gleam shone in Essar’s eyes. “You have Gavriel’s eyes,” she whispered, clearing her throat as she studied you and Elide. “Cairn is at the camp just north of town. He was seen there this morning.”

It was an effort to not let your surprise show, but somehow you knew that you could trust Essar. Hope sprang in your chest, as though the bond was confirming Fenrys was close. “Thank you,” you murmured, to Essar, hand reaching for the doorknob as you gestured for Elide to follow.

“Give them Hell,” Essar said, chin raised proudly. You gave her a final nod of thanks before slipping out the door. Elide could barely keep up with your pace as you raced through town, back to the edge of the woods where the males waited. Now that you knew where Fenrys was, nothing could hold you back from finding him.

You were both short of breath, struggling to explain all that Essar had shared with you at the tavern. “I believe her,” you said, looking to Rowan and Gavriel for validation. But it was Lorcan whose eyes grew soft as you spoke of the female you had met, the other males looking to Lorcan for only a brief moment before Rowan cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

“We can trust her,” he said. “I’ll take to the skies. You follow my lead - we’ll walk around town to avoid running into Maeve’s soldiers for now.”

Heart pounding in your chest, you watched as Rowan launched into the air, your group quietly following the path of the hawk as it led you around the edge of town. Sounds of soldiers running drills, sparring, blacksmiths at work all filled your ears as rows and rows of tents came into view.

Breath caught in your lungs, the twist of hope and fear electric as it shot through your body. A warm hand wrapped around yours, and you looked down as Gavriel gave it a comforting squeeze. “I am with you,” he whispered.

Words evaded you, but you managed to nod to your father - a silent acknowledgment: "I am with you, too."

Scanning the grounds of the camp, you searched for a way in. There were too many tents, too many places Fenrys and Aelin could be. But your thoughts were interrupted by the bloody cry of a hawk, and before your mind could catch up to your body, you found yourself running, sword drawn, towards the center of camp where Rowan flew.

Soldiers charged you, your adrenaline pumping as you cut them down one by one. Red flooded your gaze as you saw a shell of a female, weighed in familiar iron shackles as she stumbled out of a tent on thin legs.

Blood pounded in your ears, the faint sound of Lorcan yelling at your side all that you could register as Aelin ran towards you. You couldn’t stop the flow of tears as you locked eyes with your cousin through the iron mask she wore, heart somehow shattered and whole at the sight of her, alive yet broken.

“Fenrys,” she choked. “Fenrys!” Aelin’s voice cried. She whipped around like a wild animal caught in a trap, yelling at Rowan and Lorcan, pleading for them to find your mate.

You rose to chase after him, but Rowan’s pleading look settled that rage within you - he would find your mate while you protected his. And so you watched him run through the camp with Lorcan, a beautiful storm of chaos as the warriors partnered seamlessly in battle.

The clanking of chains pulled you from your daze, Aelin scratching at her binds. “Take it off take it off take it OFF,” she screamed, voice hoarse as she chanted violently. Rowan appeared by her side, his hands working as they tried to find an opening on the mask. Rowan.

Your eyes went wild, an unexplainable ache carving itself into your chest as you stood, spinning clumsily while you searched for any sign of Fenrys. The sight of white fur on the ground, Gavriel leaning over the wolf who lay, covered in blood and barely breathing snapped something within you.

As your father gave you a helpless look, the world cleaved in two, as though half of your soul was ripped from your chest. Collapsing to the ground, your hand wove in Fenrys’s fur as onyx eyes gazed at you, unblinking.

There was no room in your heart for more tears at this point. Everything had been taken from you - so you lay there, watching the last hope you had for a future, for love, as he faded away.

You didn’t head the commotion behind you as Rowan managed to break the Wyrd marks locking Aelin’s chains, how she crawled weakly to Fenrys’s side across from you. The words, “live, Fenrys. Live,” echoed through your head, Aelin’s voice like a helpless prayer.

And then he blinked. Gold flecks shone in his eyes, chest rising slowly as your mate released a soft whine. Your heart burst with joy, love pouring from your end of the bond as you were finally able to reach Fenrys.

