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leiawritesstories · 1 year

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Fire In The Night

did a little thing for Aelin Week (finally lol) @rowaelinscourt

Day 7: Aelin and her fire

This is a small scene from a certain something that will hopefully be coming to you soon :)

Until Proven Guilty masterpost

Enjoy!!!

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

From the rooftop of her building, Aelin could see all of Orynth, the sprawling metropolis glistening with the crystals of the city lights. She leaned against the glass half-wall encircling the perimeter of the rooftop, flirting with danger like she was so fond of doing, feeling the evening breeze stir her loose hair. Her wineglass dangled between her fingers, her hold on its delicate glass stem the only thing keeping it from tumbling hundreds of feet to the ground and crashing into a million fragments. She took a long sip, rolling the rich red liquid around on her tongue to luxuriate in the flavor–a symphony of dark cherry, oak, and just a trace of violet as the wine went down.

The perfect accompaniment to tonight’s…viewing.

In her head, she counted down the minutes, then the seconds. Twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, seven…. Her anticipation built by the second, her heart rate unable to control its excitement. Settle down, she warned herself. No use celebrating too early.

Boom.

Right on time, an explosion. A cloud of thick black smoke billowed up a few miles away at the far end of the shipping district–the Wilkins lot, if she wasn’t mistaken. Blazing tongues of flame followed right on the heels of the smoke cloud, the fire rapidly catching onto the nearby containers and setting them ablaze. The fire only grew, though contained within its boundaries; it took only a minute or two before the mini inferno had devoured what looked to be the entire Wilkins lot and one or two lots nearby, its flames painting the night in flickers of orange and scarlet.

Aelin took another pull of her wine and drank in the sight of the raging blaze, a small smirk curling the corner of her lips as she heard the sirens screaming toward the scene of the fire. Not that the fire department would find anything worth saving.

She’d seen to that.

She remained at the edge of the rooftop until her wine was gone and the fire in the shipping district had been tamed, reduced to curling plumes of smoke drifting away into the January night. The decadent alcohol left a lingering trace of smoke and embers in her mouth, which only made her smirk grow. She knew she’d picked the right wine. Then she stood up and turned away from the cityscape, satisfied with a job well done. Regarding the empty wineglass in her hand, she tilted her head, thinking for a moment.

Then she lazily draped her arm over the balcony wall and let her fingers go limp.

The wineglass plummeted down, down, down through the silent winter night and landed with a crash on the frozen cement sidewalk, splintering into a thousand crystal shards. Curiously, though, glass wasn’t the only thing that rose up as the wineglass crashed into the pavement. No, there was something else, visible only for barely half a second–not even enough time to believe it really happened.

As Aelin’s wineglass shattered against the sidewalk, a small plume of smoke curled up from the impact point, disappearing a blink after it appeared. Almost as if the wineglass hadn’t just broken, but exploded.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@sunshinebingo

@hiimheresworld

#my writing #aelin week #aelinweek #aelin week 2023 #aelin galathynius #aelin ashryver galathynius #until proven guilty #little snippet sneak peek thingy #tw:fire #bad bitch aelin #badass aelin

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ninelivesart · 7 months

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I’m having a bit of an artist dilemma and I’m hoping someone might be able to help.

Every year my work does a pumpkin decorating contest (painted, not carved). And the prompt is always “Favorite book character.”

This year I thought it would be fun to do all the main SJM girls. I also bought a pack of acrylic paint pens just for my pumpkin.

However, I usually work digitally and wanted to draw up my designs digitally just to play it safe. Since you can’t really sketch on a pumpkin.

Now I’m stuck trying to figure out how to get the designs onto the pumpkin. Nothing I’ve tried so far has worked. I tried to decoupage the images but they just peeled right off. I then downloaded a paid app that’s supposed to superimpose your images over the camera. Great in theory. Didn’t work out for this particular project.

And now I’m back at square one. I considered the old pencil tracing technique but the designs are just too detailed and I know it won’t come out visible enough to be worth the effort.

The only other thing I’ve thought of is a projector. But since I have no plans to use it for tv, I don’t know what to look for. I still want something relatively affordable. But I’m not looking for something to project big images. The pumpkin is fairly small even for a pumpkin. I know I’ll probably use it for canvases. But I still don’t want to shell out the money for something unless I’m sure it’ll do what I want it to do. And we don’t really have a store here that I can go browse and talk to people.

Also I did consider a home made projector but to get it to do what I need, I’d have to buy so many supplies that I may as well just buy a real one.

So that’s where I’m at. I had this issue last year too and i ended up giving up just because nothing worked out. I’m hoping I can get at least one of these ladies on my pumpkin this year.

If you have any ideas or know of a good projector I can buy, I’d be really grateful.

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moodymelanist · 2 days

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Wrong Delivery Part Two

hello and happy free day of @nestaarcheronweek !! It’s been such a blast organizing this and seeing all the amazing things everyone has created, and thank you so much to everyone who participated!!

without further ado… the long awaited part two of this fic from Nessian Week 2023. I hope you enjoy 🩵🩵🩵

Summary: Cassian returns Nesta’s package. Chaos and embarrassment ensue.

Word Count: 1.8k

✷✷✷✷✷

Cassian

When Nesta’s package had been accidentally delivered to his address instead of hers, Cassian could hardly believe his luck.

Nesta Archeron was easily the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen, and now he had a real excuse to talk to her for longer than fifteen seconds. He’d taken any and all excuses to talk to her over the eight months that he’d been living here, though their interactions had mostly been quick greetings that ended with her rolling her eyes at him.

Though in his book, that was definitely a win.

Cassian had been enjoying his Friday off — his favorite part about being able to set his own schedule as a personal trainer — when someone knocked at the door. Frowning as he got up, he made his way over and looked through the peephole to see a guy dressed in a UPS uniform walking away. He hadn’t been expecting any packages, but that didn’t stop him from opening the door to see a tiny black box waiting for him.

He bent down and picked it up before heading back inside, shutting the door behind him as he tried to remember the last thing he’d ordered. Maybe one of his friends had sent him something — Mor loved sending them all little gifts whenever she went on vacation — but she usually texted their group chat when she sent packages over. Maybe it was something for Azriel instead…?

Keep reading on AO3 here!

#nestaweek2024 #Nessian #acotar #acosf #nesta archeron #Cassian #pro nessian #pro nesta archeron #pro cassian #moodymelanistwrites #Nessian prompts

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bubybubsters · 10 months

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Requests are OPEN. I write for SJM universes and Harry Potter and I’m willing to try any others unless I haven’t read/watched it. Please leave comments and enjoy! My AO3

Taglist

Personal fav: 💞

Angst: ❤️‍🔥

Fluff: 🔅

ACOTAR

Azriel

Love of My Life Part 2 Part 3 ❤️‍🔥

The Best Friend ❤️‍🔥

3 Shadow Boys 🔅 (ft. Xaden and Ruhn)

Home Late ❤️‍🔥🔅

Eris

Eris Week 2023 masterlist

Insecurities ❤️‍🔥🔅

Share 🔅

Lucien

Left behind Part 2 Part 3 epilogue ❤️‍🔥🔅

Cassian

Cassian meets Aelin 🔅💞

Rhysand

Love you too 🔅

Azris

A Distressing Solstice ❤️‍🔥🔅(acotar gift exchange)

Poly

Unplanned (Batboys & Eris x reader)🔅

A New Beginning (Platonic IC)❤️‍🔥🔅

Impossible prologue one two three (Azris x reader)❤️‍🔥

Mother Hens (Batboys x reader)🔅🔅

Not sure who to pair with

Assistant ❤️‍🔥

Fourth Wing

Xaden

Book Boyfriends 🔅💞

3 Shadow Boys 🔅

Liam

A tribute ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Harry Potter & Company

Theodore Nott

Stuck Together 🔅💞

Remus Lupin

7 years In Love ❤️‍🔥🔅

Random Shit

In The Spirit (Halloween themed ish)

thank you to @saradika-graphics for dividers!

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writtenonreceipts · 8 months

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Rowaelin Month Day One: Song Fic @rowaelinscourt

Back by no one’s demands but my own: a part two and conclusion to “Annie” the song fic I wrote for last year. This one does end happier, I pinky promise. Inspired by Mat Kearney’s song “New York to California.” If you’ve been around for a while, you know Mat is one of those artists that I adore and his music means so much to me. I also just really wanted to conclude “Annie” and NYtCA just hits different…anyways, I hope you enjoy? You technically don’t need to read Annie if you don’t want to.

Rowaelin Month 2023 Masterlist Main Masterlist Annie—Part One

Warnings: she’s a touch angsty, nothing worse than how I usually go. ~3k words

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

New York to California

Before

She doesn’t know if it’s late or early when sleep takes her. For weeks now she’s been trapped behind a gray haze. It falls over her mind and tries to convince her that nothing really matters anymore. It’s far too easy to fall victim to that mindset, and usually she does better at chasing the demons away. Usually it’s easier.

So as she drifts off, she’s just glad for a taste of some relief from the day. It’s been hard lately, too hard. And she doesn’t know how she’ll break free from it.

