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threshholdofescape · 17 days

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Listen, if you think Aedion was in the wrong for his attitude towards Lysandra in the beginning of KOA then perhaps you need to rethink about what happened.

Without his consent, a plan was made for him to sire children he could never claim as his own. Without. His. Consent.

That is grounds to be considered SA.

Aedion is not in the wrong for how he treated Lysandra for this. He should not have been in the dark about this plan. Aelin and Lysandra are very, very, very wrong for having made this plan without him.

#aedion #aedion ashryver #lysandra #aelin #my post #own post #spoilers #i am in the beginning of this book #but like god damn #i love the three of them #but jesus christ #sjm critical

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ourbooksuniverse · 3 months

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So I'm rereading Crown of Midnight and Aedion isn't in this book. But I'm wondering what he is doing.

Does he know the king has a champion?

Does he know it's Celaena? Is he kind of a fangirl for her? I mean he is a fangirl for the Cadre.

What would have happened is the king ordered Celaena to kill Aedion. Aelin: "you have to fake your dead or i have to kill you" Adion: *surprised pikachu face*

Is Aedion plotting to kill the kings champion. Or thinking of a way to convert her to his side.

So much potential for a good fic. Not that i'm going to write it, but I would verry much like to read it. So to AO3 I go.

@pitterpatterpot since you are my favorite when it comes to Aedion fic's have you by any chance written something like this? Or read a fic like this?

#helene rereads #throne of glass #crown of midnight #TOG #celaena sardothien #aedion ashryver #aedion

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pitterpatterpot · 8 months

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"My new aesthetic is the Bane deciding Aedion needs to rest, and so they just toss him from person to person till he takes the hint and goes to get some sleep." Can you plz write this!!! I would love it and it sounds sooo funny!

I’m FINALLY catching up on asks.

