#au: canonverse

[certainty2witch]

Iva loves bothering them, as it should be.

[msuolo]

Happy New Year, reylos 🥰🎄🎉

[enden-k]

1/? actor AU (ivlk)

[theraedar]

This is your home, too

[leenfiend]

hiii I'm joining the many klance fanartists who have been making art for this fic by @heavilycaffeinatedsblog check it out if you haven't already!!

[kiwibirdlafayette]

kaden (dippledad) on twt got me thinkin about affection headcanons so ofc i had to do a little doodle :3c ft. the designs from SLMAU since theyre just too much fun to draw

[absenthearted]

FIC: BEFORE THE ENDING, A DANCE the quarry | travis/laura | work-in-progress | pacific rim AU

The day after the kaiju attack on Anchorage, Laura Kearney has her first drift compatibility trial with her partner. It doesn’t go well.

Seven years after the apocalypse begins, Laura Kearney enlists in the Jaeger Academy on Kodiak Island. There, she meets Travis Hackett, her instructor and a retired Jaeger ranger. To achieve her dream of piloting a Jaeger, Laura must find a drift-compatible partner. It's just not as easy as she thinks.

[arrow-gt-ace]

tiny entrusting their baby to a giant while they attend to other matters for a bit sure there's a lot of scary things out there. beasts, the elements, other people, and any trouble a child could possibly find themself in but the giant is a trusted friend. big and strong too. everyone can rest easy with the baby in the care of a giant guardian.

[leiawritesstories]

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

[raiiny-bay]

redhead :-)

[certainty2witch]

Just a Dragodile sweet moment, ruined in the end by Croc being embarrassed.

[msuolo]

‘Ben, please, wake up… we have to go’

[loveackermannn]

☰ ANYTHING FOR YOU –.ೃ࿐ 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧.

levi swears that he's a clean freak – that he can't bare to even come into contact with anything remotely filthy.. but it came to your surprise that on your sick days, he won't waste a second to be by your side the whole time.

levi swears that he's a clean freak, until he's literally laying right beside you and keeping a warm cloth on your forehead. he isn't afraid to be within the proximity of you so much so that he himself could get sick – but he didn't care.

"you'll get sick though, levi.."

"to hell with that. as long as you get better, i'll take care of myself later."

levi swears that he's a clean freak, but then the moment you feel yourself needing to vomit, he's gathering your hair in a ponytail with a small bucket placed in front of you. he didn't give one thought about what splattered on the bed sheets or the mess he'd have to clean up later.. all that mattered was you in that moment.

"i'm sorry. i got some on your shirt, i shouldve-"

"don't you dare apologize. forget about my shitty shirt, you okay? here, i'll get you some water."

levi swears that he's a clean freak, until he's wiping the snot from your nose with his handkerchief, letting you blow your nose until it felt empty. his brows furrowed with concern to which you thought was disgust at first – it's hard to read him sometimes.

"you don't have to do this. i know it can be gross for you."

"i want to do this, love. just blow, it's okay i've got you."

levi swears that he's a clean freak but when it comes to you, he'd push it all aside, forgetting that he used to wipe his blades on the battlefield after a bloody attack or how repulsed he felt living in the underground. he had forgotten what it felt like because now, he'd do absolutely anything for you, even if it meant getting his hands dirty every now and then.

☆ — 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @luvjiro , @youre-ackermine , @lovolee3 , @notgoodforlife , @averysmolbear , @bejewelledd , @leviismybby , @evas-leslas , @roseofdarknessblog @cometlevi , @21aurora (! ! 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝💌)

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

Kept thinking about the decline in popularity of Christmas caroling from the 1800s to now and came to the following conclusions:

Would not go caroling in any time period:

Hickey

Gibson

Golding

Wall

Des Voeux

Fairholme

Crispe

Collins (would like to, but is too shy)

Would go caroling in the 1800s but not in a modern AU:

Goodsir

Hartnell Bros

Diggle

Morfin

Weekes

Hoar

Tozer

Dundy

Crozier (coerced into it by Fitzjames)

Jopson (moral support for Crozier)

Would go caroling no matter the time period:

The Franklins

Gore

Magnus

Lane

Fitzjames

MacDonald

Irving

Hodgson

Little (coerced into it by the former two)

(List not meant to be exhaustive. I left out anyone I was undecided on. Additions and edits welcome!)

[stantongus]

me and my gang…

[immren]

their halloween costumes . i couldnt finish it in time for halloween 😔cursed carpal tunnel and veilguard release

the idea is that maidris + nox are dressed up as evil scientist immren's experiments lol. nox's costume is like if he was dressed as a tiefling and a slayer at the same time but immren ran out of grey paint for him (and the extra arms are made out of paper mâché )

immren also made the gore on maidris out of yarn which im super happy with how it came out. yay textures

(maidris belongs to @spellmage and nox belongs to @cats-obsessions )