Maybe, for that reason alone, it’s better that she falls asleep. It can be the reprieve from her foster father and the ways the world has a way of crashing down around her.

The problem is, she forgets how easily the dreams find her. They invade this quiet space she’s tried to carve out for herself so easily that sometimes she doubts her sanity. Because the dreams are full of shadows and screams, pain and panic. She wants to escape them. More than anything if she could fade away into the gray haze of dawn and linger there—she would.

She’s in the middle of one of those terrors when a gentle hand glides down her cheek and she can hear his voice calling to her.

Fireheart. Fireheart.

When her eyes open it’s to find him staring down at her, green eyes flickering with the light of the TV, his hoodie drenched with rain. She can see the worry reflecting in his eyes as he brings his hand back to her cheek. His thumb runs in soothing circles along her skin.

“I had one of those dreams again,” she whispers. She doesn’t want to admit it, doesn’t want to cause him more pain. But it’s Rowan. And he’s always been a part of her. “I thought I lost you.”

“It’s alright,” he says, easing onto the couch beside her. “Everything’s alright, I’m here.”

Aelin knows she shouldn’t, but she snuggles into his side nonetheless. He smells like pine and rain and earth and it’s the most comforting thing she can imagine. So she leans into him and wraps her arms tight around him so he won’t disappear on her again.

She knows they shouldn’t do this. Knows he shouldn’t even be here. If Arobynn finds out Rowan showed up at the house Aelin knows there will be hell to pay. The only thing that gives her hope is that her foster father is gone on a work trip. He won’t be back until Thursday. But Aelin lives in a constant state of fear as her mind lingers on the “what-ifs” of it all.

“It’s alright, baby,” Rowan says. He presses his lips into her forehead and pulls the fleece blanket over them. “I’m right here with you.”

She lets his words wash over her and soothe her own worries. He’s never steered her wrong before, never left her unless he had to. And even than he lingers still. Because that Rowan, her Rowan, can temper any storm raging in her mind.

As he holds her close, she can make out the scent of cheap beer and cigarettes. She knows he was singing at the bar again tonight, trying to earn some cash for the two of them to finally breakaway from this damned town.

“Don’t leave,” she says, slurred with sleep and exhaustion. His warmth is all she needs to drift back off to sleep, missing what he whispers to her next.

…

After

The coffee shop is the same as it always is: loud and hot.

No matter when Aelin comes, there is always line out the door and every table is occupied by no one that actually has to be there. She has decided it is a ruse designed by society in general to make coffee shops more appealing. Supposedly they can offer you a sense of peace and comfort and delude you into thinking that you’re right where you belong—mixed up in a mess of people just as desperate for connection as you.

So yes, the coffee shop is always full. Single patrons take up tables for just themselves and their selfies and little cookies that they won’t actually eat. And straw liners are somehow strewn about the floor even though straws have been banned in the city for almost a year now. And somehow the heater is always going even in the middle of summer but no one ever comments because it is a coffee shop so therefore everything is perfect.

But it’s not. Everything is so far from perfect that Aelin has more than once found herself stumbling through life. She’s lost in a world that has passed her by all because her foster father beat her down. All because she stayed behind and let the one good thing in her life leave.

She doesn’t blame him, of course. She can’t. He was always too good for this place anyways. He always had a way about him that said he wouldn’t step back from a fight.

It’s what she loves most about him.

Because of course she still loves him.

Rowan Whitethorn was, and still is, the best thing to ever happen to her. From the time they were kinds to the inevitable night that finally pulled them apart—Rowan had been all she ever needed.

He left the city the second he could after his music managed to get him free. He’d tried to take her with him, tried to say that he’d take care of her and that everything would be alright with just the two of them.

But Aelin knew then that it wasn’t that simple. It never would be.

Except now, Arobynn is dead. Dead and no longer tormenting her daily. Instead, he’s just another terror in her dreams.

They’ve gotten better though, the nightmares. They don’t come every night and even when they do, it’s easier to chase them away now. Because she’s free.

And sometimes, if she’s lucky, Rowan will be there. He’s always had a way of climbing into her dreams and staying right where he’s needed. Even though he’s not physically here he’s still the greatest source of comfort to her.

She tries to shake the thoughts of him away. They won’t do her any good. No matter how badly she wishes they could, that he was there with her. Instead, any and all thoughts of him haunt her and remind her of what could have been.

So she opens her laptop, navigating to the article she’s supposed to be editing.

Somewhere along the way, she managed to pave a small road for herself. She was even the lead editor on this new addition of Kingsflame, an up and coming magazine. It took her a while to find her way here, to find something she liked and was just for her. But she was good at writing, she was good at picking up on details, she was good and weaving a story together.

Just not her own.

Aelin works for a little, trying to give all her attention to the document. The intern that wrote it is promising and Aelin wants to make sure to nourish a love of writing for her. Aelin knows first hand what just a taste of approval can do for someone and she wants the girl to grow in her love of words. Writing is what saved Aelin herself after all.

Sitting back in her seat, Aelin sighs and sips at her coffee. It’s something dark and bitter—not at all what she usually likes. She prefers sweet and sugar and all the extra bits but the poor barista behind the counter looked one pumpkin spiced latte away from quitting so Aelin got a simple black coffee. She added extra packets of sugar herself.

It’s disgusting.

But she has to admit the caffeine is definitely going straight to her brain.

She takes another long sip when it happens. The song on the radio changes and she hears a voice that has only been a part of her dreams. It’s low with the barest hint of his accent. He’s accompanied by a piano which is different—he’s always preferred the guitar, saying that he’ll leave the piano to her.

Only…she never got the chance to play with him.

And now he’s singing a ballad of love and hope over the speakers of her coffee shop. And no one notices. And no one realizes what it means to hear him now.

He’d always promised he’d find his way back to her. She just thought it was going to be different.

…

Before

There’s a storm billowing through the trees and lashing the windows with rain. The gray sky is endless as it grows darker with each passing second. This isn’t any regular storm. It’s been raging on for over an hour now, bringing in a few rounds of thunder and lightning with it.

Aelin finds she doesn’t mind it. Not at all.

Because beside her on the couch is Rowan. He has an arm wrapped around her as he drifts in and out of sleep. It’s been a long day of sneaking about, hiding, and worrying. Now, they just have an hour. One hour of just the two of them before she has to go back home.

“I miss you,” Rowan says, quiet.

Aelin isn’t sure she’s heard him properly. Or maybe he’s talking in his sleep, he does that sometimes. She runs her fingers through his hair, brushing the silvery locks back from his forehead.

“What did you say?”

Rowan twists, his chin resting on her stomach. Green eyes stare up at her, dark with longing.

“I miss you,” he repeats, just as quiet.

“I’m right here,” she says. She doesn’t stop running her fingers through his hair, can’t stop more like it. It’s grown longer recently and she loves it.

He doesn’t say anything. All he does is watch her. A flash of lightning snaps from outside illuminates his face, turning the shadows beneath his eyes lighter for once. They’re just kids but it feels like they’ve fought wars already.

Tightening his hold on her, Rowan lets out a small sigh.

“I know,” he says, “but it never feels close enough, does it?”

“You’re just talking,” she says with a low chuckle. Sometimes, words take on more meaning. Sometimes, words mean more than they usually do. And sometimes words are promises that bind you to more than a moment.

He grunts. “No I’m not.”

Her heart thuds at his words, at the feel of him as he sits up slowly, still pressed close to her; only now they’re chest to chest. He’s so much bigger than Aelin that his frame practically engulfs her. His broad chest and thick arms are enough to keep her from fidgeting too much though. Because where else would she rather be?

“No matter what happen, I’ll be here, you know?” he says. It’s the closest they’ve gotten to talking about the Arobynn situation and how Aelin can’t leave. No matter what hopes and dreams she might have and share with Rowan.

She’s trapped.

“Rowan,” Aelin begins, she can’t let him say things he doesn’t mean or make promises he can’t keep.

“I’ll never be far enough away that I can’t find you again,” he says. One finger curls beneath her chin, causing her to look up. “I’d crawl back to you if I had to.”

“I guess I could get used to you being on your knees for me,” she replies. She wants to ease the moment, to find some levity that doesn’t make her feel like her heart is about be cut open and left to bleed out.

Rowan leans forward until his nose touches hers, until they’re so close that it would be so easy, so easy, to kiss him. To taste him. To have a small part of him that she’s wanted for so long.

“Only for you, Fireheart.”

…

After

California bleeds neon lights and smoke on the horizon.

At first, Aelin can only stare at the skyline and bustling streets and the myriad of people passing by like they’ve got all the time in the world. At first, Aelin can only breathe in the smog that coats the air like a second skin and the underlying musk of sea water.

She flew into Los Angeles on nothing but a whim and her last paycheck. Elide told her not to go. Aedion insisted she at least wait for him to come with her. Lysandra gave her an extra hundred dollars for an emergency.

Now, she’s wandering the old boardwalks by the ocean, watching waves crash and crowds swarm various popular spots. She doesn’t know where she is exactly. All she knows is that she’s nowhere near Hollywood or all the fancy places that she’d always imagined California to have. But that’s alright. She’s always found her way in the unknown and unpredictable. Even if it has been hell.

