alittlelightningbolt

[alittlelightningbolt]

@purple-panni @byrock124 @a-fin01 @levakhal @booksandmorefreely @randomshitsfromylife @theilliumbluebell10 @queenjustyna @somegendermostlygay @damebadwolf @booklover41802 @eden-wonder @arbitrary-numb3r @alifletcher2012 @elentiya-the-unbroken-spirit @katastrophic @xelly @shadowturtlesstuff @santas-dwynwen @shadowhuntersinwendlyn @lilmoonpixie @ysnsnsn123 @irrelevant5 @soloswifty @jeanthestoryteller 

Ray-Ban Sunglasses

[alittlelightningbolt]

@purple-panni @byrock124 @a-fin01 @levakhal @booksandmorefreely @randomshitsfromylife @theilliumbluebell10 @queenjustyna @somegendermostlygay @damebadwolf @booklover41802 @eden-wonder @arbitrary-numb3r @alifletcher2012 @elentiya-the-unbroken-spirit @katastrophic @xelly @shadowturtlesstuff @santas-dwynwen @shadowhuntersinwendlyn @lilmoonpixie @ysnsnsn123 @irrelevant5 @soloswifty @jeanthestoryteller 

Ray-Ban Sunglasses

[alittlelightningbolt]

I'm a little afraid of the Terms and Conditions.

I've never read them.

I could've given away my kidney and firstborn child by now.

I wouldn't know.

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My brother told me he wanted to start reading the Harry Potter books, he's 18, I'm so proud

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Happy Birthday to Fred and George Weasley: the real slim shady since 1978

🥳😍

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I think my depression started the day I realized my Hogwarts letter wasn't coming

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Me after I buy $70 worth of books from Barnes and Noble:

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Just another handsome perfect boi with inner turmoil that seems like a bad boy but is actually good which makes him 10x better fictional character for me to love

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When Rowan Met Aelin Chapter Two: The Beginning of the End

Hey guys! Thank you so much for the feedback on my last post, you guys are the best!! Here’s the second chapter in the series. I’ll probably make a post for most of the chapters involving Rowan and Aelin from Heir of Fire from Rowan’s point of view. Feel free to ask for other kinds of fanfics or comment if you want to be tagged in my next post. Thanks so much for reading and enjoy!

Rowan locked eyes with Aelin as he stepped out of the shadows, the chuckle dying in his throat as those turquoise eyes cored with gold met his. They studied each other and he barely noticed when the vagrant woman and the other gutter rats scurried down the alley away from him and the mysterious girl before him. He cocked his head slightly as he studied her, disbelief and sorrow etched into every line of her gaunt face. He saw her eyes flick up and down his body before resting on the tattoo that flowed over the left side of his face and down his neck. His eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw as she casually slipped a hand beneath her cloak, no doubt resting on the hilt of a dagger hidden there. He remembered himself enough to quickly scan the alleyway around them before striding towards her. He almost smiled as she shifted into a defensive stance, ready to fight him if he attacked. He would have liked to, if not for Maeve's command to collect her as quickly as possible and return to Doranelle. He longed to wipe that petulant look off of her face, the face that was currently assessing every inch of him and that simultaneously intrigued and unsettled him.

She kept her eyes locked onto his as he stalked towards her, even when most people would have looked away so as not to meet his predatory gaze that promised death if they so much as breathed wrong. The fact that she refused to back down made his blood boil and he longed to draw his dagger, but he made no such move. It would be going against Maeve's orders, and if she heard of his disobedience, it wouldn't be pleasant.

As he got closer to her, her scent became stronger and he almost gagged, she was even more disgusting smelling up close. But there was another scent buried under that stench, it smelled of jasmine, lemon verbena, and power. Like the crackling embers of a fire seconds before erupting. Strangely, Rowan was drawn to this power, more so than he'd ever been drawn to Maeve's. Her scent unsettled him, it was the scent of a queen without a throne. She narrowed her eyes and strolled toward him, trying to maintain a casual stance.

“Well met, my friend, well met, indeed,” her voice was made of velvet and washed over Rowan's senses like an ocean wave, sweeping over him in it's warm caress, washing away all other thoughts. Rowan could hear the beat of her heart, a heart raging with fire, it's intensity near scorching. He could smell the arrogance, sorrow, hopelessness, and fear that coated her like a glove. He tried not to smirk. Despite her facade of indifference and swagger towards him, she was afraid of him. She knew she could never beat him, not with his years of experience and the superior strength he possessed. The assassin had finally met someone who could best her without batting an eye.

She stepped back and swallowed,  her throat bobbing with the movement. Her voice took on a cheerful and unperturbed tone as she said loudly, “What a lovely surprise. I thought we were to meet at the city walls.”