Are some of them over two years old? Yes. Don’t judge me.

~~~

Gavriel has many habits. He’s a man of routine - wake up, eat, train, work, and so on. Of course, those routines have been up in the air as of late with all the changes that have happened. Nowadays it’s more so wake up, deal with some shenanigans, eat, force the others to eat, join Aedion on a morning run, more shenanigans, and so on.

Falling back into a military routine while visiting the Bane is easier. The fact they’re helping clean up a recent avalanche isn’t all that good, and he’s freezing his fingers off while his son only needs to wear a light jacket, but he enjoys the familiarity of it all. There’s a purpose to every day. They shovel the snow, clear debris, and work on relocating the small amount of people who have damaged homes.

What he can’t work out amongst all the mess is where in Mala’s name his son is.

“Erickson!” Gavriel pushes through the snow towards the lieutenant, a large man wielding a shovel. “I heard Aedion was with you!”

He had hoped he’d be able to spend time with his son on this trip, the two of them busier than usual with Terrasen opening up new trade routes through Lysandra’s uncle and his merchant company. Instead, he hasn’t seen hide nor hair of his son. Granted, he’s enjoyed hearing stories from the members of the Bane - many of the inner circle knowing Aedion for years - but he’d enjoying seeing his son once this week.

“Gavriel!” Erickson grins, rakish and delighted as he props his tool against his shoulder, turning away from a pile of wreckage. “How are you? Keeping warm with those spare coats?”

Yes, Gavriel had to borrow an extra coat. He wasn’t raised in a cold climate like his son and most of the Bane members.

“Trying to keep the chill away,” Gavriel chuckles. “Have you seen Aedion?”

“Ah, he was with Lorrison, then he was passed onto me, but I just sent him to Smithy so he’s getting closer to his tent,” Erickson chuckles, scratching his beard. “How’s hoping we can shove him in there, eh?”

Hesitating, Gavriel raises a brow. “I… may be a little lost.”

“Oh!” Erickson snorts. “Guess no one filled you in. The general tends to,wear himself out, and when he does we just send him from person to person to tire him out while leading him back to his tent. Lorrison asked him for help setting up barricades, I had him shoveling snow, and I’m pretty sure Smithy asked him for help moving supplies. He should be dead on his feet soon enough, then Kyllian’ll shove him in the tent and stand guard.”

“That’s-“ Gavriel tries to scramble the words together. “You’ve done this before?”

“Ah, we help our own here,” Erickson smiles. “He does the same for us. It use to be easier though, back when he was with Kyllian. The two would just drag each other to bed-“

“Right, thank you,” Gavriel clears his throat. “I’ll-“

“Say, is Lysandra coming? She’s got a tight rein on him-“

“Thank you, Erickson!” Gavriel calls over his shoulder, heading towards the tents.

“Aye! He’ll probably listen if you tuck him in-“

Ignoring the laugh, Gavriel picks up the pace, wrapping his cloak tighter around himself as the sun sets and takes its warmth with it. The mountains are glorious, full of beauty and a wild, untamed spirit. As well as deadly creatures, frostbite, and a wind that’s like a knife through the chest.

(He may only volunteer for spring trips in the future.)

Aedion’s tent is easy to find - the Bane members had put Gavriel’s right next to it before whisking him away to tell stories. Their enthusiasm to have Gavriel in the camp is touching and funny every time.

As he reaches the tent, Kyllian exits, stopping once he sees Gavriel.

“Thank fuck,” Kyllian groans, tilting his head back. “Please go in there and make sure he stays down. He hasn’t slept in three days.”

“That’s why I haven’t seen him in the morning,” Gavriel sighs and rubs his eyes. “Thank you, Kyllian.”

“Good luck,” Kyllian pats him on the shoulder and trudges off, muttering about ‘stubborn bastards’ under his breath.

Walking into the tent, Gavriel snorts at the sight of his son buried under a pile of furs. A blue eye peeks out at him, irritation emerging in the form of a huff and shuffle.

“Are you aware your army has a method for getting you to sleep?”

Grumbling, Aedion buries his head in the furs. “Did you find that out while searching for another coat?”

They’re close enough now that Gavriel feels no fear in snatching a blanket from his son, laughing at the outraged cry that follows.

#tog #throne of glass #aedion ashryver #Aedion #gavriel #Kyllian #ask

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wordsafterhours · 5 days

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Songs About You - Chapter 17

Author's Note: Hello all! I'm sorry if this chapter sucks. I'm not sure who is even around to read this story anymore since it has been so drug out. I did my best to give birth to the idea of this chapter that I had in my head. As always, feedback, comments, and likes are food for the soul.

Word Count: 4.3k

Masterlist

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It seemed anxiety, bordering on near panic, was going to become a constant state of being for Aelin. Gone was the self-assured, cool, confident, and collected woman of the past. Everything she had been, known, hoped, wanted… it all seemed painfully stuck in the past, as unmovable of the mountain peaks surrounding the city.

Perhaps if therapy had been attended, as suggested by a multitude of her friends on more than one occasion, the necessary tools to address how she was feeling would be handily available. In her toolkit. Having to endure needles in her eyes sounded more preferable than attending therapy, so naturally, she had not gone, preferring to shoulder her emotional baggage.

The emotional turmoil of today was stemming from her reluctantly agreed upon dinner at Rowan’s cabin. It had been the price to pay for his visit to her the book shop yesterday. The smart part of her brain screamed no, but a too quick “yes” produced by her messy heart had passed over her lips instead. And it was an answer she’d give and give again just to see the smile that had graced his handsome face, setting his green eyes alight with joy. When this ended, because she knew it would, there was no doubt in her mind, that she would be the proverbial cannon fodder of this situation.

Wincing as she hit a particularly rough pothole, Aelin made a large mental note to chastise Rowan for it. The winter season had only worsened the already shit road and SUV be damned, it didn’t seem to make it any more bearable. Fleetfoot shifted her footing in the passenger seat, glancing over, giving a judgmental look.