It's getting late and all she has guiding her is an old news letter she found online. There’s supposed to be an old grunge bar around here along the downtown scene. A place that supports those small artists with dreams bigger than reality.

The late fall light fades into the horizon, bringing a chill to the air. Aelin hadn’t expected it—cool air and gentle breezes. But she doesn’t mind it. She’s full or energy and worry, which may as well be a good thing as the combination has kept her from spiraling out of control.

When she enters the bar she already things she’s in the wrong place. The low lights and heady scent of cigarettes is enough to tell her so. But she pays a cover fee for the musicians playing and works her way to the front.

A part of her mind screams that she should have gotten here sooner, that it’s nearing the final acts and she’s missed her opportunity. Another part of her is convinced that she shouldn’t even be here to begin with. Afterall, it’s been five years.

But Aelin knows she would wait for any length of time; she’d always find a way back to his side. She got out of her own nightmares even if it did take her years. Maybe she should have called. She even has his number and has listened to every voicemail he’s left on repeat as if its her own lullaby for the darkest nights.

It takes some effort, but Aelin makes it closer to the stage. She’s still two rows back, but it’s close enough, she thinks.

On stage a woman finishes a ballad with her guitar. The music’s simple and her scratchy voice doesn’t hold the song together—at least in Aelin’s opinion, but she’s so far detached from this world, maybe she doesn’t know anything.

As the woman exits, a young college kid steps up to the microphone. His hair falls in his face and he’s trying to layer flannel and an old-style t-shirt that doesn’t quite work for him.

“Next up we’ve got our regular,” the kid announces, already pulling away to make room for the final act. “Rowan Whitethorn.”

All around Aelin, the audience erupts into cheers. They’ve all come for him, she realizes. All eagerly awaiting the one person Aelin’s been waiting her entire life for. She wants to cheer, wants to clap, wants to do anything but stand there and stare. She can’t.

Because walking across the stage to the electric piano set up in the corner is Rowan. Rowan with his hair too long. Rowan with an unlit cigarette behind one ear. Rowan with his da’s guitar case by his side, even now. Rowan with tan skin and tattoos reflecting in the pale light of the bar. Her Rowan that she’s loved for longer than she can say.

He doesn’t look up as he adjusts the settings of the piano and strikes a few keys. He messes with the microphone next, making sure it’s lined up the way he likes it.

When he does look up, it’s as though he’s always expected to find her there. It doesn’t take long at all for their gazes to meet, for his green eyes to burn under the yellow bar lights. His lips part in silent surprise and Aelin feels her skin heat when he cocks his head to one side before finally, a small smile kicks up one corner of his mouth.

He leans in to the microphone—eyes never leaving hers.

“Fireheart,” he says. “I promised we’d find each other again.”

…

After

She’s lost again.

But not in the way she once was.

Because instead of being surrounded by her nightmares, she’s tangled up in strong arms that haven’t let her go in hours. She’s lost in him like never before.

She doesn’t mind of course. Because she’s lost in him this time. Skin to skin, soul to soul. And there’s no place she’d rather be.

Aelin sighs and burrows in closer to his side. He smells of pine and snow just like always. It’s better than her memories, being so close to him. Better than anything she could have hoped for. She never thought it would come to this.

For so long she’d wandered through her life trying like hell to find her ways. Too often it felt like she was drowning, scrambling for air, for salvation.

And then she’d met Rowan.

She doesn’t blame him for leaving. She told him as much when he tried to apologized. Silenced him with her kisses, in fact.

Somehow they made it back to his apartment—small and tucked above a Thai restaurant. It didn’t take them long to rediscover each other. For Rowan to find the new scars along her back, for Aelin to learn the paths of his new tattoos. It didn’t take long at all to fall together into bed and spend the night whispering promises into the neon lights that filtered through the bedroom drapes.

“Fireheart,” Rowan whispers, his soft voice enough to pull Aelin from her thoughts.

She looks up into his eyes, already smiling. “Buzzard.”

Rolling his eyes, Rowan runs a hand up her bare side, the calluses on his fingers catching her skin. It’s enough to cause her to shiver which lights a new fire in Rowan’s gaze.

Whatever he was going to say is lost as he leans in and kisses her. She reacts instantly, not that she can help it. Everything about Rowan draws her in. His mouth is insistent and teasing and his hands leave hot trails against her skin as he pulls her on top of him.

It’s only when they’re both gasping for air that they break apart. Rowan brushes Aelin’s hair from her face, his large hand running across her cheek.

“What are you doing to me?” he asks.

Their next kiss is slow and languid and sends sparks shooting through Aelin’s entire body.

They don’t speak again until morning when dawn breaks and scatters sunshine across the bed. But when they wake it’s with the knowledge that never again are they going to come apart. They’ll be together across every mile, side-by-side.

end.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

taglist is a joke will reblog soon

#rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth23 #song fic #writtenwrites #fanfic #throne of glass #tog #mat kearney song

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sarahjswift · 11 months

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A Terrible Day - Rowaelin Oneshot

I'm trying to expand my writing resume on this app, because all the wonderful creators I follow have these insanely long masterlists with links that lead to more links that lead to more links and it's everything I want to be XD

I wrote this in a frenzy of two hours, including breaks for running and to gulp down some iced tea and eat a slice of cheesecake :D

If you go to my masterlist(https://docs.google.com/document/d/1rNsQz959dwBibJ4ydmb6_0fixjSEBXBiVRKVoyd-tQ0/edit), you will see the fics I wrote for the 2023 Aelin Week. Most, if not all of my fics are in AUs but I thought I'd switch it up with a "what happened next" kind of fic, which is what I did for Aelin Week. Not saying I liked it more than my other AUs, but it was just cozy to write you know? ☺☺

If you'd like me to do more of these, let me know! It's a Oneshot for now but we'll see, I could just do short stories of their adventures inbetween my current projects!

This is the most NSFW thing I've ever written and I felt so guilty doing it - I kept glancing around like I had a bomb or something LMAO. It's not even that bad I don't think, but I COULDN'T DO IT *sobs*

How do you fanfic writers do it???

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Language, Smut

Summary: Aelin has a bad day and sweet sweet Rowan cheers her up (mostly just fluff)

Tag List <33: @backtobl4ck, @aelinchocolatelover, @renxzs, @blue-bird17, @autumnbabylon, and @luell1q

enjoy dear readers!!

Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius had had a terrible day.

Not like her usual bad days - where Fleetfoot had rubbed mud all over a new dress, or the bakery in Terrasen Square was closed (although she shuddered whenever she thought of those days) - but bad in the sense that she felt her chest constricting. Darrow hadn’t budged on the topic of Aelin’s passion project - a community garden for the citizens of Terrasen. A trivial want, yes, but it was close to Aelin’s heart.

However, as Darrow had made extremely clear at their meeting; “A community garden is a complete waste of resources. We need to focus on rebuilding Terrasen before we have the time to worry about meaningless projects such as that.”

Now Aelin was trudging down the hallway, melancholic. At least it’s the end of the week, she thought glumly. She had no more meetings, nothing to work on for the next three days.

The queen reached her private corridor. Here lay her bedroom, personal library, and office(well, one of many). Aelin often felt guilt over the luxuries that she indulged here, but she couldn't help wanting to live in this area of the castle - her parents had as well, and she could sometimes hear the pitter-patter of her feet running down the hall, her giggles as she raced her father. Remembering these moments was a happy thing, but today it just made her more depressed.

Two guards monitored this corridor - Beor and Alys. Beor was a kind, shy man, and the only time he ever talked was to rave about his wife and two young daughters. Alys was a fierce woman who had clearly been through unimaginable things, which only became more apparent from the vicious scar slashed down the side of her face. She was strong and reminded Aelin of Nesryn. Aelin liked the two guards greatly, but she pitied them occasionally when she was reminded of what…sounds they were witness to, as they were stationed outside her bedroom door during the night. The morning after her birthday, Beor could barely look her in the eye without going beet red.

Aelin nodded to them as she passed. “Majesty,” they both murmured, bowing briefly. She flashed them a quick smile, all she could muster, before retreating into her bedroom. She faced the door, locked it behind her, and burst into tears.

All the stress from the day caught up to her - Darrow, missing her parents, the strain of the crown. She slid to the floor, not even bothering to turn around as she cried, hugging herself. She prayed Alys and Beor couldn’t hear her, not as-

“Aelin?”

She froze when she heard that deep voice say her name. “Shit.” She knew who it was instantly, but turned around still to find her husband and mate, Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius. He stood there, his face full of concern for his wife, and the sight of it made Aelin sob harder.

“Hey, hey,” Rowan soothed, advancing toward her in a split second. He held her close, sitting there on the floor with her, and Aelin turned fully toward him, clutching his shirt, crying into his neck. He was so strong, so steady that Aelin felt like she’d been drowning and now she’d found a lifevest.

Rowan stroked her hair and rubbed her back simultaneously, patiently waiting as she cried it out. Finally, she scooted back, sniffling. “Oh, Gods, I’m so sorry.” Aelin couldn’t meet his eye as she wiped her cheeks, focusing on the floor. She probably looked like a mess.

