#sparkleywonderful

[jenibearx3]

@sparkleywonderful thank you for the inspiration 

#acotar #acotar fan art #digital drawing #procreate art #feyre archeron #acotar the morrigan #acotar azriel #rhysand parents #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf

[sparkleywonderful]

The Prince of Ice: Ch.24.2

Part 24.2 of The Prince of Ice series, a retelling of Heir of Fire from Rowan’s point of view.

The Prince of Ice Parts [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ] [ 9 ] [ 10 ] [ 11 ] [ 12 ] [ 13 ] [ 14 ] [ 14.5 ] [ 15 ] [ 16 ]  [ 17 ] [ 18 ] [ 19 ] [ 20 ] [ 21 ] [ 22 ] [ 23 ]  [ 24.1 ] [ 24.2 ] [ 24.3 ] [ 24.4 ] [ 24.5 ] [ 24.6 ] [ 24.7 ] [  AO3 ]

A/N: I have been dying to write this chapter, just dying. It was so much fun to write and I always felt that this exclusive belonged in the book. Although we all filled in the gaps, it is the first time you truly see the friendship that is growing between Rowan and Aelin. For tumblr, I will be braking this apart into seven sections for your viewing pleasure.

Gratitude goes to @bookofademigod and @themaasofwar for posting the target exclusive. Without this I would have never been able to write this very important POV.

- - - - - - -

Months before Aelin reclaimed her identity as the long-lost Queen of Terrasen, she still called herself Celaena Sardothien - and was trained to wield her rekindled magic by a Fae Prince in a mountain fortress of Wendlyn… Despite their rough beginning, Aelin and Rowan have finally formed a solid friendship, based on mutual respect, trust, and more than a bit of banter. But just when their bond begins to shift into something neither of them quite anticipates - something far deeper - the fortress of Mistward receives a visit from three Fae nobles. And one of them claims some very, very personal ties to Rowan himself. Read on for an exclusive deleted scene from Heir of Fire, in which Aelin gets her first glimpse of the Fae nobility of Doranelle, and a bit more of Rowan’s history is revealed to her … with fiery consequences.

- - - - - - -

The jingling bells and merry voices reached the fortress long before the party appeared through the ward-stones.

Standing in the small courtyard, the Princess glanced to Rowan. “Really? You need my help with these prancing idiots?”

He in turn glared at her. “Keep your voice down,” he muttered, giving a pointed glance to her ears.

She rolled her eyes, but didn’t say anything else as the party arrived. There were five in the party now taking in the courtyard and fortress, two of them bored-looking guards whose attention fixed solely on him, and the other three … Remelle. Her pale blond hair was the opposite of Lyria’s dark curls and lacked the glow of Aelin’s blonde.

“Rowan!” She advanced off her white mare, holding out her hands. Her hands and fingers were unmarked, lacking the signs of any labor or training.

For decades he had wondered what he was thinking, but now, now he knew it was that everything in her was the opposite of what he would ever seriously desire. She was the embodiment of the court and politics he despised. There was never a chance that they could grow into anything beyond a chance for physical release.

“Lady Remelle,” his massive hands engulfing hers as he took them. His spine was straight as a rod, and though Remelle looked at their joined hands as if expecting him to plant a kiss—the idea of kissing her hand as she expected turned his stomach—he dropped her fingers unceremoniously and turned to the other two nobles dismounting.

“Lord Benson,” he said to the tall, slender male, who just nodded at him. He had little respect for the lord in front of him, a politician through and through. The nod told him that Benson thought just as little of him. He was accustomed to that response from the Doranelle Lords, none of them could understand him turning away from his title.

“Lady Essar,” Rowan said to the small, dark-haired Fae female. He often felt bad for her, she was in love with a male that could never love her back. Not in the way that she truly deserved. She was as kind as Lorcan was ruthless. True opposites, but Essar had always seen Lorcan in a different way than others had and often he wondered what he did not see in the warrior.

He stiffened as Remelle placed a hand on his shoulder, he managed to withhold the snarl that wanted to erupt from his throat. “It’s been an age, hasn’t it? You never come to our parties, and Maeve keeps you all to herself.”

“There was a time,” Remelle pouted, “when I got to keep you to myself. Sometimes I miss those days.”

Instead of responding to Remelle he shifted his focus to the guards, “Stables are to the left.”

He looked for his princess and extended an arm in her direction and loosened a breath he did not realize he was holding as she walked towards him. He relaxed when she came close enough where he could have tucked her into his side. Together.

“This is—Elentiya. I’m training her at the queen’s request. Elentiya, this is Lady Remelle, Lord Benson, and Lady Essar.”

It did not escape his notice that only Essar said hello.

“So you are a half-breed, then,” Benson said, his eyes raking over her. He bristled at the hungry look that Benson was giving Aelin. He would be surprised if this night did not end in bloodshed. With the way that Aelin was looking at Remelle and the way Benson was looking at Aelin. One or both of them would snap.

“My great-grandmother was Fae. So if that makes me demi-Fae, l don’t know.”

It was Essar who broke the tense silence, “WeIl, I look forward to hearing about your adventures, Rowan—and how you came to be here, Elentiya. But first, l think I should very much like a bath and something to nibble on.“ She slid an apologetic look in Aelin’s direction. “I’d kill for anything chocolate right now.”

He wondered if it was the fire that flowed through both of their bloodlines that fueled the love of anything chocolate.

#The Prince of Ice #Prince of Ice #rowan whitethorn #rowan pov #aelin ashryver galathynius #heir of fire #sparkleywonderful

[modernbookfae]

Maeve, Erawan, Blackbeak Matron 😈

@sparkleywonderful such a devious mind! Well...let’s just twist this up here a little bit...Kiss (of death): Maeve Marry (and put him 6 feet under): ErawanKill: Blackbeak MatronI mean...isn’t this a now win-win-win situation????

#kiss marry kill #sparkleywonderful

[mytileneve]

Is it . . . Helion?

Nope! This week’s is Azriel (it’s here) but I did Helion a couple of weeks ago (here) 😊

#ask #sparkleywonderful #acosap

[titanialioness]

sparkleywonderful reblogged your post and added:

I almost wrote this twice. One version Feyre...

