#enjoyyyyyyyy

[mondaijo]

taxian-jun and his concubine for Ranwan Calendar (on twt/ig) 🎀

[leiawritesstories]

Keeping Vigil

Rowaelin Month 2025, Day 15: Flipped POV @rowaelinscourt

little bit late but enjoy this little Rowan POV of *that* rooftop scene in Queen of Shadows 😉

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: lots of emotions

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

That dress would be the end of him.

Over three centuries, and Rowan Whitethorn's near-legendary willpower had never drawn so close to its breaking point as it had in the opulent dining room of Arobynn Hamel's mansion as he watched the red-haired human male who reeked of old blood and arrogance trace his steel-gray gaze down Aelin's body. Hell, he'd nearly toppled the damn table when she'd made that remark about her undergarments---or rather, her lack thereof. The only thing keeping Rowan from recreating the table leg legend was the discomfort he sensed simmering under Aelin's lazy smile. For Aelin, for the queen he was now blood-sworn to protect, he would leash his temper.

He knew his rage had been thick enough to touch when they left, when he couldn't tear his gaze away from the black ring on Aelin's finger. He knew his relief had been equally palpable, and he'd cursed the king of Adarlan for keeping him from shifting into his hawk form so he could fly out of that carriage and expend his anger in flight. None of the others, least of all his queen, deserved to see him stewing in his own immortal turmoil.

Aelin had been uncharacteristically silent the whole drive back to her apartment, and when the carriage stopped, she was the first one out, not stopping to let Aedion prop open the door. The weight of her discomfort still lingered; Rowan sensed its heaviness dragging behind her like an iron chain. But when he quietly entered her bedroom, it was empty. The window was propped open, and a breeze curled across the room, bearing the metallic tang of an impending rainstorm.

"I'd wager she's on the rooftop." Rowan whirled around, finding the shifter standing in the doorway. Lysandra. "She often sits up there if she needs to think."

Rowan nodded. "Where are the stairs?"

Lysandra chuckled. "Aelin lived here just after she got out of the Assassins' Guild. She'd never choose a building with such an obvious escape."

"I should have guessed." Rowan turned back to the window and pushed the glass all the way open. About an arm's reach away, a set of metal ladder rungs were bolted to the brick exterior.

"Rowan." Lysandra's voice held an undercurrent of worry. "Aelin is..." She folded her arms across her chest. "Arobynn broke her mind, too." A whistle sounded from street level, and Lysandra stepped back. "I need to go. Let her think." She hurried back down to the waiting carriage.

Let her think. The shifter's words echoed in Rowan's head. He would---but he needed to see Aelin, too. He needed to see that she was safe.

He pushed himself up, perching on the window ledge, and he reached out and grasped the closest rung of the ladder built into the outer wall of the building. He swung himself out and across and found a foothold a few rungs below, and he scaled the steps up to a metal grate walkway that ran along the side of the warehouse's roof. The downpour from earlier had softened to a steady drizzle, and the grate was slick beneath his feet. The walkway stopped where the roof flattened out, and as Lysandra had said, that was where he found Aelin. She stood alone on the wide, rough tiles of the rooftop, silhouetted against the night sky. The streetlamps from below cast a faint glow onto the serpentine golden curves of the dragon roaring up her spine, and for a moment, he just stared, fixated on the queen with fire in her veins and sorrow on her shoulders.

"I can hear you brooding," Aelin said, breaking the silence.

Rowan huffed and crossed the rooftop, closing the distance between them. "You'll ruin that dress standing out here in the rain."

She turned to face him, a skeptical look on her face. "You males are all the same, you know. Aedion had that look on his face, the one that means he's going to scream at me, when we were in the carriage."

"Aedion is protective of you."

"Territorial Fae brutes," she grumbled. Her gaze shifted back out over the city, back towards the manor house, and Rowan slid his arms around her, lending her his warmth. She was like ice, her dress soaked through and clinging to her figure, the cosmetics all but washed off her face.

She was breathtaking.

She was silent for a long while, leaning ever so slightly into him, her frigid hands gradually warming in his larger, rougher ones. He could almost feel the heaviness of her thoughts, the guilt of her past and the worry for the plans she'd laid in place for the future. She was barely two decades old---a blink of an eye to an immortal Fae---but the weight she bore was impossibly heavy.