Rowan maintained his stony gaze, his entire body still as he opened his mouth and spoke two words, “Let's go,” He turned around to stalk down the alleyway to the street beyond, his Fae ears twitching as he listened to her quiet footsteps following him. He strode through the streets, the humans parting to let him pass and gawking at him as he made his way to a quiet square where two ordinary mares he'd paid a stable hand to bring there earlier that morning were tied next to a water trough under the awning of a nearby store. That was the only time in the two weeks he'd spent traveling and watching Aelin that he'd shifted into his Fae form, and he'd relished it. After he'd secured the horses he'd made quick work of gathering and consuming a large meal of whatever he could find that wasn't a rodent or other people's castoffs before reluctantly shifting again and returning to his post. Rowan mounted the bigger and healthier looking one of the two mares, not deigning to acknowledge Aelin as she strolled over to the other, half starved looking mare. His gaze locked on the narrow bands of scar tissue that encircled her wrists and the many scars that coated her hands and what he could see of her forearms. His gaze remained fixed on them until she shook the long sleeves of her shirt down to cover them and said to him, “I've known a few brooding warrior-types in my day, but I think you might be the broodiest of them all.”

He swung his head around to look at her, his pine-green eyes narrowing and a silver eyebrow raising as she continued, “Oh, hello. I think you know who I am, so I won't bother introducing myself. But before I'm carted off to gods-know-where, I'd like to know who you are.”

He pressed his chapped lips together in anger and annoyance and flicked his eyes over the square, his viscous gaze locking on the humans that were staring at them and a thrill of satisfaction coursed through him as they all scuttled away in fear. He didn't want to reply to Aelin's question, he only wanted to leave this unbearably hot place and go back to Doranelle. He hadn't risked using his magic to cool himself off for fear of being detected, it had been a nightmare. He'd sat on the roofs of houses, panting in the heat of the sun, watching as Aelin did absolutely nothing for days on end. It was part of the reason he despised her so much. On the other hand, if he made it clear he wasn't the talking sort, she might shut up and stop being such a pain in his ass, then the rest of the journey would pass with as little interaction as possible. Rowan doubted he'd be so lucky. His gaze remained fixed on the square and the buildings around him, his senses open, anticipating and preparing for an attack as he replied quietly, “You've gathered enough about me at this point to have learned what you need to know.”  He didn't miss the way her eyes shifted down to his lips and back up to his eyes, or the slight quirk in the corner of her mouth as she replied coolly, “Fair enough. But what am I to call you?”

Rowan huffed in annoyance, he was quickly tiring of her presence already. He only needed to keep his anger in check for a while longer, then he could escape her presence for a while. It was only with that thought in mind that he was able to voice his next words. “Rowan,” he said, his voice low and a lethal edge to it. He almost snapped at what she said next in that insolent, mocking tone of hers that made his blood boil and his hand itch to reach across and slap her. “Well, Rowan. Dare I ask where we're going?”

“I'm taking you where you've been summoned,” he practically spit out.

It was a gift from the gods when she fell silent and mounted her mare, following Rowan out of the city. She was silent the entire way, it was music to his ears. He pulled his dark hood over his bright hair and pointed ears in an attempt to mask his heritage. Rowan felt the roiling pit of anger and annoyance lessen slightly as he quickened his horse's gait to pull ahead of Aelin's. Rowan was relieved when she did not attempt to make conversation again. He would try not to think about the assassin riding behind him, her beautiful, if not dirty, golden hair shining in the sun. If he didn't think about who she was, what she'd done, Rowan might be able to control himself and not kill her. Maybe. He doubted it.  

@poisonous00 @togswiftie @theilliumbluebell10 @shadowstar2313 @thestarwhowishes

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When Rowan Met Aelin

This is the first fic I’ve ever posted and I’m super exited to see how it goes. Feel free to leave any suggestions or comments. If it gets a good response I might post a Chapter 2. Enjoy!

Summary: From Rowan’s point of view from when Aelin comes to Varese and he spies on her for a few days before bringing her to Maeve.

Aelin Galathynius was exactly as Rowan had envisioned. Lazy, spoiled, and utterly useless. He had been trailing her for a few days now. He’d picked up her scent as she traveled inland from Wendlyn’s coast, towards it’s capital Varese. He’d spent his time watching her waste away the day gorging herself on bread and wine and spending her nights brawling in the various taverns throughout Varese. Currently, he was in his hawk form watching her from a few houses over as she sprawled on a rooftop, lazing in the hot sun. Following her for the past twelve days was the most boring job Maeve had assigned him yet, and sitting in the blistering sun all morning wasn't his idea of fun, but he had been ordered to do it, so he did it, at least so he could keep Fenrys at bay. He cringed when he remembered how eager he'd been to get his claws in her. He didn't know why, but he didn't like the thought of Fenrys being alone with Aelin for a few months.

Rowan wasn't sure why she'd come to Wendlyn, Maeve hadn't explained to him the reason she had journeyed across the sea from her comforts in Adarlan. He assumed that it was to meet with her kin, the Ashryvers, but she made no move to enter the castle or announce her identity, other than study the guards, the wall, and the palace with a passive gaze. He supposed she looked rather lost and unfeeling, like she was too exhausted to feel much of anything. Though, he doubted she really had cause to look that way, what could have possibly been done to a spoiled brat like herself to warrant pity from him? Especially from him.