“Don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault this road isn’t maintained,” she muttered in contempt.

Lucky for both the golden-haired girls, the A-frame cabin was soon in few, lit by beautiful glass bulbs strung from tree to trees. While his house wasn’t her style, much preferring luxury and the things accustomed with the that lifestyle, there was something perfect about the view she had now. It was quieter than even where she lived. And if possible, it seemed more stars could be seen winking in the sky. The light blues and purple of dusk were fading away into dark blues and black as the sun continued its decent below the horizon.

Cutting the engine, Aelin sat a moment, taking in two large breaths and talked herself down from the anxiety that was clawing violently up her throat. There was no reason to be nervous, not really, if you got past the fact she was spending another evening in his presence, in the home that would one day house his family…

Fine. Everything was perfectly fine. That was the mantra that would headline the forefront of her mind tonight—it had to be. The alternative distressingly cruel.

“Let’s go, girl.” Fleetfoot didn’t need to be told twice, bounding over her lap and out the car door, rounding the corner of the house before her feet had even touched the pine needle ground.

“Well, someone was eager,” she grumbled under her breath as she followed the same path the dog had taken. The backdoor was open, spilling added light across the porch and grass. Chairs circled a firepit that had already had a crackling fire within it. Blankets hung on the back of two chairs. Her mouth watered as a small breeze kissed her skin, bringing with it the smell of garlic and a little spice. The silver haired man had refused to tell her what they were doing, other than he was making her dinner, which he also decided to withhold what it was they would be eating.

Gently, she knocked against the door trim before walking in. Rowan gave her a smile as he lowered a wooden spoon down from his lips and set it down on the counter. “Couldn’t wait for a taste?”

“A cook always has to sample the dish before serving it to others. I wouldn’t want feed you something terrible.”

“My refined palate appreciates that.”

Rowan rolled his eyes, but the small laugh let her know he knew she was just being difficult. She took a seat at the bar top that overlooked the stove. The meal looked simple but it smelled divine, especially with her sitting almost directly over it. “Are you going to tell me what’s on the menu now that I’m here?”

“You’re insufferable sometimes. I hope you realize that,” he answered, flicking her nose.

“I’m wonderful, thank you very much. The only intolerable one here is you.”

“Keep it up and I’ll give the dogs your plate and your part of the dessert.” His face was straight, no slight tick in his jaw or arch of a brow to tell if he was kidding. The discarded spoon was picked back up and used to stir whatever sauce was simmering on the stove top.

Worrying her lip, Aelin said nothing but continued to watch him mill about the kitchen. He flicked off the burners and bent down, giving her a better view of the kitchen. It was like a beacon in the dark, the small image pinned to the fridge with a magnet, that immediately ensnared her wandering gaze. A heavy unease settled in the pit of her stomach the longer she stared at the photo. His tall frame appeared back in her view, but he might as well have been invisible because she just kept staring—a very tangible feeling of nauseousness working up her throat.

Rowan was going to be a father to a baby that would be here before they both knew it. And he would be filling his spare time with raising him or her. Cooking meals in this very kitchen and coming home to someone who Aelin couldn’t stand. Until now, a small part of her had been delusional, quietly whispering that he would still have time for her when it came down to it. But he wouldn’t. This man would be all in for that life that hung proudly against the silver fridge face.

In the haze of her tunnel vision, she had missed him moving until he was turning the stool and pulling her against warm, muscled chest. His heart was thrumming erratically against her ear. This man was far from dumb and likely knew just the reason for her terror-struck silence. “Aelin,” his voiced pleaded against the crown of her head.

“What are we doing Ro?” she cried into him.

“We’re having dinner.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Aelin declared, shoving her palms against his stomach in a paltry attempt to put distance between them. He gripped her harder, snuffing out the hope for any separation.

“Rowan, let me go,” she begged, the words vibrating against them both.

“I can’t, Fireheart.”

“Rowan, there’s a baby on your fridge. Your baby. It’s growing and some months from now, it’s going to be more than just a black and white decoration to look at.” He was lying to himself if he thought he could keeping living his life like this and it broke her heart because he didn’t seem to have an iota about it.

“Aelin, you don’t think I know that?” he barked angrily, stepping back and bumping into another stool. It’s high-pitched squeal making her look up at him. Loosing a frustrated breath, his green eyes weighed heavily on her.

“I can’t change that. I know I’m going to be a dad and it wasn’t how I thought my journey to fatherhood would go, but I know more than anyone, that July is going to bring so many changes. So don’t sit there and preach at me about that stupid black and white photo. I didn’t even put it up there. Lyria did. It’s from when she first found out and it’s a blob. It doesn’t even look like a baby.”

From her vantagepoint, it looked like a potato. Gods, likening a baby to a potato was surely going to get her some gods-given karma down the line. Unsure of what to say to the passionate, yet angry monologue, Aelin elected silence.

“I’m scared out of my mind, but I’m excited, too. Some little human out there is going to call me dad. And I’m going to read poetry to them every night before they go to bed and take them hiking on Saturdays with my friends. I’m going to stroll the streets of downtown Orynth, telling them about a time when there used to be a queen and kind of this country, and how the opalescent buildings were an unheard-of masterpiece when they designed and built. I’m going to take them to Emrys’ and introduce cake when they’re old enough. And we’ll see you when we come to buy books because I want them to know 1,000 different lives. I have to make the most of what I’ve been dealt.”