Your hand reached out to him just as he shifted into his human form, long blonde curls fallen across his beautiful face as he stared at you. “Is this real?” he rasped, and you nodded, a broken laugh escaping as you sat up, pulling Fenrys’s head into your lap as his hands found yours, holding onto them like a lifeline.

“He’s gone,” Fenrys whispered, his gaze distant. You felt it then - the hollow feeling, the numbness you had felt through the bond. “Connall,” he murmured, eyes finding yours as a tear rolled down his cheek, and you understood. Fenrys had lost a part of himself - Maeve had taken so much from your mate.

“I will kill her,” you vowed.

Fenrys’s hand lifted to brush your cheek. “You were my hope. The only strength I found to keep going.”

Taking his hand from your cheek, you pressed a kiss to his palm. Flames danced in your eyes. “For what she did to you, to Connall, to Aelin. She will burn.”

Author’s Note: I took a break from this series and don’t know if a part 4 will happen. Sorry to disappoint anyone, but there are no immediate plans for this series to continue.

tag list: @hellodarling1357 @sassyslytherinshai

201 notes · View notes

delulu-is-the-soluluh · 2 months

Text

Scars of Flames and Wind | Prologue

Next Chapter

A Dark!Rowaelin x afab!Reader

Author's Note: Hello! It is with great apprehension that I post this fanfic, which has been in my mind for almost a year, but is now finally seeing the light of day. It’s also the first time in 12 years that I’m writing again, so I’m quite rusty. English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance! It’s a long chapter! (Creating context for a fanfic set in the canon era of the eight books made me rethink my life choices, but I’m not backing down!) I hope you enjoy it, and I would love to receive feedback <3

General Warning: Throughout the story, there will be Dark!Rowaelin, DubCon, possessiveness, extreme jealousy, low self-esteem, and many questionable thoughts and actions. There will be some creation of information for the sake of the plot but without straying from the canon, I promise.

Warnings: In this chapter, none; Flashbacks; Aelin’s parents as special guests.

Orynth, 10 months before the Fall of Terrasen

The library was silent and bathed in the afternoon sunlight, with the sounds of turning pages and scribbling on paper echoing through the room. Rhoe was intensely searching for some information that could help in training his niece’s power. Despite being distant relatives and her presence being only due to a future agreement, he cherished the intelligent and fearless girl she was. But her ability to manipulate earth, from a long-forgotten and diluted dynasty in the Ashryver genealogy, was growing rapidly, and without any other living relatives like her and many of their records lost, it was becoming harder to train her abilities.

With a long sigh, Rhoe diverted his gaze from the paper to his daughter, Aelin, who had insisted on coming to study with him, under the pretext of “spending more time with her father” and learning more about “whatever he was learning.”

With a soft smile on his face, he watched her. Aelin was sitting in an armchair ahead of him, holding a book up to her eyes, without turning a page for quite some time. With a low laugh, Rhoe realized that his daughter was alternating her gaze between the page and his niece sitting by the window, drawing in her notebook, unaware that she was being attentively admired.

Aelin had come just to be close to Y/N. His smile dimmed as worry washed over him.

Aelin couldn’t help but notice how her hair shone in the sunlight, how her irises became lighter, and how her skin seemed to glow as she traced lines upon lines in her notebook. It was... mesmerizing. The fantasy book was already forgotten; she couldn’t concentrate on a single word. She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t. She just felt her cheeks warm slightly, using her book as a shield against her blush.

Was this what it meant to like someone? Her heart beat faster when Y/N was around, and her mind often wandered to the moments they spent together. So it was different from friendship... right? She had heard stories about her uncle Orlon and how he liked Darrow more than a friend, and that had never seemed strange to her. But now, feeling something like this for Y/N left her a bit..confused

A memory of the conversation she had the day before with her aunt, Marion, came to her mind:

Aelin was sitting in the garden, surrounded by the flowers her aunt Marion lovingly cultivated. Spring was at its peak, and the air was fragrant with the scent of the flowers. She looked at her aunt, hesitating for a moment before asking the question that was on her mind.

“Can I ask you something?”

Marion smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind Aelin’s ear. “Of course, dear. What do you want to know?”