Yes, Maas 100% made the best choice to draw out the romantic tension by not having him say anything during Starfall! It really would have changed the direction of the story if she’d put that confession in then.

It just also seems like a good opportunity for the fanfic community to create some fluff scenes :)

#sparkleywonderful

[booksapphic]

@blackbeak replied to your post: “ k I need to know: if Elain’s college major is...”

MUSIC

ahh yes of course my precious fox son is a musician but... am i the only one who can see him doing something related to his canon role as emissary? 

@sparkleywonderful replied to your post: “ k I need to know: if Elain’s college major is...”

Music or engineering

he can’t do anything STEM because of Plot Reasons but since that’s two of you, music major it is! (esp bc i can have a bit where elain is like ‘ooo music major sing for me!’ and so he awkwardly sings and turns bright red it’ll be CUTE) 

#blackbeak #sparkleywonderful #thank you for your help!!!!! #anna replies

[arielle-reads]

I have a very important question for all of you:

Does anyone that has been here since when ACOWAR came out remember when we were all calling Lucien "Firedick" because of the quote "Autumn males have fire in their veins and they fuck like it too"? Anyone? @sparkleywonderful and @propshophannah I know you two were around back then for sure🤣

We need to bring that back. I miss ole Firedick Lucien.

#acowar #lucien vanserra #acotar #lucien

[propshophannah]

Do you think Elriel has a chance? And do you think Azriel will get over Mor and fall in love with Elain or will his love for Mor be the big elephant in the room that stops that relationship, besides the whole mate bond thing with Lucien?

HI NONNIE! I think ANYTHING is possible. There was a time when Elriel was a few pieces of drift wood @sparkleywonderful and I tied together with our leg hair. But then book 3 and the novella came out and there is certainly a much sturdier foundation upon which that ship can be built. But honestly, I won’t care either way who elain ends up with romantically. I love Elriel because it hits so many of my nerd buttons, but I also love elucien. So I’m game for whatever! If all we get is Elriel brOTP I’ll be fine with that. And if that’s what we get for Elucien, I’ll be fine with that as well. I’m here for the angst, the soul searching, the gut wrenching indecision—and of course the cuddles and fluff and all those small moments when a couple stare at each other for a moment too long, or sit too close on the couch, or realize that of all the people that can help them out of a situation they only want THAT ONE PERSON to come help. Like UGH. Stick me with a fork, I’m done. 💀💔🗑

Will Az stop pining for Mor? God, I hope so. LOL. It would be weird and kind of creepy if he didn’t. I could see his pining for Mor being something he needs to face. And i say pining I’m not sure I would call it romantic love? I’d need more insight into how he thinks of her and sees her in relation to himself in order to decide if I think he truly loves her romantically or if he’s built up the idea of loving her romantically. (Idk if that makes sense?) I don’t want any Az and Mor drama tho. I just want Az to wake up one day and realize that whatever he thought he felt for Mor is gone and that what he feels for this other person is so much stronger and deeper and life changing that he could never have felt the same way for Mor. I wouldn’t care if they briefly talked about it but I’m not here for anyone to have to explain their feelings (Mor) to anyone else. Just cuz.... idk. There is an argument to be made that Az’s pining crosses a line. So, I’m just.... I almost don’t want them to talk about it, or I want it to be done in such a way that it’s not cringe and Mor’s not left explaining to a man why she does not or could not reciprocate. Like if he realized he loved someone else in such a way that he realized whatever he felt for Mor was nothing but a crush (and a crutch), at the same time Mor starts openly dating a lady—and all he says is like “oh, now I get it.” I’d be fine with that. (I’m also not thinking too deeply about this as I’m writing in my phone in the couch and this is probably riddled with errors and too many random thoughts, so I could change my mind or realize I’m being a total asshole.)

So yeah. That’s where I’m at nonnie!

[sparkleywonderful]

The Prince of Ice: Ch.25

Part 25 of The Prince of Ice series, a retelling of Heir of Fire from Rowan’s point of view.

The Prince of Ice Parts [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ] [ 9 ] [ 10 ] [ 11 ] [ 12 ] [ 13 ] [ 14 ] [ 14.5 ] [ 15 ] [ 16 ]  [ 17 ] [ 18 ] [ 19 ] [ 20 ] [ 21 ] [ 22 ] [ 23 ]  [ 24.1 ] [ 24.2 ] [ 24.3 ] [ 24.4 ] [ 24.5 ] [ 24.6 ] [ 24.7 ] [ 25 ] [  AO3 ]

3rd body and Adarlan’s secret army (p388)

- - - - - - -

The stench of the body was helping him bury those urges that were roaring. Boundaries. He needed to remind himself of those boundaries as Aelin stripped down to her under things after their three hour run here.

“Well, I can certainly smell him this time,” Aelin said between panting breaths.

“This body has been rotting here longer than the demi-Fae from three days ago.”

He watched as she bit back her snarky remark, she was still angry that he left her to train while he inspected the last discovered body.

He swore as he lifted his forearm to cover his nose and mouth as he examined the husk that remained in a heap of clothing behind a small boulder. The demi-Fae male’s face was twisted in horror.

This could have been Aelin, or Luca, or any of the demi-Fae that resided at Mistward. The second lingering scent was that of the creature from the barrows.

“It has our attention and it knows it,” she said. “It’s targeting demi-Fae—either to send a message, or because they … taste good. But—”

He waited, knowing he was not going to like where her cunning mind just traveled.

“What if there’s more than one?”

He did not want to consider that there was more than one of these monsters.

“You’re old as hell, you must have considered that we’re dealing with a few of them, given how vast the territory is. What if the one we saw in the barrows wasn’t even the creature responsible for these bodies.”

Even with her point, he did not want to consider there was two of them, but he reluctantly nodded in agreement.

“Rowan.”

He looked at her concerned face, “Tell me you see what I’m seeing.”

He let out a vicious curse, “This male--” he had fought, and he had fought with every ounce of his being.

“Fought. He fought back against it. None of the others did, according to the reports.”

He handed over a dagger at Aelin’s silent request.

She yanked down the dagger and he watched as she carefully, as gently and respectfully as she could, run the tip of the dagger under the male’s cracked and filthy nails, then smeared the contents on the back of her own hand. Dirt and something . . . something else.