Tears burned, falling for herself, and falling for the man at her front. Rowan loved that baby, and it was beautiful to see it. But the life he painted; it made her envious. What would a life like that, with him, be like? Would they fight about what book to read? What would be the first poem they would read to their child? Would he get the history just right having not grown up here? Would she have to correct him with a teasing smile?

“What if” was the most painful start to any self-harm idea her brain and heart could muster. What if she had met him a few months sooner? What if it had been her and not Lyria? What if Lyria hadn’t been pregnant at all?

What if. What if. What if.

Calloused thumbs swooped across the swell of her cheeks, wiping away the moisture sliding down. He tilted her head, catching her gaze with his. “There’s a limit to what I can give you, Aelin. I know that, but I’m trying to be here, for you. And if that’s enough for now, then let it be enough. And when it’s not, ask me again to let you go.”

It was appropriate to say while he cradled her in his hands—the declaration literal and figurative and a bittersweet understanding. She knew that whatever unspoken thing tying them together didn’t adhere to the constructs of reason or reality—it unapologetically existed. And for now, the small kernels of time and of himself that Rowan offered to her were enough.

However, they’d both be nothing but fools if they believed with any real hope that this would last beyond July. The gods didn’t cater to mortal whims, not even love or desire, despite what countless words penned in books tried to argue. Aelin knew this better than anyone having suffered unbelievably so in the face of the cards she had been dealt.

Before her parents had died, Arobynn betrayed everyone, and her uncle and cousins’ unwitting complicity in his schemes, her life had been one of unwavering love, joy, and happiness. Every day was not sunshine and roses, but there hadn’t been one thing she’d willingly change.

It occurred to her that she had not offered any sort of response to Rowan’s quiet plea apart from silence. With a rueful twitch of her pink lips, she said hardly audible, “Okay.” The two syllables tasted acerb against her tongue, but she’d utter them again and again if it meant he’d look at her the way he was now. With one last smooth stroke against the apples of her cheeks, he asked, “Are you hungry?”

Aelin gave an enthusiastic nod, which had him freeing her and returning to the other side of the counter, dishing out food onto two plates in a manner that could only be described as routine. A quick jerk of his head silently commanded her to follow him as he took their dinner outside. Once she was seated comfortably in one of the chairs surrounding the fire, did he pass her a plate and take his own seat.

The first few bites had her letting out a low moan that had no right appearing anywhere except within the confines of her bedroom—but damn the gods, she couldn’t help herself. Rowan sounded like he was semi-choking across from her and it made a small, feline smirk of delight grace her lips. There was power in the knowledge that she could and did fluster the man.

Deciding to spare him anymore discomfort, she mercifully kept her indecent sounds and thoughts to herself for the remainder of their dinner which fell into a pleasant, companionable silence. Gently, she discarded the plate on the ground beside her and leaned back into the chair, taking a sip from her beer, and looking up at the stars. Millions of tiny light balls gleamed back at her, some stark white, others hardly more than a dull glow.

“When I was a kid, my parents used to tell me that the stars were all the people that we’d lost looking down on us. It used to make me so upset because I thought it was ridiculous and at that point, I had already learned that they were balls of exploding gas. But as I got older and lost them, I came to the decision that their explanation was the only one I wanted to possess any conviction for. At the very least, it’s a far more beautiful sentiment than any scientific truth.”

Aelin refused to look anywhere but up, not wanting to see pity, understanding, comfort—anything in response to her confession. Vulnerability made her feel weak and broken and she’d shown Rowan more of herself in the months of their friendship than she’d shown must people in years. He was constantly disarming her; strategically knocking a stone loose from the wall she’d armed herself with and with the right move, it would irreparably crumble.

It was inevitable. It was coming. And she wasn’t ready yet… but she wanted to be. Living as a ghost of herself was exhausting and depressing and life was passing her by. Aelin had been a victim of life, of shitty circumstances, and had endured things some people could never imagine even on their worst day. There was more to go through, so much to face and work through, but in the perfect silence of this starlit night, it felt like her parents were by her side, reminding her they’d never left, not really.

“I wish someone would have told me stories like that,” his voice said a little gruff. Hesitantly, she flicked her blue and gold gaze his way, admiring how the firelight played off the sharp angles of his jaw. His green gaze was trained on the sky above as he continued. “I’m not sure if you’ve been to Doranelle but it’s so different from Orynth. I’m not sure if it’s because it’s the largest city east of Wendlyn or because it’s a main trade port for many routes, but it’s never quiet. Something is always going on.”

She’d been once, as a young teenager on holiday with her family, and if she thought hard enough about it, she could almost taste the spice-laden air and hear the vendors selling their wares along the winding, elegant streets. Beautiful pale stone buildings with blue tops and mosaic tiles decorating their walls stood out in her brain. And their palace with its jasmine-wrapped columns and stained glasses ceilings were such a stark contrast from Orynth’s own palace of shimmering opal walls.

“It wasn’t until I was older that I knew the sky held so many stars. The bright lights of the city in culmination with the pale stone buildings, rivers, and mist make it eerily bright all the time. The sun and moon obey the same laws there, but night never seems as dark as it ought to be. Not like here, where on a moonless night, you can’t see five feet in front you. It’s beautiful at home and I was privileged growing up there, but when I was able to see more of the world, I realized there were somethings more beautiful than others.”

His piercing green gaze dropped to hers and held as he said the last part. For someone who wasn’t entirely forthcoming and made it seem like sharing personal information was akin to pulling teeth sans anesthetic, Rowan was a born storyteller. Perhaps, it was because she was sweet on him, but she was more inclined to believe it was in the way he spoke about things. His accent grew thicker, voice lower, his body more relaxed, and green eyes a little brighter.