“Aelin.” He tilted her face up, piercing green eyes scanning her face. She only realized now he was tense, jaw clenched, filled with a mix of concern and anger that somebody had hurt her, something only a mate could feel. “What happened?”

“I’m fine, first of all,” she sighed. She smiled as he slumped with relief, but it faded as she recounted her day. “Darrow…Darrow is still very against the garden idea. I don’t know, maybe it’s stupid. He sure thinks it is.”

“Wait, why is he against the garden?” Rowan frowned. “I love the idea.”

Aelin arched a brow. “I think you’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not!” her mate protested. “It’s a great idea, Aelin. Darrow might not see it, but it could help those who were affected - ah, hell, let’s be frank. I think every being in the world has at least some trauma, and I really think the garden could help them. It could help them build something, trust in something.”

“Well, thank you, buzzard. That’s the idea, but it’s too silly to spend money on.” Aelin leaned back into her husband, who immediately encircled his arms around her. She ran her fingers down his muscled arms, pressing down slightly. She snickered as she felt him flex underneath her fingertips. “We need the money to be put toward the library, and just getting our bearings after the war.”

“I thought we were well off.”

“We are - our coffers run extremely deep. I don’t think we will have to worry about money ever again, thank Gods. But that’s us. Our money is different from Terrasen’s money.”

“Hmm.” Aelin could almost feel Rowan frowning, thinking of something to help her problem. The thought warmed her heart and she tilted her head up, observing him. He is so beautiful, she thought. His bronze skin was smooth, his lashes long, his bone structure immaculate. But of course, she was drawn to his eyes. It was always his pine green eyes. They would always, always be her favorite asset of his. She ran her fingers lightly over his face, tracing it to memory like she’d done hundreds of times, like she’d do many more times.

“Aelin,” he breathed. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his. He opened up to her and she kissed him deeply, threading her fingers through his hair to tug him to her. She felt his warm hands slip up her shirt and she broke the kiss, biting her lip as she watched him. Rowan leaned in and kissed down her neck. She gasped as she felt his tongue on her skin, digging her hands into his shoulders.

She kissed him roughly, their lips falling into a rhythm, and she made to unbutton her shirt. “Wait,” Rowan murmured onto her lips, holding her hands firmly in his to still them. She broke away, confused and a little hurt. As if seeing the second emotion in her eyes, he kissed her on the lips quickly - or at least, he tried to make it quick, but Aelin followed his head with her own, prolonging the kiss. As her tongue brushed his, her mate groaned before pulling away again.

“Why do you keep pulling away?” she panted, resting her forehead on his. Rowan released her hands to stroke her cheeks. She felt him breathe in her scent and smiled, knowing it comforted him as much as his did her.

“Well, for one I’m not taking you on the floor,” he started, chuckling when she smacked his arm.

It’s not like it’s never been done before, she said to him, mind-to-mind. She felt him freeze and glance up at her smirking face.

“You’re making this harder,” he grumbled.

“Good,” she snickered. He stared at her confused, before going red as he got the joke. She cackled for the first time today, standing up from the floor. She helped him get to his feet as well, laughing again as he winced and rubbed his back. Her buzzard, ever the old man.

“And two,” he glared at her, “I thought it would help you cheer up if we went to Finlas’s.”

Aelin squealed. Finlas, a kind old man, owned her favorite place to eat in Terrasen - Finlas’s. He served the most amazing dishes, not to mention their desserts. “Yes. Oh, Rowan, you’re the best!”

Rowan grinned, pleased with himself. “Well, let's go then.”

They got ready in a matter of minutes. As Rowan went to tell Alys and Beor, Aelin checked her reflection and groaned. Her face was red and puffy from crying. She splashed cold water on her face and frantically rubbed a jade green marble over her skin, something Lysandra had said would help with puffiness and bone structure. Luckily, it seemed to do the job. Dressed in the simple white shirt and black skin tight pants she’d worn all day, Aelin grabbed her bag and hurried to leave.

The mates walked out of the castle and towards the Square, hand in hand. It was a beautiful early summer evening, the sky darkening to pinks and purples, the humid air cooling to an ideal temperature. The spring flowers were giving way to green, every tree lush and bountiful. Aelin swelled with happiness as she looked around her kingdom, even more so as they reached the Square and saw people milling about, shopping and talking.

They reached Finlas’s and Rowan hurried to open the door for her. Aelin smirked as she passed. “What a gentleman,” she teased, and Rowan rolled his eyes. To their delight, Finlas himself greeted them and led them to a booth in the back. The back of the establishment was clearly meant for couples, with its dimmer lighting and flickering candles on the tables. Each seat even had a red rose placed atop its plate. As they walked by, people stared and whispered to each other.

“Enjoy your meal,” Finlas said warmly, before bowing and hurrying off to greet the next customer. Aelin settled into the cushioned booth, watching her mate as he did the same.

“What are you going to get?” Rowan asked. Aelin opened her mouth to respond before he interrupted. “Wait, no - let me guess. A medium-rare, absolutely massive steak with fried potatoes, and a fizzy drink?”

Aelin grinned. “Exactly. Great job, buzzard. Now let me guess; a curry that you will burn your tongue on like you do every single time, an iced tea and some bread?”

Rowan barked a laugh. “Exactly.”

They ordered just that, and enjoyed the meal. Aelin groaned improperly as she took her first bite of steak, sounding enough like another activity that Rowan shot her an annoyed look.

“Sometimes I can’t tell if food or me gives you more pleasure,” he hissed across the table.

“Can’t it be both?” Rowan was not pleased with that, and to Aelin’s delight her husband glared at her plate for the next ten minutes, as if it were another man who had stolen her away.

They talked of their days and their plans for the next coming weeks. Rowan was working every day on the building of the library, which was coming along speedily, most likely thanks to his Fae strength and speed. He’d even begun to help with the design aspect of the building, something Aelin wholeheartedly trusted him with. “By this time next year, you will most likely be picking out books to stock the library with,” Rowan told her. A task Aelin was most excited for, and already planning to enlist Dorian with.

Finlas brought them a huge chocolate cake free of charge. “Oh no, we couldn’t,” Aelin protested, reaching for her wallet. “It’s really to trouble at all-”

“Stop, Your Majesty,” Finlas said gently. “After what you’ve done for us - you deserve all the food in this restaurant for free.” At Aelin’s confusion, he explained; “I was a victim to a Valg raiding of my village. They took my son for their army, but…Your Majesty made sure he was safe. I have my son back now.”

“That was all Yrene, not me,” she managed to say, overcome with grief for Finlas.

Finlas shook his head. “No, Majesty. It was because of Lady Yrene, but you were the one who saved Lady Westfall, and then sent Lord Chaol to the Southern Continent to heal. Because of your kindness, you saved my son, no matter how distant the efforts were.”

Aelin couldn’t see through the blur of tears, and gave Finlas a watery smile. “Thank you.”

They walked back to the castle, the sky even darker. Aelin smiled as she looked around, surrounded by people walking through the city. Laughter filled the air, the type of laughter she hadn’t heard in a while. She pulled Rowan into an alleyway abruptly, ignoring his yelp of surprise.

“Thank you, Rowan,” she said to him. “My day was shit and now…you turned it into a happy day. You…you truly just know me so well. It still surprises me sometimes.”

Rowan smiled down at her, his face soft and open in a way she knew it only was for her. “Anything for my Fireheart.”

He bent his head and kissed her. She drew him down, opening the kiss. She felt him wrap a shield around them and glanced over, giggling when she saw him using his power to prop large slates of wood to separate their alley from the bustling town square. The noise disappeared, the only sound their ragged breaths.

“I love you,” she breathed, tipping her head back as he pulled her shirt off. His nostrils flared as he took her in, gripping her waist, rubbing his thumb over her skin.

“I love you too,” he gritted out, his eyes near black. He leaned forward and Aelin couldn’t help her loud moan as he went to work on her upper assets. She felt him huff a laugh onto her skin, and managed to pant out a; “What?”

“I made you moan louder than when you ate that steak,” he smirked, staring up at her with an expression of complete male satisfaction. She laughed, but went quiet as he claimed her mouth.

Quickly they were both only in their lower undergarments, standing in their piles of clothes. Aelin shifted impatiently, waiting for him to take her against the brick, but he was examining the wall with concern. “What are you waiting for?” she begged.

“This seems...unsanitary,” he frowned. She whined, but he still wouldn’t move - at least, until she dragged her fingers down, down his stomach…

Later, he rolled off of her, both of them panting. After the alley, they’d dressed and hurried home before he took her twice more. She should give Beor and Alys a raise, honestly.

Aelin sunk into the pillows, sleep already overtaking her. She was so glad they’d invested in this luxurious, massive bed. Rowan laid on top of her, his head on her heart, and Aelin’s arms encircled him, fingers toying with his hair. With her mate laying with her like this, the plush mattress beneath her, the soft blankets, and the feeling of happy exhaustion from the pleasure of before, she was in heaven. But just before sleep took her, her mate interrupted the peaceful silence.

“Fireheart,” he whispered into the darkness, “did you have a good day?”

Aelin smiled down at her mate, knowing the male in her arms was the male she’d worship and adore for the rest of her days. “Yes, Buzzard. Yes I did.”