He'd done his best to blend in and not attract any attention, especially from Aelin. He didn't need her getting a whiff of his magic and bolting. So for the past few weeks he'd remained in animal form, surviving off mice, rats, and the bits of meat scraps the peasants left out. It wasn't pleasant, he was ready to change back to his human form. He would soon, he thought to himself, he'd spent long enough boring himself to death watching her. He would wait until she got out of the more crowded parts of the city and then go collect her.

Movement caught his eye and he watched the girl hoist herself into a sitting position, eyes squinting against the blindingly bright sun, grasping for the wine jug that she had set down hours earlier. She tipped the bottle up to her mouth, and frowned as she found that it was empty. It was probably for the best that she didn't have access to more alcohol, she already looked like crap from the brawl she'd started in a tavern the night before and the copious amounts of wine she’d already consumed. He ruffled his feathers in annoyance when he remembered that he would have to deal with this poor excuse for a person, let alone a queen. And gods, the stench wafting over to him. She smelled like sour sweat, a pig farm, and a tavern, not bathing and consuming only oniony bread and sour wine had taken a toll on her personal hygiene. She was staring at the guards on the street below in annoyance. Suddenly, a shadow of pain and self loathing passed her face, and disappeared just as quickly, replaced by the same look of exhausted annoyance. That look unsettled Rowan. It was the same look he saw when he looked at himself in the mirror.

Annoyance and exhaustion pinching her face, she stuck out her tongue at the guards, the castle, and me. I squawked and snapped my beak in annoyance, my wings flaring behind me. How fitting, a spoiled princess throwing a tantrum. I would've rolled my eyes if I could have. I watched as that annoyance melted off of her face, and was replaced by a look of such devastation and sadness as she closed her eyes to savor the cool breeze carrying the scents of all varieties of spices from the nearby market. The look surprised him, surprised and unsettled him. It made him think of Lyria, and the happiness and family he had lost when she died. Rowan hated Aelin Galathynius in that moment. Hated her for her sadness, her laziness, her entitlement, for making him remember. He'd seen that look a few times in the days he'd been watching her. It appeared when Galan Ashryver rode through the palace gates, the crowd roaring his name, or when she seemed to be dragged down by the memories that were threatening to drown her. Since that day, she had seemed even more lost. She drifted in a haze, spending her time sleeping, eating, and drinking, and provoking the most brutal tavern fights Rowan had ever seen, but she always managed to slip away before the city guards came.

She began to shimmy down the drainpipe connected to the roof she was sitting on, and Rowan decided it was time. He flew down to the shadowy alleyway a short distance from where she was and shifted into his Fae form, watching as she stumbled down the alleyway and was hit by a vagrant woman. It was quite comical. Aelin was dirty enough and smelled bad enough that she could easily pass as a vagrant wandering the streets looking for food or a place to sleep. The woman obviously thought she was, and was prepared to fight her for it. Rowan chuckled, he enjoyed seeing little Aelin Galathynius brought so low. Still chuckling, Rowan stepped out of the shadows behind her. Aelin gasped slightly as she turned and beheld who, or rather, what stepped out into the open, dooming her to her fate.

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Feyre and Tamlin

I understand why Feyre hates Tamlin and I 100% share that attitude. Yet, I don’t think Feyre regrets loving him and I’m honestly glad they fell in love because Tamlin gave Feyre what she needed at that time: a protector, a provider, and for a time, happiness. If she had not been so in love with him she would never have gone to save him Under the Mountain, never would have defeated Amarantha and freed Prythian or Rhys, and by extension Amren, Cassian, Azriel, and Mor. So I’m glad Feyre fell in love with Tamlin, no matter how much pain it caused her in the end, because it set her on the path to find herself, to find her family, her mate, and her home.

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Headcannon Time: ACOMAF edition

Okay so I don’t know if this is a thing already buuuuttt I have this headcannon that in ACOMAF whenever Feyre was in the Night Court because of her bargain with Rhys, she started to look healthier not only because she didn’t have to deal with Tamlin the Tool but also because Rhys knew they were mates and his magic, whether consciously or subconsciously, was trying to heal her and make her healthy again because as we all know, mates can’t hurt each other and they hate to see each other in pain. Thank you peace out and also f*ck Tamlin

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My emotions are wrecked because of endgame

post-endgame mood

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I’m turning nocturnal because of this

Some of you haven’t stayed up reading until 4 am because you literally couldn’t put down your book until it was finished even though you needed to be up early the next day and it shows

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Heir of Fire (a summary)

Aelin: Okay, let’s just agree to say I’m sorry on 3.

Aelin: 1 - 2 - 3

Rowan, standing with his arms crossed and a deadpan expression: *silence*

Aelin: Well now I’m just disappointed in both of us

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My thoughts after reading Heir of Fire:

1. Rowaelin (my new OTP)

2. Keelie dying (I’m devastated now)

3. Manon Blackbeak (literal goddess)