“I went one summer after I had turned fourteen or fifteen, I can’t quite remember. We traveled every summer for my belated birthday gift. My parents wanted me to be well-rounded and to know the world. That year, Gavriel and Aedion were able to come with us. We’d traveled before as a family but never that far, for that long. It felt nice to just be ourselves without constantly wondering if photographers and journalists were going to be writing about what we were wearing, or what restaurant we frequented, or what new bill my father or mother were trying to pass.”

She loosed a bitter chuckle and picked a little too angrily at her cuticles, causing one to bleed. Rowan’s large hand rested over hers, snuffing out the anxious tendency before she could cause more damage.

“Fireheart, what happened with your uncle and your cousin? I know Elide said they betrayed you, but I saw how your face lit up when you talked about them. It’s clear you miss them. Your parents aren’t here but from what I’ve gathered, they are. You don’t have to tell me. I can feel you stiffening under my hands and you’re holding your breath. Gods, I know it’s painful for you, but you don’t have to carry around those feelings by yourself. There are so many people in your corner who would be more than happy to shoulder some of that weight… You just have to stop holding on to it so tight.”

That wall of hers? Well, there went another stone or two as he laced their fingers together, his gentle but not subtle offer to bare her grief ringing loudly in her ears, as though he had shouted it for the heavens to hear. It wasn’t that her friends hadn’t offered their ears or shoulders before, because they all had, numerous times, but she’d been too devastated to let any ounce of control go. Then, came Rowan, no better than an avalanche bulldozing a mountain full of trees, decimating everything in its wake.

He pushed when she didn’t want to be pushed. Held her when she didn’t know that’s what she wanted. Listened to her fall apart and stayed anyways. He wasn’t perfect. He had hurt her and likely would hurt here more in the future, but in their skewed dynamic, he had given her room to breathe. In shouldering of all the messy, the bad, the dramatic—it had lessened that crippling burden she’d been carrying around for years to just enough to remind her that there was more to life than what she’d been accepting.

And for his gift, she would give him another ugly truth despite the possibility of it opening up an emotional chasm deeper than any fissure on this continent. “I didn’t know how corrupt Arobynn was. To me, in most everything before and for two years after the death of my parents, I just saw him as ‘Uncle A’, my godfather and dad’s best friend. Every holiday, family birthday, fancy gala—he was there. He was my rock after it all. Him and Aedion and Gavriel.”

Aelin shifted forward in her seat and adjusted their still laced fingers on her knee, not wanting to lose the grounding contact, but unable to bare his dark emerald gaze a second longer. It seemed childish to hide, but sometimes if felt like he could see into the very darkest parts of her soul, the ones she didn’t offer up or acknowledge, and that level of discomfort was threatening to flicker out the small tendril of courage she was gripping onto.

“I didn’t know the extent of their involvement in his seedy underground dealings until the middle of the trial. Gavriel was the chair of the historical and restoration department for the city, appointed by my mother. Nepotism at its finest, I know. He had his own construction company as well and Aedion grew up learning from him. After college, he took over more responsibility in the company, leaving Gavriel to devote more time to the public and political aspects of restoring the city. Little did I know then that their company built and restored many underground areas of the city. I think at first, they didn’t realize that they were paving the network that would feed into success of The Vaults, but it became very clear, later on, that they knew. They knew and they continued anyways.”

She gave a harsh chuckle, the notion of their part in the crime syndicate somehow still bitterly amusing years later. Only amusing because they’d let themselves be deceived in the face of overwhelming evidence. Hardly any of the evidence of their involvement had been presented at trial when the betrayal had cut through her like a hot blade. Aedion’s eyes, so like her own, had found her in the sea of people within that room, brimming with guilt and unshed tears. He had looked devastated.

But she had been devastated. And blind-sided. And betrayed. And hurt. And angry.

Again, she had been made a fool at the hands of those who supposedly cared for her. A public spectacle for all the court-goes to gawk at while she crumpled in the front row.

Absent-mindedly, she rubbed at her chest, a poor attempt to soothe the ghost of twinging pain. “I don’t know what Arobynn had over my uncle, but I know it had to have been something because why else would you help a criminal? Half the city’s tunnels existed when we still had a monarch. They deserved the chance to be restored and appreciated. The finished result though surpassed what was initially documented and planned but that didn’t come to light until the underground syndicate was dismantled. No one could figure out how criminals were thwarting law enforcement left and right and all along, the answer was right under their feet.”

“I hadn’t been here long when crime started to uptick. I got mugged outside my truck one night and it was like the guy disappeared into thin air. I tried to chase him but when I turned the corner, there was nothing but empty streets. Makes sense now,” he remarked in an acrimonious tone.

“Manholes, specific businesses, canals… everyone who belonged to the Vaults learned where and how they could use these tunnels to their advantages. Arobynn had his finger in everything from prostitution and drugs to street fighting and ordered hits. When you sit at the right hand of the country’s governor, you make a lot of connections, and he used every one of them to his advantage. My uncle and Aedion redid all the tunnels as my mother asked, but they built new ones seamlessly connected too, creating an intricate and unmarked web unless you knew where to look. Had it not helped Arobynn’s rise to power and criminal empire, I might be impressed.”