#sarah j maas #throne of glass #fanfic #rowaelin #aelin x rowan #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan whitethorn #little canon fluffs #adorable #rowaelin fanfic

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maased-out · 1 year

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2023 EVENTS

February

SJM Romance Week (February 8th–February 14th)

Gwynriel Weeks (February 26th–March 11th)

March

Elain Archeron Week (March 19th–March 25th)

April

Throne of Glass Read Along (April 1st–April 10th)

Crown of Midnight Read Along (April 11th–18th)

Heir of Fire Read Along (April 19th–April 28th)

Nesta Archeron Week (April 23rd–April 29th)

The Assassin's Blade Read Along (April 29th–May 5th)

May

Elriel Month (April 30th–May 31st)

Aelin Week (May 1st–May 7th)

Queen of Shadows Read Along (May 6th–May 18th)

Empire of Storms Read Along (May 19th–May 30th)

June

Tower of Dawn Read Along (May 31st–June 10th)

Azris Week (June 4th–June 10th)

Gwyn Appreciation Week (June 11th–June 17th)

Kingdom of Ash Read Along (June 11th–June 25th)

Tamlin Appreciation Week (June 18th–June 24th)

Sun and Flame Week (June 25th–July 2nd)

July

Elucien Week (July 9th–July 15th)

Archeron Sisters Week (July 16th–July 22nd)

Elorcan Week (July 23rd–July 29th)

Cassian Appreciation Week (July 30th–August 5th)

August

Mor Week (August 6th–August 12th)

Valkyrie Week (August 14th–August 23rd)

Feysand Week (August 21st–August 27th)

Neris Week (August 26th–September 1st)

September

Rowaelin Month (September 1st–September 30th)

Aedion Ashryver Week (September 3rd–September 9th)

Elain Archeron Week (September 3rd–September 9th)

Nessian Week (September 10th–September 16th)

Eris Vanserra Week (September 17th–September 23rd)

Rhysand Appreciation Week (September 24th–September 30th)

October

Lucien Vanserra Appreciation Week (October 8th–October 14th)

November

Crescent City Week (November 5th–November 11th)

Emerie Appreciation Week (November 12th–November 18th)

December

ACOTAR Gift Exchange (December 16th–December 23rd)

#sarah j maas #elain archeron #cassian acotar #gwynriel #elucien #feysand #nessian #acotar #throne of glass #hoeab #hosab

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aelinstrand · 8 months

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FOR: OPEN STARTER. ALL.

WHEN: 28th of August, 2023.

WHERE: The Outpost.

''You're being boring,'' She pouted to her friends that were sitting around deep in conversations that she clearly had no interest in. It was her night off and the live band had her enjoying the evening, especially after the cocaine had set in.

It was her only night off this week. Whether she worked at the Outpost or on the streets tonight, she was making the most of it. And she was finding herself immersed in the lively atmosphere. The bar, a haven for her, that spanned beyond the worn-out barstools, had become the only definite in her life. The streets were unpredictable and as she'd found out this week, people would bite the hand that fed them no matter how much time she put into them. Aelin carried herself with a gritty resilience that spoke of a life both challenging and unapologetically real.

Without another word, she threw her stool back and made her way to the front, dancing with the first person that she found. The drugs were doing wonders, and right now, she had no care in the world.

"You,'' She pointed to another person without looking who it was. ''Come dance,''

#tv.starters #open to all #she's on drugs #tw: drugs

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rowaelinscourt · 9 months

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Rowaelin Month: PROMPT LIST

HERE IT IS! The Rowaelin Month 2023 Prompt List! We are ecstatic to be back for a the full month of September once again!

We hope you all love these prompts as much a we do and we are so excited to see what everyone will create in honor of our beloved Fireheart and Buzzard!

We've included a handy calendar image for you all, but if for any reason the image isn't working or is hard to read, the full list will be written out below the cut.

START DATE: September 1st

Green filled boxes denote CANON SPECIFIC PROMPTS

1. Participation every day is not required. You can create a many or as few submissions for the listed prompts as you like!

2. Please remember to tag your creations with #rowaelinmonth so people following the tag can find them! And don't forget to mention @rowaelinscourt in your post do we can reblog it!

3. Please remember that all works MUST have appropriate tags and content warnings. NSFW content is required to be tagged clearly and hidden below a 'Read More cut. We want everyone to have a fun and safe time engaging with content!

4. All genres of work are welcome, but please note any major warnings at the top of the work so readers or viewers have some idea what to expect.

5. Canon Week is back (with 2 whole extra days!) to fill that canon shaped hole in our hearts! While we kindly request that Canon Week prompts remain specifically for canon scenarios, remember that any and all prompts are welcome to be interpreted as canon/a canon-inspired setting as well! With creativity and imagination, the possibilities are limitless!

6. Any kind of fanwork can be submitted for this event so long as it can be applied to the prompt! Fanfiction, fanart, headcanons, playlists or any thing else you can think of! There are no requirements and you can submit multiple works for the same prompt of your so wish.

Rowaelin Month Prompt List

September 1: Song Fic

September 2: Accidents Happen

September 3: Rowaelin as teens

September 4: "Friends don't do this"

September 5: A Bad Date

September 6: Forced Proximity

September 7: Vacation or Outdoor Adventure (ie a road trip, beach day, hiking ect)

September 8: Single Parents

September 9: Renaissance Fair

September 10: Co-host/Guest Star with Chemistry

September 11: Getting Arrested/ A Trip to the Police Station

September 12: Meet Cute / Meet Ugly

September 13: Babies / Kids / Next Gen

September 14: An Argument/ Making up After an Argument

September 15: Meeting the Parents

September 16: Mob AU

September 17: Mating Ceremony

September 18: Aelin with hawk Rowan

September 19: Telling Their Children about Their Tattoos

September 20: Drunken Antics

September 21: Scars

September 22: Magic/Shifting Lessons with the Children

September 23: Domestic Fluff

September 24: How Rowan Knew "Fireheart"

September 25: Arranged Marriage

September 26: Taking care of the littles solo

September 27: Person A is touch starved but didn't know how to reach out to Person B

September 28: Wartime Sweethearts

September 29: Firsts (date/kiss/time/child/ect)

September 30: A Missing or Alternate Scene from Canon

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #rowaelinmonth2023 #aelin ashryver galathynius #rowan whitethorn #tog

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leiawritesstories · 8 months

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It Happened Off-Camera

Rowaelin Month 2023, day 10: Guest Stars with Chemistry

a continuation of the dating show au prompt i wrote a while ago ;)

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: language, innuendo, flirty Fenrys, naughty jokes, and i have no idea how a reality show works so i just made up stuff about that lol

Enjoy!!!

@rowaelinscourt

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

Views spiked almost 200% after last week, Aelin! The producer's comment echoed in Aelin's mind. We can't wait to see what the numbers look like when this week's episode airs.

She grimaced and turned away from her bathroom mirror. Although her villa was a camera-free zone, she wouldn't put it past the production team to find some loophole in that rule and sneak footage of her alone in her private space. Last week's episode had been an incredible success, though, what with her stupidly romantic date with Fenrys and the satisfaction of watching sniveling little Sam get booted from the suitor list.

Speaking of Fenrys...he was the first man she'd put down on the second-date list. He was just as charming and suave as the rest of the men on the show, but his infectious laugh and penchant for cracking inappropriate jokes at highly inappropriate times were right up Aelin's alley, so to speak. But she was famously close-lipped about her suitor list, both for her own sanity and for the drama.

So it was no surprise when the entire production crew gasped collectively when she and Fenrys went on a second date.

He rented a little rowboat and took her out onto the property's gorgeous lake, bringing her to the opposite shore, where he'd set up a picnic, complete with blankets, charcuterie, and wine. The camera crew followed them at a discreet enough distance, allowing Fen to lean over and whisper into her ear as he helped her out of the boat.

"Let's hope the subtitles don't pick this conversation up," he murmured, "because I don't need thousands of people hearing me tell The Bachelorette that I'm fighting a boner."

She snorted and playfully smacked his shoulder. "I wouldn't be worried about that if I were you, Fen. It's not like it's visible or anything."

He gasped in theatrical shock. "Aelin!"

"Fenrys," she cooed, the portrait of innocence. "You promised me food?" She raised her voice to camera-ready levels.

"Indeed I did." He gestured broadly to the picnic. "And even dessert, if you play your cards right." He wiggled his perfectly groomed eyebrows, playing it up for the cameras.

She laughed. "Slow down, Moonbeam. I'm one of those three-dates-before-going-home girls, you know."

"I was so hopeful!" He faked a dramatic groan. "Does this mean you'll grant me a third date, milady?"

"Maybe." She sipped at her wine, unaffected by the way he laid his head in her lap and stared imploringly up at her. "You're cute, Fen, but puppy eyes don't work on me." She leant down and whispered her next words too softly for the crew to hear. "Only bedroom eyes do."

Faster than she expected him to react, he raised his body and propped his arms on either side of her, pressing himself almost indecently close. "Thought you wanted three dates before that, Ae," he purred, playfulness and lust mingled in his dark eyes.