“What the hell is that?” he demanded, kneeling beside her, sniffing her outstretched hand. He jerked back, snarling. “That’s not dirt.”

He watched as the color drained from her face not from fear, but from horror. Whatever memory she was reliving—

“This isn’t possible,” she said, jolting to her feet. “This—this—this—” She paced, if only to keep from shaking.

His nerves were growing. Another side he had yet to learn was her anxious side. Whatever she scented, had escalated her fear. He knew that what she had experienced was tied to why she journeyed here, why she risked to be caught in Maeve’s web. The Galathynius mistrust of Maeve was shadowed by the threat that was killing these demi-Fae.

He withheld a shudder at that thought. Maeve was powerful, and no one knew why or how magic had disappeared from her continent.  If what she was trying to learn from Maeve had that power, it would be only a matter of time before his own continent would fall victim.

The foulness caused all his protective instincts to surface.  

“I’m wrong. I have to be wrong.”

With his patience growing thin he growled, “Tell me.”

He followed her to the river, listening to a tale of a long forgotten dungeon hidden by a dark tapestry. The tunnel full of images from a long ago battle. The deeper she descended, the older the books and scrolls became. Until she hit an ancient stairwell, the images turned from the ancient battle to a forest with Fae. At the bottom there was only one door, the only other exit the tunnel she had traversed. The one door was made from solid iron and happened to be locked.

A cold sweat slithered down his spine as she told him that while she was studying the door she noticed a shadow, darker than any she had seen through the thin slit along the door. When she slid a shiny dagger through the slit, that the green-gold orbs were reflected. Orbs she could have sworn were eyes. The dungeon itself lined with iron beneath the old castle’s library, one she found one night looking for a foul creature.

She continued to whisper how weeks later after Nehemia’s death she returned to that iron door. How she had used Wyrdmarks to unlock the iron door. She told him of the dozens of cells, all locked until she reached door ninety-nine and beyond was an unmarked door, one that begged her to open it. The second chamber held sixty-six cells, the third chamber held thirty-three, the next hall held twenty-two cells. All locked. The sixth chamber only had nine cells. How in the seventh chamber it felt like death. In an abandoned cell there were fingernail marks in the iron and stone. The ninth chamber had a stairwell that ascended, she continued to walk through the odd stone, until she realized she was in the clock tower. She ran down the steps to the clock tower remembering the cold of the eight guardians and the Obsidian stone the gods forbade.

He held back a snarl as she heard how the creature had tracked her. How the creature had human expressions, with black blood and animal eyes. In his mind her knew that it was either Fae or Witch. Not an ironteeth witch, no the Crohcans had taken after the Fae, that is what his father told him. He should have never called her a girl. Never treated her like a spoiled princess.

Her story did not end there, she continued to tell him how Dorian, the Prince of Adarlan had welded the door and how she had used Wyrdmarks to bind the creature long enough to behead and quarter it. What shocked her the most was that the creature had a human heart. She told him that is how she knew that the King was using a Wyrdkey to create monsters. How she later figured out that the creature had to have had some magic, at least that appeared to have been the pattern.

His heart sank a little. He was not certain if it was because Maeve withheld the knowledge or because in the end Aelin would learn that the there was little knowledge to be gained. Either way, Maeve way spinning her deadly web.

“How did it get here?” Rowan asked, his features now set with icy calm.

“I don’t know. I hope I’m wrong. But that smell—I’ll never forget that smell as long as I live. Like it had rotted from the inside out, its very essence ruined. But it retained some cognitive abilities. And whatever this is, it must have them, too, if it’s dumping the bodies.”

She stood near the stream, when she broke the silence, “Demi-Fae … they would make perfect hosts, with so many of them able to use magic and no one in Wendlyn or Doranelle caring if they live or die. But these corpses—if he wanted to kidnap them, why kill them?”

That was an easy question to answer, “Unless they weren’t compatible, and if they weren’t compatible, then what better use for them than to drain them dry?”

After all, the creature she spoke of was discarded.

“But what’s the point of leaving the bodies where we can find them? To drum up fear?”

He could not answer her, instead he ground his jaw and stalked through the area. As he examined the ground, the trees, the rocks he could not help but think that the things the King was doing was far more vile than Sollemere. Before he could think too deeply he said, “Burn the body, Aelin.”

He removed the sheath and belt that had housed the dagger and tossed them to her. She caught them with her free hand.

“We’re going hunting.”

They found nothing, even when he shifted into his hawk form and circled high above. As the light grew dim, they climbed into the biggest, densest tree in the area. They squeezed onto a massive branch, huddling together, he would not let her summon even a flicker of flame. There were creatures in these woods that he knew would be attracted to her flame. The one he was just learning about, he had a feeling a fire would be a beacon to their location.

He wanted to know everything about the creature in the library, he made her retell him in as much detail as possible. The library itself reminded him of a prison in another long forgotten Fae Kingdom.

After she finished telling her everything she could remember, he took out one of his long knives and began cleaning it. The weapon did not need to be cleaned, but the motion opened his mind as he tried to recall all of his adventures and missions, to see if any small detail triggered a memory or tied this creature to another land.

“Do you think I was mistaken? About the creature, I mean.”

He knew she was not mistaken, she had been trained to recall and respond to the smallest details.

“We’re dealing with a cunning, lethal predator, regardless of where it originated and how many there are. If you were mistaken, I’d consider it a blessing.”

They sat huddled in a tree branch for a long while before she broke the silence,

“You once told me that when you find your mate, you can’t stomach the idea of hurting them physically. Once you’re mated, you’d sooner harm yourself.”

“Yes; why?”

“I tried to kill him. I mauled his face, then held a dagger over his heart because I thought he was responsible for Nehemia’s death. I would have done it if someone hadn’t stopped me. If Chaol—if he’d truly been my mate, I wouldn’t have been able to do that, would I?”

That truth. If he hadn't known better, he would have said that they were mates. That he understood looking for something that was not there, to be desperate for it. In their case something that could not be there. But the hope not to be alone in the world, to crave that bond was not hopeless. He hoped that someday she would have that joy. How even now he wanted that for himself. If he was honest with himself that he hoped he could have had that bond with her.