Aelin took a deep breath, nervous. “Uncle Orlon and Darrow... they like each other more than friends, right?”

Marion paused for a moment, surprised by the question, but her smile remained gentle. “Yes, they do..” she squinted her eyes, already knowing where this was going. “Why the question?”

Aelin took a deep breath, thinking about how to ask her that. “How do you know when you like someone like that? How do you know it’s more than friendship?”

Marion held Aelin’s hands, looking into her eyes. “Liking someone like that is a special feeling. You feel your heart beat faster when you’re near that person, and you think about them all the time. When you’re with them, you feel a happiness you can’t explain. It’s a type of affection and care that goes beyond friendship.”

Aelin bit her lip, still a bit confused, but her aunt’s words began to make sense. “And if I feel that for someone, but it’s not a boy?”

Marion smiled, caressing Aelin’s face. “Love doesn’t choose genders, Aelin. What matters is how you feel. If your heart says it’s love, then it’s love. And that’s something beautiful, regardless of who it is.”

Aelin felt relieved but still confused at the same time. “But... how can I be sure if it’s really that? How can I be certain?”

Marion thought for a moment before answering, her words filled with kindness and understanding. “Aelin, love isn’t always something we can define clearly. Sometimes, it’s confusing and complicated. But if this person makes you happy, if you feel a special connection, and if your heart beats faster just thinking about them, then maybe you already have your answer. Don’t be afraid to follow your heart.”

Aelin nodded, feeling a bit more at ease. Marion’s words echoed in her mind as she tried to understand her own feelings.

Back in the library, Aelin looked at Y/N once more. Marion’s words resonated in her mind. Maybe it was more than friendship. Maybe it was something special. She wasn’t sure yet, but she knew she wanted to find out.

Plains of Theralis - Terrasen, 6 months before the Fall

The field stretched out before them, a vast green expanse that seemed to lose itself on the horizon. The sun was high in the sky with vibrant heat. A light breeze carried the fresh scent of the earth and wildflowers, mixed with the distant sound of birds singing.

Aelin, with a daring smile on her lips, gracefully and confidently pulled the reins of her horse. She cast a challenging glance at Y/N, her blue eyes shining with the promise of fun and competition.

“Let’s see if you can catch me!” Aelin shouted, her voice filled with contagious joy and a hint of provocation.

Y/N, feeling the dense wind on her face, smiled back, her heart racing both from the race and the attention of Aelin. She spurred her horse forward, leaning in with determination. “Get ready to lose!” she responded, with a glint of challenge in her eyes.

As they raced, Y/N couldn’t help but get lost in the sight of Aelin. The way she moved, with wild freedom and natural grace, was mesmerizing. Her laughter, free and vibrant, seemed to echo across the vastness of the field, blending with the sound of the horses’ hooves hitting the ground.

Aedion, riding a bit behind and enjoying the competition, watched the interaction with an amused smile. He approached and shouted, “Show offs! I don’t want to be the third wheel here, so don’t worry about beating me!” he teased, his tone filled with humor and lightness. Y/N laughed as Aelin cast a challenging look at Aedion as she sped up even more, the wind blowing strongly in her face.

Last Beltane before the Fall

The festival was full of life and renewal. Bonfires blazed in the shadows of the night, casting a golden and dancing glow over the smiling faces of the people. The heat from the flames mixed with the fragrance of flowers and herbs adorning the place, colorful clothes and floral adornments decorated the participants, who moved to the rhythm of festive music.

Aelin and Y/N were at the center of the celebration, jumping over the flames with contagious laughter, their shadows projected on the dancing flames. The joy on their faces was palpable, and the heat of the fire seemed to reflect the flame of their own feelings. The sound of folk music and laughter mixed with the crackling of the bonfires, creating a symphony of celebration.

After a jump over the last flame, Aelin stopped dancing, and with a soft smile and a special glint in her eyes, she pulled something from her dress pocket and approached Y/N.

“I have something for you,” Aelin said, handing Y/N a small velvet box.

With her heart racing and the heat of the festival still vibrating in her bones, Y/N looked at the box with curiosity. “What is it?” she asked, her tone curious and eager.