Feeling restless and angry, she abruptly stood from her chair and took a few steps back. The air around the fire too warm. Rowan’s hand too heavy. The feelings still too raw.

“I didn’t stay the rest of the day Aedion and Gavriel testified, and I ignored every attempt they made to explain themselves since. There was nothing they were going to say to me that could make their involvement any less painful. I know all the charges were dropped after they disclosed the tunnel maps and trade routes for product moving in and out of the city. I think I could have forgiven just the tunnels, in time, but Aedion was helping run the street fights and Gavriel knew what businesses were operating under the table. I just can’t help but think had they spoken up about Arobynn’s illegal dealings, he might not have had the network, power, or capital to have had my parents murdered.”

And there it was. The repulsive, dark truth that had been festering deep within the walls of her heart for years. Resentment and hate bitterly clamored up her throat as she bent over, hands braced on her thighs, gasping for air. Was she a monster for having no understanding, no compassion for her family? Was she wrong to blame them? Was she as cruel as Arobynn?

The world started to tip, black spots filling her vision as her knees buckled and the ground growing increasingly closer. Familiar muscle flushed against the side of her body, guiding her delicately down. “I don’t know much Fireheart, but there is no world in which you could ever compare to a man like that.”

One hand held firm against the crown of her head, keeping her upright, while the other ran long, soothing strokes down her back. Nothing else was said between them as they sat there. It could have been five minutes or two hours—Aelin wasn’t sure, but she thanked the gods for the still silence and for the friend she’d found in Rowan. Tonight, had been one of courage and candor, and she had faced it head on.

She had not yielded when her heart and head had been screaming otherwise. The world, her world was shifting. It was a dull throb somewhere in the depths of her bones, demanding to be felt, noticed.

Change was coming and she would no longer be afraid.

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Tag list:

@lunadorned @theresyourfireandblood @backtobl4ck @leiawritesstories @morganofthewildfire @rowaelinismyotp @jorjy-jo @theresyourfireandblood @numbers-colors-fashion @swankii-art-teacher @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @stardelia @astra-ad-mare

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aelin-sgalathynius · 2 years

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"One for Yes

Two for No

Three for Are you alright?

Four for I am here, I am with you

Five for This is real, you are awake"

- Throne of Glass, Kingdom of Ash ❤🔥⚔

(Sarah J. Maas)

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therealmissmagoo2 · 3 months

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Lysandra Ennar - Lady of Caraverre - Throne of Glass Series by Sarah J. Maas.

Tray Files Skin Mole Nose Preset 4f Lip Preset Teeth Vampire 4 Fangs Hair Base Hair Extras Hair 1 (Sims Resource) Hair 2 (Sims4Finds) Hair 3 Eyes Eyelash Remover Eyelashes Eyebrows Engan

Look 1: Outfit Eyes 25 Claws Look 2: Dress Shoes Lipstick Contour Eyeliner Nails Look 3: Dress Shoes Lipstick Eyeshadow Apple Eyeliner Lioness Nails

DM me for 🔒

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sam-is-an-angel222 · 3 months

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i don’t exactly remember the quote from kingdom of ash, but i’m rereading acotar and the theory that tamlin is a descendant of aedion and lysandra makes a lot of sense

while tamlin is fighting amarantha, she sends a dark wave of magic at him (valg anyone?? plus her dark/black eyes?? that’s a post for another day i think) and anyway

feyre is dead at this point, so she’s watching it all go down from rhys’s perspective

and amaranthas magic can’t touch him bc of a “golden shield surrounding tamlin” or something like that (i don’t have the book on me rn)

yk what that reminds me of??

gavriel.

again, i don’t have the books on me rn, but i’m 99% sure that gavriel is surrounded in a golden shield at one point in time when fighting the valg

so yeah. that’s pretty cool i think

#sjm #acotar #throne of glass #hofas #tog #sjm multiverse #feyre archeron #sarah j maas #sjm theories #crescent city #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin #bryce #aedion #tamlin #gavriel

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autumnbabylon · 11 months

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Love that my boy Aedion is getting love

#aedion ashryver #aedion #throne of glass #kingdom of ash #tog

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crunchywarrior · 2 years

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Rowan, walking into their house: Hello, people who do not live here. Lorcan: Hey. Lysandra: Hi. Fenrys: Hello. Dorian: Hey! Rowan: I gave you the key to my place for emergencies only! Aedion: We were out of Doritos.

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alice-bad-thoughts · 7 months

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I’ve just watched Pocahontas and... Fuck. John Smith and Aedion Ashryver is either the same character or have the same energy. Try to change my mind.

Art by: Morgana0anagrom, Merwild, ilreleonewikia13

#aedion ashryver #throne of glass #pocahontas #aedion #john smith

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fictionalmanswhore · 2 years

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So on one hand we have Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius, formerly Celaena Sardothien, Adarlan's Assassin, the king's champion, Lillian Gordaina, Elentiya, Witch Killer, fireheart, fire-bringer, light-bringer, Aelin of the wildfire, heir of fire, heir of Branon and Mala, the queen who was promised, the queen who walked between worlds, the faerie queen of the west, the gods killer, queen of terrasen, and fire-breathing-bitch queen, and on the other hand we have...rhysand

#aelin #rowan #aedion #lysandra #fenrys #lorcan #gavriel #chaol #dorian #manon #elide #asterin #rhysand #feyre #cassian #morrigan #azriel #amren #nesta #elain

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pitterpatterpot · 8 months

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Prompt: at a party (or at a club) music is playing. Suddenly a song starts playing and Aedion and Aelin rush to each other and start performing a dance routine from when they were kids while singing the lyrics at the top of their lungs in the middle of the dance floor cuz it’s their bop

Ok I’m trying to go through as many as possible right now!