“You hadn’t been in your Fae form for ten years, so perhaps your instincts weren’t even able to take hold. Sometimes, mates can be together intimately before the actual bond snaps into place.”

He would not tell her how in the mornings before she woke, how he would pray to the gods to bestow upon him a second bond. One that he would not waste. He also battled every morning with the guilt of thinking such a thought. Lyrica deserves better, deserved more than him. The princess deserved the same. But hope, he hoped against his better judgement that the gods would throw him this lifeline. Especially with the evil that was stirring in their world. A period of solace before he was taken by the dark God.

“It’s a useless hope to cling to, anyway.”

“Do you want the truth?” She tucked her chin into her tunic and closed her eyes. “Not tonight.”

He loosened his breath from relief.  He was not certain he could have shared the truth with her. He had shown her his soul, but to share a dream was another matter.

#The Prince of Ice #prince of ice #rowan whitethorn #rowan pov #aelin ashryver galathynius #heir of fire #hof #sparkleywonderful

[bookofmirth]

134. Dorian

Prompt: ”They don’t like dogs. It wasn’t going to work out.”

I don’t even have a summary. I’ll just leave this here.

********

Dorian was at dinner withhis friends when the question he was dreading comes.

“Dorian, how’d thatdinner go yesterday,” Aelin asked casually. “With that woman you told me about.The blonde? Tall, right? Intelligent? Pretty? Not unlike yours truly?”

Rowan brushed a hand overher thigh under the table, warning her to go easy on their friend.

“Oh it went well enough.The food was good, the conversation was pleasant. We went to a newerrestaurant, Alejandro’s,” he answered, concentrating on his food.

Rowan cut in. “It’s avery intimate setting, I’m given to understand. I’m sure you enjoyed having abit more privacy there.”

Aelin went on, ignoringhis tone, while Dorian gave him a grateful – if resigned – look. “And what wasshe like? What’s her name? Are we going to get to meet her soon?”

Dorian sighed; he couldtell that Aelin was going to be a fountain of questions, but he tried tocontinue eating.

She heard Rowan release asmall, exasperated breath of air beside her, but she persisted. “What book was she buying?You really don’t need to be with anyone who can’t stand reading the same thingsas you. Or someone who reads books about, I don’t know… how to establish yourvery own dictatorship. Oh! I know, maybe I can loan her one of my dirty novels…”She grinned wickedly at her friend as she finally paused long enough to let himrespond.

“Well actually, that’show we started talking. I saw her looking at some things and offered to giveher some suggestions. One thing led to another, and she asked me to join herfor dinner. And I don’t need you to loan any of your books to my lovers, Aelin.”

“Wait - lovers? How didthis evening end, exactly?” Aelin leaned forward in her seat, her own foodcompletely forgotten.

“We went home together,actually,” he admitted. He coughed and then immediately filled his mouth withfood, trying his hardest to keep Aelin’s curiosity from forcing him to talkabout this topic at dinner, in front of Rowan, to distract her somehow.

“I knew it! Rowan, I toldyou he had a good time. I could tell.” She looked over at her husband and pushedhis shoulder lightly in her excitement. Rowan pursed his lips, trying to avoidDorian’s look. The two had grown close recently, and he didn’t want Dorian tothink he’d had anything to do with gossip about his love life.

“So, when are you goingto out again? Or maybe we’ll get to meet? Oh, there is an event next week, veryfancy, you could send her a dress, girls love it when you do that…” Aelin’simagination began to take over as her voice trailed off.

“Actually, they don’tlike dogs. It isn’t going to work out,” he replied, dishing food out from thebowls on the table to refill his own plate.

Aelin and Rowan both started,trying not to exchange a look.

“They?” Aelin repeated.

“Yeah. Didn’t I tell you?There were three of us, at dinner. She wasn’t alone at the bookstore. She hadcome with her boyfriend and they were looking for a book about gardening…” Hisvoice trailed off as he realized that Aelin and Rowan were gaping at him.

“Wait, Dorian. You meanto tell me that… you helped someone find a book… about gardening,” Aelin asked.She squeezed Rowan’s thigh, willing him to be silent, now.

“Yeah… you don’t knoweverything about me, Aelin. I rather enjoy botany. Anyway, they were nicepeople, but you know I’m not much of a cat person. They had three.” Dorian dug into hisplate, glad that he now given them as much information as they needed about hisdinner the evening before.

Rowan raised an eyebrowat Aelin and she shrugged. They all continued eating as the conversation movedon to other, more mundane topics.

******

Working on a malide prompt, but I can take a couple more: dialogue prompts

#dorian havilliard #aelin #rowan #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #sparkleywonderful #my writing #prompt #mine

[works-of-shyvioletcat]

Thanks very much to @sparkleywonderful for the prompt. I hadn’t written Nessian before so this was quite exciting. (Ps your Elorcan prompt is on its way as well)

Nessian: Are you wearing my shirt? 

Cassian snapped his wings out as he stood on the doorstep of his home. A light snow had fallen on his walk home and he flicked it away now to prevent it melting and dripping once he stepped inside. He knew only trouble awaited him if he did. 

Giving his wings a final shake he opened the door and stepped inside and was greeted by a delicious warmth that he could already feel seeping through his weather chilled clothes. Taking off his coat, he hung it by the door and carried the small bag of groceries he held to the kitchen. The house was unexpectedly quiet which either meant Nesta was out or she was napping. Cassian assumed it to be the latter as it seemed to be one of her preferred pastimes recently.

Stepping as quietly as he could, Cassian made his way to the sitting room and that is where he found her. She was tucked into the largest of the couches, head on a cushion and a thin blanket pulled tightly around her. Nesta always looked younger when she slept, even though she had been quite young when she was made immortal, her face took on a careless and relaxed demeanour that was so often absent when she was awake.

He knew he should let her sleep, but his feet betrayed him, and before Cassian could stop himself he was kneeling beside her pressing a light kiss to her forehead. He cursed himself inwardly as Nesta stirred and looked up at him. 

“Hello sweetheart,” he whispered. Nesta only blinked twice, moaned in frustration and closed her eyes again, but still very obviously awake. 