Aelin smiled, her gaze fixed on Y/N as she watched her reaction. Y/N opened the box and found two delicate necklaces, each with a unique pendant. One necklace was adorned with a radiant sun pendant, and the other with a crescent moon. The light from the bonfires reflected off the jewelry, casting small sparks that seemed to dance in sync with the music.

“Aunt Marion made them for us. So that we always remember each other, no matter what happens,” Aelin said, her voice joyful and slightly hoarse from the celebration. She put on the necklace with the moon pendant for herself and held the necklace with the sun pendant, offering it to Y/N.

Orlon and Darrow watched from afar, their gazes attentive to the scene unfolding before them between the little princess and her future lady-in-waiting.

“Doesn’t this worry you at all? It’s good to see the girls together, but don’t you think this little crush could cause a new...linear impasse?” Darrow said with slight concern, his eyes still on the girls as they put on the necklaces for each other.

Orlon maintained a serene look at the two, still unaware of the agreement proposed not long ago: Aedion would marry Aelin in the future, with Y/N being the queen’s lady-in-waiting, a general, a bearer of wildfire, and a geomancer of the rare and forgotten Montserrat lineage.

But the “innocent crush” had everything to become something more in a few years, and that was visible to everyone. Some servants even dared to say it could even be a mating bond that caused them to get along so well and never be apart.

“Well, if that’s the case, maybe Rhoe should start ordering another little princess as soon as possible to keep the agreement in order!” Orlon jokes, his eyes shining with humor.

Darrow couldn’t help but laugh lightly, even with the weight of responsibility still hanging in the air. “Let’s see how this unfolds, then. We still have time.”

Orynth, Hours Before the Fall of Terrasen

The day in Orynth was shrouded in a tense and anticipatory atmosphere. The unexpected visit of the King of Adarlan and his son, Dorian, to the kingdom of Terrasen had alerted everyone, even after deciding to give them a warm reception.

During the dinner, where royalty and the closest members of the court were gathered at the table, Aelin struggled to maintain her composure after rejecting Prince Dorian’s friendship, which was quickly rebuffed with his comment that he ate like a little lady.

Moments later, without any warning, Aelin felt a pressure in her head as a sudden burst of heat emanated from her body. Flames erupted around her, dangerously close to the curtains and ornaments. The guests recoiled, some shouting in surprise, while the Terrasen guards rushed to control the situation. Aelin's eyes were wide with terror and frustration as Y/N, amidst the chaos, swore she saw the King of Adarlan watching with a cold smile on his lips.

The dinner ended abruptly, and a quick decision was made: Aelin would be taken to a country house, far from Orynth, where she could learn to control her powers more safely. Her parents and a few guards would accompany her.

Hours later, as night started to fall, determined to comfort Aelin, Y/N sneaked into her room. The castle was silent, as she entered the room unseen, finding Aelin sitting on the bed, her eyes still vacant from the events of the dinner.

“How are you feeling?” Y/N whispered with concern.

Aelin looked up in mild shock, her shoulders relaxing slightly at the sight of Y/N in her room. She tried to smile, but the effort was evident.

“I’m fine.” she answered quickly. “ It’s just.. it’s getting harder to.. you know, controlling these.. ” She replied, while raising her hands, voice quiet but trying to stay light. It was bad enough she had been banned from the library, her favorite place, because of them; having an episode like this, in front of everyone...

Y/N gazed at her for a moment and moved closer, sitting beside her. They sat in silence for a moment, just feeling each other’s presence. Aelin sighed deeply, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

"You've got this, Aelin. You always do.. Plus, you're not alone in this. At least they know what to expect, right?" Y/N said reassuringly. "Unlike my power, which is completely unknown, and I'm the only one who has it."

Aelin laughed lightly and before she could give her a smart remark, Evalin appeared in the doorway, her expression surprised but soon replaced by gentle concern.

“You shouldn’t be here, Y/N... Come on, let’s go back to your room,” she said, her voice firm yet kind.

Y/N resisted, holding Aelin’s hand. “I just wanted to know why she can’t stay here! Or maybe I could go too! Lady Marion is going, can I go too?” she complained, trying to give Evalin her best puppy eyes.