"Indeed," she murmured. And she pushed him gently back to his place. "No need to rush yourself, Moon Moon."

After the picnic, Fenrys rowed them back across the lake, stopping in the middle so she could gaze up at the blanket of starry darkness that laid across the property where filming took place. "Up there," he whispered, loud enough to be heard. "You can hardly see any constellations in the city, but they're so gorgeous out here."

"I was half expecting you to drop the not as gorgeous as me line," Aelin teased.

He snickered. "I can call myself gorgeous if you want, but I'd rather hear it from you." He paused, a roguish grin curling across his lips. "Moaned, ideally."

She coughed out a laugh and doubled over, almost toppling out of the boat. Swiftly, he lunged to catch her, righting both her and the boat. He cracked a quiet joke about not rocking the boat just yet and rowed them back to the shore, back towards the house where the rest of the candidates were waiting.

At least one of them was probably stewing at the fact that Fenrys had pulled a second date.

Just before they reached the pier, the boat bumped against something below the water's surface and rocked sharply.

"Shit!" Fenrys yelped, digging the oars into the water to counterbalance the sudden tilt, his muscles straining as the boat jostled and rocked again. "Hold on, Ae, I--fuck!" He spoke too late.

With a splash and a high-pitched "Shit!," Aelin went flying over the side of the boat, drawing in a sharp breath just before she plunged fully into the icy lake water. It might have been early summer, but the lake was far from pleasantly warm. She held her breath and extended her arms and legs, pushing at the water as she tried to work back to the surface.

But the godsdamned ridiculous, overly formal dress she'd been put in clung to her in all the wrong ways, constricting her range of motion, and those stupid heels were caught in what felt like a tangle of roots and wouldn't budge. Hell.

Aelin tried to keep her pounding heart under control as she bent back downwards and reached for her shoes, fumbling with the stupidly fucking tiny straps and buckles until she'd managed to free her feet from the damn things. Her lungs ached and burned with the effort of keeping her breath held. Push, Galathynius!

Partially freed, she pushed towards the surface, swearing violently to herself as she struggled against the godsdamned dress. Air rushed from her lips in a stream of silvery bubbles, and she clamped her lips back together, willing herself not to let go of any more precious breath even as she struggled to float.

Then a pair of strong, muscled arms wrapped around her waist, and she was pulled to the surface in a stroke of powerful, purely masculine strength.

She gasped and spluttered, chest heaving as she caught her breath. Her hair was plastered all over her face and her makeup ran in smeared trails, destroyed by the icy lake. Teeth chattering, she noticed the cameras zooming in on her waterlogged form and rapidly crossed her arms over her chest.

Her lack of a bra meant her nipples were rigid behind the dress, and the assholes editing the footage would never let that go unnoticed.

"Are you alright?" The man who still had his arms around her deposited her on the pier and grabbed the floating dock for stability, peering anxiously into her face. It wasn't Fenrys, as she'd thought.

It was Rowan Whitethorn.

And now her heart was pounding for multiple reasons.

"I-I'm f-f-fine," she managed to get out through chattering teeth and shivers.

"Hey!" Rowan hoisted himself out of the lake in a smooth, sleek lift that made Aelin immediately think of Anthony Bridgerton, and directed his next yell at the handful of men and crew members standing around watching Aelin shiver. "Get Miss Galathynius some damn towels! Have you never seen someone almost drown before?"

She smiled to herself. Maybe the man was more of a gentleman than she'd given him credit for initially. "I'm f-fine," she repeated, but the tremors shaking her body belied her words.

He crouched back down next to her, grumbled something about useless idiots, and laid two fingers against her pulse. "We need to get you inside," he murmured. "Can I pick you up?"

"Yes." Normally, she would refuse, but this wasn't normal.

Rowan scooped her into his arms, letting her nestle against his warm, if wet, chest, and strode towards her villa, leaving a trail of slack-jawed suitors, eager camera crew, and one flabbergasted Fenrys in his wake. "I wish they'd all fuck off," he mumbled into her sodden hair. "Yeah, yeah, it's a drama, but really?"

"Can't let the knight in sopping armor go unnoticed," Aelin quipped, her humor unharmed.

He chuckled. The deep rasp of it went right between her thighs. "If I wasn't on the damn show myself, I'd be the person punching the cameraman right about now."

"No need for that," she returned. "Just...just get me home." Exhaustion had overtaken her more than anything else.

"I will." She clung to the solid surety of those words and closed her eyes for the rest of the short walk to her villa. When he reached the steps, Rowan paused, suddenly unsure how to proceed. "Uh..."

"I don't think I can walk," Aelin admitted. "So, if you'll bring me inside, that would be lovely." She met his concerned pine gaze. "It's okay, Rowan. Plus, my villa is strictly no-cameras."

"Okay." So he walked up the stairs, pushed open her front door, brought her inside, and nudged the door closed behind them. Holding her stable with one arm, he locked the front door and then carried her into the kitchen. Gingerly, he set her down, but kept one arm around her waist for stability. "Where do you need to go?"

"Bathroom." She found her balance, wobbling only a bit, and led him down the hall to the master bedroom and its attached bathroom. She made it all the way into the modern, marble-and-glass space before her stomach roiled and she lurched away from him. "Gods," she groaned as she bent over the toilet. "Why now? Why tonight?"

Unexpectedly gentle, Rowan's hands swept her wet hair away from her face and rubbed her back in soothing strokes. "It's alright, Aelin. Just let it all out."

She retched a couple more times before her stomach settled down and her body started insisting that she get out of her uncomfortably wet clothes and into a nice warm bath. "Rowan?"

"Yeah?"

"I...I need a bath."

His tan cheeks flushed an adorable shade of bright red. "Do you need me to leave?"

She blew out a sigh. "I'd say yes, but--oh hell," she cursed as her legs gave out beneath her. "Well, it seems I'm still unstable."

"Okay." He glanced around the bathroom for a minute, unsure, and then went and turned on the bathwater, filling up the sunken marble tub with steaming heat.

"Unzip me, please," she requested, feeling her face burn crimson with the awkwardness of the request. To her relief, he didn't comment, just fumbled with the wet satin before finding the tiny zipper and carefully pulling it down the length of her back. She peeled the sodden material off her body and dropped it on the floor, not caring that she wasn't wearing any underwear, and walked down the steps into the deliciously hot bath.

Behind her, Rowan drew in a sharp breath. "Aelin." If she was in any other reality, she'd swear that there was predatory violence underlying his tone.

"What?" Safely submerged in the water up to her shoulders, she turned to look at him.

Poorly-concealed wrath tightened his handsome face. "Who did that to you?"

So he'd seen the scars slashing across her back. "Car accident. Happened when I was a child," she said, simply, boiling the truth down to its most sanitized version. And because he still looked like murder, she added, "The drunk driver who hit the car I was in died on impact."

He relaxed. A smidge. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." She leaned back into the bath, a small, soft moan escaping her as the hot water eased the tension in her muscles and warmed her chilled body back up. A thought dropped into her mind, and she cracked her eyes open. "You can use the shower if you need, Rowan."

He was still fixed where he stood, and she could have sworn that she saw dark desire flicker in those forest-colored eyes of his. "What if I want a bath?" he asked, and fire licked down her spine at the sound of his voice, low and rough and thrumming with leashed need.

And with that question, Aelin got the unmistakable sense that she'd found her bachelor.

"Then the steps are right there," she breathed, holding his intense gaze, feeling her body electrify the longer he stared at her. The longer he dragged out the charged silence, though, the more she began to question. "Unless I've read the room wrong, in which case I'm an idiot, and--oh gods, I fucked up, and--"

"Aelin." Clothes hit the marble floor with a wet thud and Rowan's chiseled body cut through the steaming water until he stood right in front of her, reached out, and caught her chin with his fingertips, tipping her head up to his. "You didn't read anything wrong."

Her breath hitched at his closeness, at the heat between them that had nothing to do with the bath. "Rowan," she whispered, hardly daring to believe the scene was real, "kiss me."

"What about the three date rule?" Gods burn her, he had a sense of humor, too?

"You found the loophole," she grinned. "Rescue the damsel in distress, and that counts as three dates."

"Lucky me." And Rowan kissed her.

Aelin blinked awake to bright sunlight, rumpled sheets, and Rowan Whitethorn snoring behind her.

She couldn't control the grin that blossomed across her face as she laid there, snug and warm in the cocoon of his arms, and listened to the adorable, snuffling snore emanating from the most controlled man on the show. Unable to help it, she rolled over and looked into his slumbering face, reaching out to trail her fingertips lightly over the tattoo that spiraled down his arm.

"I can feel you staring," he mumbled, eyes still closed.

"Can you blame me?" She dipped her head, brushed a featherlight kiss over his lips. "You're adorable when you snore."

He grumbled something incoherent. "I don't control that."

"And it ruffles your feathers, I know," she teased. "I think it's--oh!" Her teasing was cut off with another kiss.

After they separated, breaths ragged, Rowan twined a lock of her hair around his fingers, uncertainty flashing across his face. "Ae?"

"Hmm?" She held his gaze. "You can talk to me, Ro," she murmured, reassuring him the same way he'd comforted her last night.