Cassian chuckled and lent in to kiss her once again. As his lips gently caressed Nesta’s skin again, he breathed in her scent. He breathed it in deep, savouring it, but he started a little when he smelt something a little unexpected. Cassian smelt himself, well more of himself than he usually did, He reached up and pulled back the blanket that covered her shoulder. 

 “Are you wearing my shirt?” Cassian asked through his smile. 

Nesta sighed and pulled the blanket back to cover what Cassian had uncovered, eyes still closed. “Yes, none of mine fit.” 

Cassian's smile only widened at the confirmation and he felt some sense of male satisfaction deep in his chest. His pregnant mate, in his shirt, surrounded and enveloped by him. He thought that maybe he should demand it back, so he could wrap her in his arms and wings instead. He opened his mouth to say as much but he was cut off. 

“Before you make some smartass remark about me taking your shirt with out permission, or you wanting it back, or whatever your brain is thinking…” Nesta paused and snuggled further into the couch and blanket, “I know you love it.” 

Nesta smiled now, a true unreserved smile as she reached out through half open eyelids to stroke Cassian's cheek. He lent into the touch, covering her hand with his and stroked the back of her palm. Although her eyes were closed and could not see, Cassian returned the smile as he felt utter contentment in what he had within in his hand and heart.

Wanna send me a prompt? Click here

#i'm sorry it got so sappy at the end #i blame the writers block #but its cute and i kinda like it #thank you sparkleywonderful #nessian #acomf #acotar #nessian fanfiction #cassian x nesta

[mayhemories]

Braids & War Paint (Part 14)

Notes On:

Part 1: / Part 2: / Part 3: / Part 4: / Part 5: / Part 6: / Part 7: / Part 8: / Part 9:/ Part 10: / Part 11: / Part 12: / Part 12.5 (smush, not smut, not fluff but smush) / Part 13: 

B&WP Aesthetics: 

Aelin woke to a cold cot, Rowan was up, tying his boot laces as Aelin stretched out.

She crawled across the furs and reached out to trace patterns down Rowan’s muscled back.

Aelin knew it was selfish to steal these last fleeting moments with Rowan, but Aelin will never regret knowing what his skin felt like or how he lightly snored once he feel into deep slumber.

If she was to die today, she would be thankful for the time she was allowed to spend with him, however short it was. 

Rowan touched his braid, his fingers snagging on the small silver rings.

“What is the matter, Fireheart?” Rowan asked, quietly, like charming a snake, he grasped her wrists and spun Aelin around to face him, maybe, Aelin thought, he wanted to see her face again, one last time. 

“If I die today, Buzzard, it’s up to you to protect my people.” Aelin tried to be lighthearted as she could delivering a message like that. 

Rowan’s eyes softened and his hand ran along Aelin’s identical braid. 

The braids they had shared to signify their marriage. 

“You won’t die today, Aelin, I won’t allow it.” 

Aelin and Rowan sat their for a long while, just holding each other in silence, remembering details of their mate that no one else knew. 

They sat trying to imprint every characteristic of each-other in their memories, so that if one of them left this world today and passed into the shadow vale, all shall be remembered. 

The day had come and Aelin was prepared. She knew what she must give up in order to save many.   

It was noon, the sun was at it’s highest, granting her well of power to overflow, making it easier for her to reach to there otherworld and persuade her grandmother, Deanna, to support her in this conquest.   

 Absentmindedly, Aelin, again, ran her hand along the ringed braid that signified their marriage.   

She sat at the breakfast table with Rowan, Galan, Maeve and her Cadre. 

It made Aelin sick, the food that Maeve had been preparing, while many in her army were bleeding out or dying slowly or feeling the infections enter their mortal meat sacks. 

But here they sat, sausages, toast, eggs, chicken, relish and cheeses all laid out before them, as if they were dining in Maeve’s stone palace, not a battleground. 

“Aelin?” Elide quietly questioned in a way of greeting, Nox and herself pulled the witch mirrors up the hill from the Terrasen camp, into the war torn Doranelle encampment.   

“Elide, brilliant, you two are doing brilliant.”Aelin said, meaning every word, she stood from the breakfast table and waltzed towards her two friends, kneeling down to inspect the mirrors from underneath their thin fabric, not a single chip missing. She was thankful for their interruption, a minute longer of listening to Maeve and Galan might have accidentally caused Aelin to murder. 

“Where should we install them?” Nox asked, his thin wire glasses sliding down his face. 

Aelin had planned for this, when Manon gave her the witch mirrors she said that they must be placed in a trisector, to represent the three faced goddess. 

And Maeve, being the blatantly obvious queen she was, placed her camp on the highest spot of ground. 

“They’ll need to sit across the bay, I want one in the clearing you’ve checked Elide, the other two must sit opposite each other on the cliffs either side of the bay, we must trap them in.” Aelin said, her mark starting to burn on her forehead.   

Nox and Elide quickly got to work as Aelin sat back at the breakfast table, she saw the Cadre share confused, critical looks, Maeve looked bored and Galan... Galan was Galan. But what truely peaked her interest was how Lorcan watched Elide’s every step, every movement. 

“Should I even bother to ask you what the plan is?” Galan muttered, stabbing at a sausage on his plate. Aelin rolled her eyes at her cousin, if he wanted to know the plan he should’ve chosen the right queen to pledge allegiance to. 

Though, Aelin would rather die than have Galan as her lap dog. She didn’t know how they could possibly be related, he was so...spineless.   

“No one knows the plan but me and that’s how it will stay.” Aelin said, making eye contact with her great aunt Maeve across the table, though the sentence was directed at Galan.   

Rowan quickly sent a warning flare down their bond, as if to say, don’t create more trouble than its worth. 

“Why is the inventor here?” Gavriel asked, nodding to where Nox once stood, 

Aelin smirked, before standing to go aid Elide and Nox, saying:

“Inventor, jeweller and blood money enthusiast, actually.” 

Manon was impatient.   

She was passing back and forth in the Rifthold throne room, protracting and retracting her iron maul and claws. 

Her and her Thirteen were suited for battle, they had flown from Morath early in the morning, their wyverns laid soaking up the sun outside, in the glass castle’s gardens.   

There had been no sign from Aelin, Dorian kept trying to assure both Manon and Chaol that 'no news was good news, with Aelin.’   