~~~

The new year celebration is always a blast for their family. Drinks flowing, food piled on the tables, people coming from far and wide - it’s a pleasant change after they finish all the ceremonial duties earlier in the day. Bards fill the castle halls, playing as many tunes as possible.

Fenrys, Gavriel and Kyllian cackle in a corner, arms sling around each other, singing merrily at the top of their lungs. The lyrics are in no way right, but filled with joy. Near them, Lorcan dances with Elide, the two following a beat that doesn’t exist as they follow each others rhythm. Vaughan gestures vehemently in a discussion with Evangeline, the two likely arguing over a sport as dual. Aedion and Lysandra scour the food tables, the shifter hungry from flying decorations around all day and Aedion just delighted at the desserts. Aelin and Rowan stand by the drinks, the king and queen laughing in delight.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the lead bard calls, gaining the halls attention, “and males and females and those who are both and neither, it is our pleasure to introduce you into the new year! Cheers!”

A loud cry follows the intro, everyone raising a glass and more than a few people nearly spilling their drinks.

“We’re going to play an old favourite now,” the bard grins, the others swelling up behind him. “Many of you may remember this from when we were tykes, so sing along if you know it!”

A tune starts, a jovial song filling the hall.

“Oh, let the cups run full by the days end!”

Aelin perks up.

“And we’ll stumble home around the bend!”

She meets Aedion’s eyes from across the hall. He grins.

“So grab your lassies and grab your lads-“

They sprint towards each other, meeting in the middle of the hall. They clasp hands, then link arms, and grin as the pipes and violins start up.

“And get ready to send the spirits away! Hey! Hey! Get ready to send the spirits away! Hey! Hey!-“

The two spin around each other, the moves kicking in from muscle memory as they spin away from each other and back again. Aelin twirls under Aedion’s arm, her cousin lifting her slightly for the next turn, everyone cheering as they quickly jump and kick their feet to the tempo.

They both laugh, delighted, suddenly five and ten again. Learning the dance by watching others, coming out onto the dance floor after stuffing their mouths with cakes they sneaked away during whatever party they were forced to attend. When first learning, Aelin had stood on Aedion’s feet as he messed up the steps.

Now? Now, they blaze through the room.

“Let’s take a turn again and bless the spirits away, hey, hey!”

As the song reaches its height they abandoned the steps, simply spinning around wildly, flames and sparks flying from Aelin as they cackle in delight.

They finish the song with a bang, Aelin sending a plume of blue fire into the air. Everyone cheers, the two cousins - or siblings - panting and alight with joy. Lysandra and Rowan run towards them, sweeping and being swept off their feet as they reach their partners.

“Since when did the two of you practice that?” Lysandra asks, pressing a kiss to Aedion’s cheek.

“Well, you know,” Aelin grins, sending Aedion a smile, “we have our secrets.”

#tog #throne of glass #aelin ashryver galathynius #Aedion #the cadre #cousins #but let’s be honest they’re siblings

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shallyne · 9 months

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SJM Crackshipmonth: Childhood Friends to Lovers

See you Again

It's day ten of @sjmcrackshipmonth and we have Feyre x Aedion today!