He exhaled heavily. "Last night...it...what's going to happen?"

"Well, I'm going to start dating you," she replied. "I'll probably keep one or two other guys around because the contract says I have to, but as of now, you are the only man in my life." She traced the angle of his cheekbones. "Why?"

"Because--" The normally unflappable, granite-faced businessman fumbled for words. "Will you promise to keep a secret, Ae?"

"Of course." She laced her free hand into his and squeezed. "I promise."

He worried his lower lip, took a steadying breath, and dropped the biggest bombshell of the whole show on her.

"I have a daughter."

~~~

TAGS: please lmk if you want to be added or removed or if there's any problems :)

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

#my writing #rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #dating show au #bachelorette au #dating show fic #featuring fenrys and his flirting ofc #the bachelorette but rowaelin so it's better hehe #rowaelin month #rowaelin month 2023 #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #throne of glass fanfic

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ravendruidreads · 3 months

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House of Earth and Blood - Review

Author: Sarah J. Maas Saga: Crescent City (#1) Date Read: December 11, 2023 - January 12, 2024 Format: Digital Pages: 803 Rating: 4,4/10 (2 stars) Spice Level: 1/5

Characters: 6/10 - I didn't feel a strong connection to most of the characters, but I did tear up a few times. I do think some of the characters in this book are very similar in personality with characters from other SJM's books

Atmosphere: 3/10 - I was not expecting to fall into a modern society after reading TOG and ACOTAR. It took me a while to get used to cell phones, computers and surveillance cameras, and even by the end of the book, I was not totally convinced. This rating is also tied with the worldbuilding.

Writing: 5/10 - I'm not a huge fan of SJM's writing, but I have to hand it to her, that this wasn't as bad as I thought... mostly because I didn't have to read the word "mate" every other sentence. I still have beef with "male" though.

Plot: 4/10 - This book could have easily been cut to 500 pages and nothing important would have been lost. There were a lot of moments where the story was unnecessarily dragged on.

Intrigue: 5/10 - It took me a while to get into the story, so much that I didn't pick up the book for almost two weeks.

Logic: 3/10 - Like I said before, this rating is tied with Atmosphere. I will get more into this in the review proper.

Enjoyment: 5/10 - My enjoyment of this book was very much like a roller-coaster. It had a lot of dull moments, but it also had fun and exciting moments.

The review is hidden below due to spoilers.

There is a lot to say about House of Earth and Blood, so let's start from the beginning: the characters.

Shockingly, Bryce Quinlan is not a fair-skinned, blue-eyed, blonde woman, like the two previous FMCs from the same author. It was a very welcoming change, however, I still have a bone to pick with her. Why does SJM feel the need to write all her female (and male, but we'll get to that) main characters as being extremely hot and fuckable? Not to mention that Bryce, Aelin and Feyre have a little bit too much in common, personality-wise. I feel like we're due for some change, here. Something good about Bryce is that it was nice to have some variety and representation of a different body type. We need more curvy, wide-hipped FMCs, please.

Hunt Athalar is your copy-paste morally grey, hot as the sun, super fuckable MMC. And it wouldn't be a SJM book without wings (I'm not kink-shaming). Throughout the book, Hunt is described as being a super-powerful, cold assassin, of being the best in centuries, etc., but we never actually get to see his power in action. Sandriel's death was very underwhelming, to be honest. I hope we get to see more of Hunt's powers in CC2 and 3. One good thing about Hunt? He's not as much as an "alphahole" as I thought he would be. The only time he actually seemed to step in for a "tell me who did this" moment, was with Amelie, and that was pretty soft when comparing him to Rhys and Rowan. But there's still time.

Honorable mentions go to Danika, who died before we could love her, and Lehabah, whose death legit made me sob into my pillow (seriously, My friends are behind me and I will defend them????? How can you not cry with this????).

Now, as for the story...

I felt like the story picked up in the middle of something, like I walked into a circle of people who were already discussing a subject, which was very confusing and unpleasant. To add more logs to the fire, the so-called worldbuilding was exhaustive and confusing. It felt a lot like infodumping. Because of this, it took me a while to go through the first ten chapters (I almost gave up after three pages, but I persisted).

The murder investigation itself was fun to read, but not entirely what I was expecting from this book. Also because I had such a hard time keeping up with the lore, I had to look up a bunch of stuff, and during one of those rabbit hole searches, I spoiled myself to who Danika's killer was, so my entire experience reading the investigation was me just anxiously waiting for them to find out it was Micah, and being super confused as to why there wasn't any foreshadowing that it was him (at least I didn't pick up on it).

Speaking of foreshadowing, can we talk about the plot twist of Hunt wanting to get synth???? Was I blind and did not see it coming, or did SJM suddenly pull that out of her butt? I didn't feel like it added much to the plot other than a rift between Hunt and Bryce (which she overcame a little bit too quickly, if you ask me).

Since we're talking about POVs, I'm not sure if all formats are the same, but for me there was no demarcation between POVs, which was extremely confusing. One second we were Bryce, the next we were Hunt, and by the time I realized that, we were already back to Bryce.

Lastly, and because this review is already extensive, I would just like to express my disappointment with the lack of spice in this book. Yes, I do love me a slow burn, and yes, this is the slowest of the burns, but like... there was so much hype for this book (I should have known better after ACOTAR) for being SJM's first Adult fiction, that I thought it would have actual adult content... but no. All we got was a measly masturbation scene that was very underwhelming (hello, A Court of Silver Flames, my old friend).

Stupid honorable mentions: For over half of the book, every time I read 'CBD' I thought they were talking about weed and not the district.

#raven's reviews #crescent city #house of earth and blood #sarah j. maas #2 stars #this review contains spoilers

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moodymelanist · 7 months

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I Guess It's Half Timing (And The Other Half's Luck) Chapter Seven - September

I meant to post this for Nessian Week 2023, but alas lol. Happy September and I hope y'all enjoy this one <33

✷✷✷✷✷ Nesta

Nesta still couldn’t believe she’d let Cassian talk her into moving in together, even as she slowly began packing up her apartment and mentally preparing herself to share her space with someone again.

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” Gwyn said as she taped up another box. She and Emerie had come over to help Nesta pack up her apartment over the holiday weekend, and today they were tackling Nesta’s walk-in closet. “When’s the big move again?”

“Three weeks,” Nesta said back, gently folding one of her summer dresses before passing it over to Emerie to be packed away. Her stomach was getting big enough now that it was getting annoying to bend down, so her friends were the ones actually packing the clothes away for her. “I can’t believe it either.”

“Uh huh,” Emerie replied with a knowing smirk. “What a shocker.”

Gwyn laughed, more than ready to join in on the teasing. “He probably just pouted at her for longer than thirty seconds and she caved.”

“That is not true,” Nesta protested. “I said no when he first asked me!”

“Riiiight,” Emerie responded, snickering. “And how long did that last for?”

“Only a week and a half,” Nesta muttered over the sound of her friends’ laughter.

“Well someone sure caved easily,” Gwyn teased.

Keep reading on AO3 here!

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #moodymelanistwrites #acomaf #acowar #acofas #pro nessian #pro nesta archeron #pro cassian #cassian acotar

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renxzs · 4 years

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≫ follow @renxzs-writes for updates on written work. ✩ last updated: June 21, 2023 * nsfw (18+ only)

We're Not Friends * Rowan and Aelin keep one foot planted inside a carefully constructed bubble of denial while the other dangerously toes the blurring line between platonic best friends and lovers.

pull me back from the dark * Aelin is having a very bad day… or week. Okay, more like a very bad year. She’s in dire need of a little kindness and comfort. Although she tries to deny herself of it, feeling utterly undeserving—Rowan Whitethorn will deny her none of it.

Flight to Orynth * Aelin’s flight is delayed due to inclement weather. Thankfully she has a certain silver haired stranger to keep her company.

hold on, i still need you While out with the guys, Rowan receives a world-shattering phone call.

to feel alive Aelin propositions Rowan to a game of chicken on the old railroad tracks.

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowan x aelin #throne of glass fic #masterlist #renxzs #my fic

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leiawritesstories · 8 months

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Just "Friends"

Rowaelin Month 2023, Day 4: Friends Don't Do This

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: some swearing

enjoy!!

@rowaelinscourt

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

Ever since Rowan Whitethorn moved into the apartment directly above hers, Aelin Galathynius had made it her goal to send the building’s management as many complaints as possible. He was too loud after hours. He was always moving around furniture. He entertained friends almost every weekend, and those people never stopped yelling and drinking. He painted the walls.

That last one had resulted in a visit from the landlord and a very irritated Rowan pounding on Aelin’s door with a promise of retribution.

But after a prank gone very, very wrong, they had settled into a casual sort of friendship, which eventually matured into a real friendship.