Dorian sat lounging on his throne, in battle leathers, even though this boy, her mate, had never seen a battle in his life. That was obvious, as he made a bed of blue flowers with his raw power. Chaol scowled at him, but Manon could tell that under all that flesh and angry facade, Chaol was at peace knowing that his newly appointed king had not yet seen blood shed.   

Nesryn Faliq sat at the base of the dais, counting her own weaponry, taking inventory of the Adarlan army. Manon enjoyed her company, she said nothing.   

The doors of the throne room flew open as Manon’s cousin, Asterin - Manon’s second in command, Sorrel, her third and Vesta strolled in from outside.

Asterin had blue blood dried on her fingers, caked on and old. 

“All three mirrors are in place, if Aelin has anything to say, we’ll know.” Asterin said, a bright beaming smile took hold of her tan skin. Her gold flecked black eyes shone with mischief and eagerness that Manon only saw when Asterin was on the back of her wyvern.   

“Well,” Dorian said, sitting upright with a smirk on his face that sent Manon reeling, unbeknownst to anyone. “Now we wait for Aelin.”   

Sorscha sat on the floor near Nesryn, she had only met Aelin for the first time this year and from what Manon could tell, they got on quite well, however anyone could see that Sorscha was upset about being Dorian’s personal healer on a battlefield, Manon discreetly could sense that Sorscha resents the whole situation, anger directed at Aelin wasn’t a first, but anger from Sorscha, directed at anyone, was most definitely a first.   

“What is so brilliant about Aelin, anyway?” Sorscha asked, her innocent voice was held by a child’s pout. 

Nesryn narrowed her eyes at the healer, Chaol seemed to fall back in time, probably remembering his fling with Aelin, no doubt, Asterin rolled her eyes at the girl. But it was Dorian who was most offended. 

He stood and walked to one of the large windows, looking out towards Abraxos. 

Manon knew that Dorian could never be angry at Sorscha, as he romantically cared for her a few summers ago, it was just not in Dorian’s nature to be angry at anyone.   

But he was seething.

That one backhanded comment sent the newly crowned king of Adarlan into a quiet frenzy within his own mind, Dorian would defend Aelin until he bled out and everything in the world turned dark and died. Dorian still loved Aelin, not romantically, not anymore, but Dorian loved Aelin like a sister, Dorian loved Aelin as much as Aelin loved herself. 

Manon was sure she could slice the tension in the air with Wind-Cleaver, but Dorian beat her to it, speaking calmly, quietly, like a whisper on the wind in the Wastes. 

“Her Majesty, Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, Queen of Terrasen and the wildfire, heir of Brannon, blessed by Mala, child of Deanna, blessed of Mab and Mora, bringer of light, the queen whom was promised.” Dorian turned and looked at Sorscha, his blue eyes burning with that raw power that Manon had learned to crave. “Is brilliant because she will not forget, she will not forgive, and she will not be afraid.”

Lady Ansel of Briarcliff was wet, cold and miserable. And gods be damned, when she saw Aelin again, you best believe that Ansel will tell her just that. 

Ansel stood on the bow of Captain Rolfe, heir of the Mycenians flagship. 

Ansel hated the ocean, she hated looking down into the water beside her and seeing sea dragons underneath her. Ansel hated the fact that she’d do anything for Aelin, she thought as she looked out at the armada that had set out to aid her, 'stop a war before it truely begins’ is what Aelin had penned in her letter. 

Ansel had rallied her finest soldiers, mercenaries, assassins and friends, hauled ass to Skull’s Bay, boarded Captain Rolfe’s ships, alongside his pirate friends and Mycenian soldiers. 

Aelin wasn’t just rallying an army, she was rallying a revolution. 

Ansel put her hand on her wolf pommeled sword and swayed in the salt stained breeze, Rolfe only a few metres away copied her actions, placing his tattooed hand on his sea dragon pommel. Black spots formed on his tattoo, signifying what the believe to be the Valg that Aelin had warned them of. 

So, the Golden Wolf and the Sea Dragon sailed across the sea to aid their friend, repay debts, end tyranny and birth a new world. 

A:N/ Finna bout time I uploaded. 

1.6k words. 

Hope y’all enjoyed this somewhat. :)

If you’d like to be tagged, just ask. 

Many kisses and hugs,

-El. 

@2-bookmaster-2 @aelin-and-feyre @rowanismybae @sparkleywonderful @cassiancalore @igniscorde7112 @illyrian-high-lord @daughterxofxnight @bigsis227 @crazybookladythings @gcarroll @sugarcoated44 @wolffrising @notjustanyoldfangirl @bluephoenix222 @readinglikewildfire @fck-tamlin @and-re123

#BRAIDS AND WAR PAINT #Braids & War Paint #ToG #CoM #HoF #QoS #EoS #KoA #tab #Tod #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass au #game of thrones fan fiction #aelin #aelin ashryver #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius #rowan #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowaelin fluff #rowaelin smut #rowan x aelin #aelin x rowan #Aedion #aedion ashryver #lysandra #aedion x lysandra #lysaedion

[ourbooksuniverse]

Fanfic writer appreciation day.

So apparently today is the day that we extra appreciate the wonderful writers of fanfiction.

Well my darlings, I appreciate all of you. Reading fanfiction was my in into the fandom life. Thanks to you my bookhangover is cured, my obsession feed and my wait for next instalment lessened.

@howtotameyourillyrian @ladyvanserra @moonbeammadness @illyrianrhys @mariamuses @bookaholic1012 @illyrianbeauty @rhysands-highlady @rhysand-vs-rowan @sparkleywonderful and many others thank you, thank you, thank you. 😘

#fanfic #writers

[bronson]

HUGE thank you to @xladyyrenewestfallx for making this banner!!! obviously it’s amazing 

I recently hit 1k followers (WHAT THE FUCK) and I wanted to shoutout all the amazing blogs that have inspired me this past summer. some of them actually convinced me to create an ACOTAR blog in the first place and so many of them convinced me to read other books that I’ve since fallen in love with. so thank you to everyone in this list and everyone in this fandom! 