“Because...” Evalin hesitated. What excuse could she use? She didn’t like lying to the girls, but if she said it wasn’t safe, it would not only spark more interest but also add more reasons for her pleading.

“Because someone has to stay here to keep Prince Dorian company, and Aedion... well, he’s not the best at it, is he?” Evalin sighed, giving the most generic answer she could.

However, it was not entirely false. Aedion was still on bad terms with the princeling for spilling tea on Aelin’s dress.

Y/N huffed before getting up from the bed and hugged her, not noticing that one of the sun’s rays from her pendant had caught on Aelin’s still-scorched blue dress, tearing and falling onto the bedspread.

Aelin noticed and tried to warn her, but she had already left the room with her mother. With her eyes fixed on the chain, Aelin quickly wrapped it around her own, the pendants connecting, the sun encircled by the crescent moon. “I’ll return it later.” she whispered to herself.

But later, Terrasen was attacked.

The castle of Orynth was under siege. Flames licked at the stone walls, casting eerie shadows as screams echoed through the corridors. Adarlan, whom they had once welcomed as allies, were now ruthlessly burning and killing everyone in sight. The betrayal was a sharp dagger into their backs, a cruel twist after extending hospitality to those now wreaking havoc.

Aedion shielded Y/N with his body, keeping her safely behind him as they navigated the chaos as the last two survivors of Orlon’s personal guard guided them to the secret passengers . "Stay close," one of them muttered, gripping his sword tightly.

Y/N's eyes were wide with terror, tears streaming down her face. Her mind raced to Aelin, desperate to know her fate. "What about Aelin? What about Uncle Rhoe and Aunt Evalin?" she whispered to Aedion, her voice trembling.

Aedion's jaw tightened, his own worry evident despite his attempt to remain calm. "They'll be fine," he whispered back, "Aelin is strong, and so are Rhoe and Evalin. They have guards with them, they’ll be safe." his furrowed brow betrayed his own fear as his words sounded to not only reassure Y/N, but also himself.

They hurried down a narrow corridor, the guards pushing aside a tapestry to reveal a hidden door. "This way," one of them urged, ushering Y/N and Aedion into the secret passage. The door led them to the edge of Oakwald Forest, their only hope of escape. But as they emerged into the dim light of the forest, they were ambushed.

Adarlanian soldiers surrounded them, swiftly killing the guards who had been guiding them. "Run!" one of the dying soldiers shouted, his final act a desperate bid to save them.

Y/N didn't hesitate. She sprinted into the forest, her heart pounding, while Aedion drew a sword off the grass and followed, cutting and attacking any enemy that tried to block their path. Seconds felt more like hours, their skin and feet now bruised and scratched by the bushes as they entered the dark forest, the trees now looming like silent sentinels, and the sounds of battle faded as they ran deeper into the woods.

Y/N's breath came in ragged gasps, her mind a whirlwind of fear and grief. The betrayal, the loss, the uncertainty of their survival weighed heavily on her. Aedion was right behind her, his presence a small comfort in the midst of the nightmare.

As they reached a small clearing, they paused, both panting for breath. Aedion's face was grim, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of further danger. “You’re okay?” he asked breathlessly, while scanning her with his eyes looking for any more serious wounds.

Y/N was panting, breathless from running. Her body was caked with dirt and marked with cuts, her face streaked with tears that left trails on her cheeks. Her eyes were wide, lost and frightened, as she reached for her neck and realized her necklace was gone. She whispered Aelin's name and Orynth's, her voice trembling, lost for words.

Aedion felt the earth beneath his feet start to tremble, a subtle vibration that grew stronger as Y/N spiraled deeper into her panic, awakening her powers. He cut the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her, nestling her face against his chest beneath his chin, while his other hand gripped his sword tightly. He held her close, grounding her in the present and calming the tremors, ensuring they wouldn't attract any unwanted attention.

"We'll find Aelin," he said, hugging her from the side, one hand on her head, the other still with a firm grip on the sword. his voice firm despite the sadness in his eyes.

"We'll find them all, I promise."

57 notes · View notes