Now, they were at each other’s apartments more than their own, and Aelin certainly wasn’t complaining. Rowan was a far better cook than she could ever dream of being, and in return, she had a better knack for interior decorating than he did. Fenrys had just about passed out from shock the first time he came over to Rowan’s to find the apartment actually set up for entertaining. He liked to joke that he’d never seen the furniture before, since he was always so busy tripping over it.

Aelin headed up the stairs with her work tote slung over her shoulder, thinking only of the incredibly long, relaxing bath she was about to take. She checked her phone, scrolling through a whole workday’s worth of notifications, and noticed a text from Rowan from an hour ago.

>>Your place tonight? Avoiding meddlesome parents. She cracked a tired smile.

<<Only if you handle dinner. Brainpower is 100% drained.

His reply pinged through in seconds.

>>Deal.

She arrived at her apartment to find Rowan leaning against the doorframe, dressed in comfortable black sweatpants and a University of Wendlyn Hockey t-shirt. Through her end-of-the-workweek exhaustion, she only managed to nod at him as she unlocked the door.

“Hey.” His hand came to rest comfortably on her lower back, offering support and comfort. “Long week?”

“So long.” She kicked off her heels, dropped her bag on the floor, and pulled the clip from her twisted-up hair. “Gods, I need food. And probably a drink.”

“I can help with that.” He shut the door behind them, ignoring the way his heartbeat sped up at the sight of Aelin with her hair unbound. “How does chicken Parmesan sound?”

“Fucking fantastic,” she sighed. “Wait. Doesn’t that take a long time to make?”

“Not if you prepped most of it earlier.” He looped one arm around her shoulders. “Go on, get comfortable, I’ll yell when it’s done.”

“Someone wants to have another noise complaint filed against him.” A grin flashed across her face. “I’m going to take a bath.” She headed down to her bedroom and locked the door behind herself out of habit. Within minutes, her work clothes were tossed haphazardly onto the floor and the bathwater was running, filling the tub with steaming hot water and the herbal aroma of lavender bath salts.

Aelin couldn’t hold back her quiet moan as she settled into the bath, feeling a week’s worth of stress and tension slowly seep out of her body the more she relaxed into the steaming, lavender-scented water. She closed her eyes and went through the steps of an exercise her therapist had given her years ago: see the thoughts, untangle the thoughts, and let the thoughts drift away until her mind was clear. By the time she’d cleared her mind of all the ridiculous bullshit she’d had thrown at her that week, the water had started to cool off, and Rowan was knocking at the bedroom door.

“Aelin?” A brief pause. “Dinner’s ready, Galathynius.”

“Out in a minute!” she called back, reluctantly opening the bathtub drain. Within a few minutes, she was dried off and dressed in her favorite sweatpants and sweatshirt set, fuzzy socks on her feet. She threw her hair into a loose braid and headed out into the kitchen, where she found freshly-cooked chicken Parmesan, pasta, a chopped vegetable salad, and a bottle of red wine. Her stomach grumbled. Loudly.

Rowan laughed. “Hope it’s as good as it looks.” He pulled out her chair. “C’mon, Galathynius, don’t just stand there, it’s not gonna eat itself.”

“Funny,” she deadpanned. She waited for him to take his set, poured both of them a generous glass of wine, and tucked into her dinner. “Oh my god,” she breathed. “This is incredible.”

“Thanks.” He grinned at her. “Anything for my neighbor who can’t boil water.”

She rolled her eyes. “Actually, I can boil water, I just prefer when other people do it for me.”

After they were done eating, Aelin collected the plates, ignoring Rowan’s insistence that he help with cleanup. “Uh-uh, Whitethorn. You cooked, I’ll load the dishwasher.”

“But–”

“But nothing, you hovering buzzard. You can put away the leftovers, but you aren’t helping with the dishes.” She waved off his next protest. “I’m mature enough to keep my own kitchen clean. How about you find a show or something to watch?”

“Fine,” he acceded. “I’m not picking one of your ridiculous reality shows, though!”

“You know you love The Bachelor as much as I do!” she called back, teasingly.

He grumbled, but when she strolled into the living room after the dishes were taken care of, he’d queued up an old season of Project Runway and tossed a few plush throw blankets onto the couch. The lights were dimmed. It was…shockingly perfect.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve been hanging out with me for too long,” Aelin drawled, settling herself on the couch with the blankets wrapped around her.

Rowan snorted. “More like I know better than to try and put on a docuseries when you’ve had a shit week.”

“How sweet,” she cooed. “There’s one thing you’re forgetting, though.”

“What?”

“C’mere.” She sat up, inviting him into the space behind her, and settled comfortably back against his warm, solid strength. He twined his arms around her middle, fixed the blankets so both of them were cozily cocooned, and let her tired body melt into him.

“Anything else, Galathynius?” His tone was dry, but lighthearted. “Silk sheets? Room service?”

“Just press play, you idiot,” she laughed, poking him halfheartedly in the chest. It didn’t hurt at all, since there were several layers of blankets (and clothes) between them.

He chuckled and pressed play, and in minutes, both Aelin and Rowan were absorbed in the world of fashion design, bad ideas and terrible design choices and horrifically hilarious mishaps and all. Though he’d never admit it, part of him liked the shitty reality TV shows Aelin always watched when she needed to unwind.

“Oh my gods,” Aelin groaned. “How the hell did they even let him near a sewing machine?” She muttered a few choice curses. “That poor model looks so uncomfortable.”

Rowan mumbled in agreement, more caught up in the sensation of Aelin’s fingernails combing through his hair than anything happening on the TV, more concerned with the possibility of her realizing he’d shifted his hands to her back and her loose golden braid–a position that bordered on something far more intimate than friendship–and pulling away from his embrace.

“You’re not even paying attention,” she teased, brushing her thumb across his cheekbone.

“Um…yes?” A smile curled the corners of his lips at her soft little laugh.

“Liar.” She turned her attention back to the show, where the designer she’d just castigated was running around in theatrical distress because his beloved creation had split right down the side, but kept her fingertips resting against his face, atop the ink that spiraled up his profile.

He’d be lying if he said his attention didn’t hone in on that specific spot of contact.

The episode ended–to Aelin’s delight, the designer she hated had to go home–and she turned her head to face him full-on, rambling about who she wanted to win the season. He barely heard any of it; he was too focused on the vivid sparkle in her eyes.

“I keep forgetting you don’t watch these shows for fun,” she joked, stopping her breathless ramble before she could go into the designs.

“But you do.”

“So you tolerate it.” She traced the lines of his tattoo.

He slid the tie from the end of her braid and trailed his hand through her silky hair. “I could get used to the overdone drama.”

She snickered. “Rowan Whitethorn, you’re a–”

“Oh my gods!” An entirely unexpected voice broke their cozy little bubble. Elide stood in the kitchen, her eyes almost as wide as her dropped jaw.

In a flash, Aelin was up and rushing to her friend. “Ells! Wait–you don’t need to–I can–” She pulled Elide into her bedroom, shut the door, and prepared for the incoming storm.

“What the hell?!” Elide shrieked. “You weren’t answering, so I used the emergency key, and I walk into your place to find you and Rowan Whitethorn on your couch, cuddling?!” She rubbed her eyes. “Gods, please tell me you weren’t–oh fuck no…” She trailed off, incredulous.

Aelin was blushing bright red by that time. “NO!” she screeched, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “We were watching Project Runway! He’s literally just my friend, Ells!”

“Friends,” Elide hissed, placing her hands on Aelin’s shoulders and staring directly into her eyes, “do not do what I just witnessed!”

Aelin didn’t have anything to say about that.

“Aelin.” As always, Elide was far too perceptive for her own good. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you and Rowan are just friends.”

“Rowan and I are…” Aelin stopped. “I-I can’t tell you that, Ells.” She gulped, sudden uncertainty throwing her for a loop. “Oh gods, what if I say something and he leaves? I don’t know if I–”

“He’s not going to leave.” Elide cut her off. “Here’s what’s going to happen. First, I’m going to leave, because you don’t need anyone else around for the next few hours. You’re going to go out there. You’re going to tell Rowan what just happened when he inevitably asks. And then you’ll be disgustingly in love for the rest of your lives and you can give me credit at your wedding.” She hugged Aelin briefly and tightly. “Go get the man who’s so hopelessly in love with you that he watches your shitty TV shows.” Blowing her a kiss, Elide left.

Aelin blew out a shaky sigh and headed out into the living room, tentatively crossing to where Rowan was frozen on the couch. His eyes locked onto her as she padded across the hardwood floor and stopped in front of him, unsure whether to sit back down or stay there.

“Hey,” he said softly, breaking the silence. “That was…uh…unexpected?”

“And then some,” she added. A thousand emotions flickered across her face. “Rowan, I–”

“I need to–”

They spoke at the same time.

He stopped. “You go ahead.”

“Are we just friends?” she blurted. “Because…because I don’t want to be just friends.”

“I don’t want to be just friends either.” His voice was a bare whisper, but it thrummed with conviction. “I’m in love with you, Aelin Galathynius.”

She cracked a quivering smile. “That was fast.”

He looped his arms around her waist and tugged her down into his lap. “I guess it took me long enough to admit it to myself, and once it was out there, I didn’t want to waste any more time.”

“Oh, Rowan,” she whispered, wonder filling her tone, “I might be in love with you, too.”

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

#my writing #rowaelin month #rowaelin month 2023 #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #rowaelin #aelin galahthynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin au #modern au #pranksters to idiots to friends to lovers

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