UPDATE: PLEASE NOTE that I DID NOT FINISH THIS so if you’re not on it, DO NOT FRET, but too long has passed since I began it and some of my faves have changed their URLS and/or deactivated so I think I’ll just leave it as is for right now!!!!! I’ll do another one if I make it to 1500!!!!

a-f

@a-court-of-illyrian-warriors, @adarlanshighcourt​,  @aelinscourt, @aelinofstorms, @aelin-and-feyre, @aelin, @blackhtorns, @bugheadboi, @catastrophicallyinlovewithbooks,  @cassiandnesta, @chaolwestfal, @cruelwickedthing, @dearinej, @deceitofstars, @dorianthekinkymf, @dr-woodsprite, @dor-nelle, @el-riel​, @escapingtheconstrictingboxes, @feyxsand, @feysandfeels, @foxboy-lucien, @feyre-herondale03, @fleurrdelacour

g-l

@guiltygrande, @grqnde,  @hardfeelngs, @havilliardandgalathynius, @hellostarfall, @highkeynessian, @highladyofdreamcourt, @highlady-casandra, @highladyfxyre, @highfaedaily, @highladystarfall, @highladyofthedark, @highfaenesta, @highladyofshadowhunters, @highladyofdarknesss, @howlingremus, @iamnesta, @iamthebonecarver, @i-nej, @illyrian-bby @illyriangoddess, @illyrianwingspans, @illyrianswingspan @illyrianrhys, @illyrians-wings, @inejbrekers, @iris-cygnets, @justbooklover, @kazbkker, @kuweiyulbo,  @lady-therion, @lillabard, @lilabard, @lilytincture, @lordof-bloodshed, @lysandras

m-r

@maevelin, @matthais, @mayhemories, @modernbookfae,  @nestasbucket, @nessiansmut, @nestaxarchxeron, @nightfae, @night-and-stars-eternal​ @noahczernry, @persephene, @pipedraems, @queen-archeron, @radientwings,  @rhaesgar, @runesandfaes, @rowanismybae, @rowan-buzzard-whitethorn, @rhysand-vs-rowan,

s-z

@sassyreads, @sincerelyharry, @sixofcries, @sparkleywonderful, @the-bookish-soul, @throneofglassfeels, @throne-of-feels, @velarhys, @violet-ahs214, @writtenbyourstruly, @whitethornashryvergalathynius, @wylanv, @wingsofanillyrian,

[propshophannah]

I'm loving your Nesta analyse, like wow gurl, that was deep. And I was wondering what you think of Elain. (I personally am not a fan of her, can't really explain way but she bothered me allot during the book.)

THANKS!! I’m gonna make a few more. And I haven’t thought a lot about Elain outside of how I see Maas using her to explain about Nesta. But there were a few JUICY moments where she said something and I was like “Oh damn, I’m not paying enough attention.” 

Off the top of my head, her fake smiles, her school-girl-with-a-crush reactions to Azriel, HIS reactions to her. And that whole scene at the dinner table when she blatantly asked Amren about switching bodies. that was really interesting. I need to go back and re-read and think about it more. Elain was definitely used in this book more to highlight Feyre and Nesta’s arcs. But Maas certainly laid some groundwork for Elain’s novel.

The thing I keep coming back to with her is if she’s not a low-key shadowsinger. I know that sounds crazy at this point. But we always see her with Shadows and there was that Truth-teller thing, and now that I’m writing this I’m remembering this conversation I had last night with @sparkleywonderful about Ramiel and the three stars… 

I’ll make a bigger post on it soon, but I don’t think it’s an accident that three bastard Illyrians made it to the top the Ramiel to touch the onyx monolith. I don’t think it was an accident that the three Archeron sisters all became made Fae. I don’t think it was an accident that Strygia and the Bone Carver died. I don’t think it was an accident that Nesta is said to be a Death Goddess and Cassian is the “Lord of Bloodshed/a War God (because Death and War walk hand-in-hand). I don’t think it was an accident that Feyre is the High Lady of the Night Court, mated to Night himself. I don’t think it was an accident that Elain is the constant gardener and that a Shadow himself (A GUY NAMED AFTER THE ORIGINAL GRIM REAPER/ANGEL OF DEATH) was the only one who saw her. I see that and my brain goes:

The three stars are each a sister, each only able to shine because of the darkness coming off the male at their side. (Rhys is night, Az is shadow, Cassian is the dark of war and bloodshed.)

Feyre is the Night aka the Stars Eternal—Eternity.

Nesta is a Death Goddess aka the Cold Fire—Death.

Elain is a Death Goddess of Life, aka the Constant Gardener—Life. 

(For Elain, I mean this in the same way the Bone Carver was the death god of Life. He “saw” everyones future and their lives and knew when they would die. The idea of “tending the garden” is SO SO SOOOO rich with history in the arts and in religion and you add a shadow dude named AZRIEL (the OG grim reaper/angel of death) and it’s so perfect I could cry.)

Life and Death and Eternity. Three stars. For three sisters who each embody those ideas.

But I’m gonna make a post on that later. I’ll think about Elain more and make a post I anything comes to mind.

#acofas spoilers #elain archeron #NEsta archeron #Feyre archeron #Ramiel #Night Court Insignia #archeron sister meta #night court insignia theory

[sparkleywonderful]

The Prince of Ice: Ch 24.1

Part 24.1 of The Prince of Ice series, a retelling of Heir of Fire from Rowan’s point of view.

The Prince of Ice Parts [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 8 ] [ 9 ] [ 10 ] [ 11 ] [ 12 ] [ 13 ] [ 14 ] [ 14.5 ] [ 15 ] [ 16 ]  [ 17 ] [ 18 ] [ 19 ] [ 20 ] [ 21 ] [ 22 ] [ 23 ]  [ 24.1 ] [ 24.2 ] [ 24.3 ] [ 24.4 ] [ 24.5 ] [ 24.6 ] [ 24.7 ] [  AO3 ]

A/N: I have been dying to write this chapter, just dying. It was so much fun to write and I always felt that this exclusive belonged in the book. Although we all filled in the gaps, it is the first time you truly see the friendship that is growing between Rowan and Aelin. For tumblr, I will be braking this apart into seven sections for your viewing pleasure.

Gratitude goes to @bookofademigod and @themaasofwar for posting the target exclusive. Without this I would have never been able to write this very important POV.