Words: 923

TW: none

Feyre works on an art project in a Café when she meets an old friend again.

Feyre was sketching out different ideas for her art project, so in thought that she didn't hear the doors of the Café anymore. She found a seat in a secluded corner where she was mostly at peace and could think, while getting her daily dose of caffeine and cheesecake. She worked on a rough sketch when the doors opened again, drawing three sister mountain peaks that she often dreamt about, contemplating if this was enough for her next project or if she should do something that was easier to explain. Feyre was so in thought that she hadn't realized that someone recognized her and she clearly didn't hear the footsteps until the person halted at her table. "Feyre?"

Surprised, her head shot up and she locked eyes with Aedion Ashryver. If it wouldn't be the mistakenly turquoise - gold eyes of the Ashryver family, it would have taken Feyre a moment to recognize him. His golden hair was now shoulder length, his shoulders broad and he was at least six feet tall. Feyre wasn't surprised to see how he changed of course, they last saw each other when they were children, but she was surprised to see him again at all. Although his features now looked sharp instead instead of round, he still had that mischievous look. "Aedion!" she said, smiling brightly. She was genuinely happy to see him. "Is someone with you? Do you want to take a seat?" she pointed to the empty seat opposite of her.

In one fluid movement, Aedion slipped into the chair. "No one is with me today." he answered, "I'd love to sit with you."

She nodded, putting her pencil down and closing her notebook. A look at Aedion told her that not only won the genetic lottery, appearance wise, but he was also definitely training, she realized that as her eyes trailed down his muscular arms. She shook any inappropriate thoughts off and said, "What are you doing in Velaris?"

Aedion played with the lid of his coffee cup, looking out of the window for a few moments before he answered, "A…an acquaintance of my cousin went here once and enjoyed it. I just needed to get out of the city for a day and remembered this place, I thought why not and drove down here." he explained. "I'm more surprised to see you in Velaris, so far north."

Feyre smiled and dipped her head, "I'm here for college. I got a scholarship for the College of Arts in the Rainbow." she tapped on her notebook. "I'm working on a project right now."

Aedion smiled as bright as the sun, "You really made painting your future, I'm proud of you." he said. "I heard it's really hard to get into the college of arts here."

Feyre blushed at his compliment, hiding her hands under the table as she nervously played with a loose thread in her sweater. "Thank you." she said quietly, barely audible over the noise of the Café. "It is hard to get into the college and it was really hard work but you know how stubborn I can be when I want something."

Aedion chuckled, leaning back in his chair. Feyre was sure that he recalled the time where she didn't talk to him for two weeks because he told her she couldn't do it.

"Well how do you fare?" Feyre asked, "Do you still live in Orynth?"

"I do!" Aedion replied, nodding. "I'm still living with Roe and Evalin. It's a short walk to my college so it made the most sense, but I'm thinking about moving after graduation. At least for a year."

Feyre listened intently to him, his voice still soothed her like it did all these years ago. "Do you have any idea where you want to go after graduation?"

Aedion slightly tilted his head as he gnawed on his bottom lip. "I was thinking about Pangera maybe." he said absentmindedly. "But I'm also playing with the idea to move to Adriata."

Feyre gasped excitedly, instantly covering her hands with her mouth. But she couldn't keep the grin from spreading, "Really?" she asked, enthusiastically. "I'm going to Adriata the summer after graduation!"

"No!" Aedion grinned, leaning forward, over the table. Feyre mirrored the movement. "That's a crazy coincidence."

"I think it's fate giving you a sign." Feyre whispered conspiratorially. Both their hands rested on the table, only a hair's breadth away from touching.

"You think so?" Aedion whispered back, smirking. "I wouldn't want you to think I'm following you. I wouldn't want you to regret having me close."

Feyre moved her hand slightly, so that their fingers barely touched. "I wouldn't regret it." she said.

Aedion opened his mouth but then his phone started vibrating. He looked unsure as his eyes wandered down, then back to Feyre. She leaned back, "It's okay, take a look."

Relieved he picked up his phone, his eyes wandering across the screen and then he scrunched his eyebrows in worry, letting out a soft curse. "I'm sorry, Feyre, I need to pick up my cousin and her friend."

"It's fine." she promised with a smile, waving a hand.

"I–" he cleared his throat. "I'd like to see you again. Would you like to meet on Friday? You could give me your number and I'd text you the specifics later." Feyre nodded and took his phone, typing in her number and handing it back. "Great, it's a date?"

Feyre's smile widened. "It's a date, Aedion."

He gave her one last, breathtaking smile before he vanished.