- - - - - - -

Months before Aelin reclaimed her identity as the long-lost Queen of Terrasen, she still called herself Celaena Sardothien - and was trained to wield her rekindled magic by a Fae Prince in a mountain fortress of Wendlyn… Despite their rough beginning, Aelin and Rowan have finally formed a solid friendship, based on mutual respect, trust, and more than a bit of banter. But just when their bond begins to shift into something neither of them quite anticipates - something far deeper - the fortress of Mistward receives a visit from three Fae nobles. And one of them claims some very, very personal ties to Rowan himself. Read on for an exclusive deleted scene from Heir of Fire, in which Aelin gets her first glimpse of the Fae nobility of Doranelle, and a bit more of Rowan’s history is revealed to her … with fiery consequences.

- - - - - - -

He blinked, then reread the missive. He could deal with Benson and even possibly enjoy the company of Essar. It was who signed the missive that made his blood run cold. Remelle. He headed to the kitchen to gather Aelin and hoped that she was in a pleasant enough mood to grant him this one favor.

He watched her lounging on a boulder, her golden hair gleaned in the sun, the heir of Mala evident in the glow around her. She was changing, the healthy weight, the healing soul and the aging that happened to women between their late teens and twenties was beginning to settle into her face. She had always been beautiful, but her features were beginning to sharpen in some places while softening in others, transforming her to breathtaking.

“What’s your favorite food?”

They had been doing this exchange back and for for weeks. Sometimes it was like this, light and harmless, other times they peeled the layers back that had protected them from the world and left them feeling raw, exposed.

“Whatever keeps me alive at the moment.”

It was an honest answer, he did not know when but at some point he stopped enjoying food.

She clicked her tongue. “Could you be any more of an animal?”

He slid a glance in her direction, lifting a brow he had to remember she was raised by mortals, not Fae, especially not a Fae warrior who just happened to shift into a hawk. When she only scowled, he signed.

“There’s a street vendor in Doranelle who sells meat on a stick.”

“Meat on a stick,” He could see her fighting to keep her lips in a straight line.

“And I suppose yours is some confection or useless bit of sugar.”

“Sweets aren’t useless. And yes. I’d crawl over hot coals for a piece of chocolate hazelnut cake right now.”

He could almost smell the sadness on her. He wondered if there was a deeper memory tied to the useless confection.

“What good could that possibly be for keeping your body strong? With your magic, you’d burn through it and be hungry again within half an hour.”

She propped herself on her elbows. “Your priorities are obscenely out of order. Not all food is for survival and strength-building. You didn’t even try one of the chocolates from that town. I guarantee the moment you do, every time I turn my back, you’ll be shoveling them down.”

He just stared at her, before she decided it would be best to change topics, “Favorite color?”

He looked down from his perch, over the foothills and valleys of Wendlyn rippling away below them, “Green.”

“I’m surprised you actually know.”

He narrowed his eyes, but said, “What’s yours?”

“For a while, I made myself believe it was blue. But -- it’s always been red. You probably know why.”

He made an affirmative sound, while she raised a hand above her, threading a line of fire through her fingers. She plaited it between her knuckles, then snaked it down her palm, until it curled around her wrist, twining and slithering along her skin.

She had spent more than the last ten years fighting who she was. The fear of who she was and the power she had would continue to be a battle for her. He was slowly learning when to support and when to push.

“Good,” Rowan said. “Your control is improving.”

“Mmhmm.” she lifted her other hand, and rings of flame encircled her fingers. She set to work on carving the flames, forging them into individual patterns.

He was not sure what made him say it, “Try it on me.”

He responded to her frown, “Do it.”

He didn’t flinch when she fashioned a crown of flame for him. Right atop his head.

“Bold move, one that doesn’t have much space for error.”

“I’m surprised you’re not encasing your head with ice.”

“I trust you,” he said quietly enough that she looked at his face.

And he did, but there was more to her control than he expected, he wondered if she was actively wielding her power not to burn him or if it was instinctive.

“And now one for you,” he said, as a crown of ice formed in the space between them, its delicate spikes rising high. He lifted it between his hands and set it on her head, its weight light.

The innocent small smile she gifted him was everything. In that moment, he remembered that she was more than a demi-Fae, more than a girl, she was a Queen. And it seemed at the same moment, she remembered the same as her flames and smile faltered.

“We’re going to have visitors tonight.”

“Should I be concerned?”

“I -- need your help.”

“Ah. So that’s why you let me have an afternoon of peace.”

He snarled, but she lifted a brow. “Will I finally be meeting your mysterious friends?”

“No. They’re Fae nobility, passing through the area. They requested a place to stay for the night, and will arrive around sunset. Emrys is making them dinner, and I am expected to . . . entertain them.”

When he just looked at her, she said, “Oh, no. No.”

“They will not condescend to dine with the demi-Fae, and --”

“I’m even less acceptable than a demi-Fae!”

“--if I have to play host to them all evening, it will likely end in bloodshed.”

She blinked. “Not favorites of yours?”

He almost laughed at that. Favorites. Even before, he had little patience for court and nobility. The gods above knew that he was fated for a different life far away from politics.

“They’re typical nobility. Not trained warriors. They expect to be treated a certain way.”

“So? You’re in Maeve’s little cabal. And you’re a prince to boot. Don’t you outrank them?”

“Technically, but there are politics to consider. Especially when they’ll be reporting to Maeve.”

She groaned. “So what -- I’m supposed to play hostess?”

Her face was miserable, and part of him wondered if she was asking to much from her. “No just  -- help me deal with them.”

“And what am I going to get out of it?”

He clenched his jaw, “I’ll find you a chocolate hazelnut cake.”

“No.” He raised his brows, the confirmation that there was a story behind her love-hate relationship with that particular confection.

She threw a wicked smile at him in response. “You’ll just owe me. A favor that I can call in whenever I please.”

He sighed, lifting his gaze skyward. He did not like how dependent he was becoming on her, but he knew that he would do more damage alone. He needed a reminder of why he needed to stay at Mistward. Why he was a warrior and a Prince only in name. “Just look presentable at sundown.”

#The Prince of Ice #Prince of Ice #rowan whitethorn #rowan pov #aelin ashryver galathynius #heir of fire #sparkleywonderful