Perhaps in some kind of effort to ease her burden, Rowan turned to look at her. "Tell me what you're thinking." It might have been a plea.

A smirk flickered across her lips. "I'm thinking that the next time I want to unsettle you, all I need to do is tell you how rarely I wear undergarments."

Damn his mind to the deepest hells for the images it conjured. "Is there a reason you do that, princess?"

"Is there any reason not to?" Her ability to make snarky comments in the heaviest of moments must have kept her alive years ago.

He couldn't help but admire how she'd never lost that spark. His hand flattened against her waist, his fingers brushing against the golden thread of the dragon and swiftly retreating lest he do something stupid like flick open the hooks that held the dragon in place. "I pity the foreign ambassadors who will have to deal with you."

She grinned up at him, bright like wildfire. "No, you don't."

He really didn't. In fact, he rather wished he could be in the receiving room when Aelin's quick wit and sharp tongue left snooty foreign ambassadors in spluttering shambles. She'll be a wonderful queen.

He wanted to be there when she realized it.

As if his thoughts had blared out a signal, Aelin's hand cupped his face, and he froze, his gaze crashing into hers. Hope---a fragile thread of hope peeked through her worry, mirroring the faint hint of hope that he hid beneath his gruffness. Her thumb brushed across his cheekbone, and the want that he'd stifled since she first shared his room at Mistward broke through the frayed scraps of his control and came roaring into his gaze.

Aelin sucked in a shuddering breath as the force of his wanting hit her, and he saw it reflected in her face. The desire. The need. Her other hand drifted up to touch his face, the pads of her rain-soaked fingers achingly gentle against the tattoos that trailed down his skin, and his eyes fell closed. It had been so long since someone had taken that kind of care, had touched him that gently, had been allowed to see past the barriers he kept up at all times.

"Rowan," she breathed, a plea and a prayer.

Fireheart, his heart pled in response. He opened his eyes, found her still staring at him, waiting for his reaction before she went any further. It had been so long since he'd been given that space.

For that---for seeing him---she deserved infinitely better, infinitely more, than a centuries-hardened warrior could ever give her.

Her touch slipped down the side of his face, and his control threatened to shatter. Before the roaring in his veins could take over, he caught her wrists, pulled himself away from her touch, holding her a pace away, protecting her from the primal hunger raging in his immortal veins. "Don't," he choked out. "Don't...touch me like that." Because you are too good, because you deserve far more than what I can give you.

Those beautiful turquoise eyes shuttered and went hollow.

"I'm sorry," she rasped. She slipped her hands from his shell-shocked grasp and backed away. "I didn't mean---" Another step. "It was nothing."

It was everything. His hands fell to his sides, and his fingers flexed, trying to bypass his restraint and reach for her, like his body rebelled against the thought of letting Aelin walk away with that hollowness on her face.

But before he could muster up the words, before he could try to tell her that she deserved infinitely more than a stolen, rain-drenched moment of abandon, she picked up her sodden skirts and fled down the walkway, the dragon on her spine vanishing into the dark.

~~~

TAGS:

as always, let me know if you want to be added/removed!

@rowaelinscourt

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

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@goddess-aelin

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@clea-nightingale

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@silentquartz

@renxzs

@arialovesyou

@sirius-blacks-official-girl

@mysterylilycheeta

@mis-lil-red

@aelinchocolatelover

[7wuliy]

[switchytransboy]

Can you post some teasy tickle spot pics? 😋🤩🙈 Pleaseeeeeeee?

since you asked nicely and i’m already wearing a crop top today 😘 sure thang 🫶🏼

[velvetsainz]

babes i have two questions

1. how did exams go? 2. part two corsica i need it

xoxo ily

omg omg hi!!

exams — i got my shit rocked, literally passed by the skin of my teeth. despite doing over a thousand practice questions, i just eeked it out. but hey—we passed! that's all that matters! i still have to write 2 papers for the rotation by the end of the week, but hopefully neither should take more than an evening to do. thank you for asking 🤍

corsica — GET IN LINE BABES (no fr tho the next part should be out in the next few days as it is currently in process!!) buuuuuut b/c i am a benevolent dictator, here's a little preview 🤭:

(ft. google docs hating the use of french lmao)

also, a peek behind the curtain:

those tan lines??? YOUR HONOR, HE'S A LITTLE SLUUUUT literally my inspiration for this set of fics that's it just him being a goddamn slut and me being feral for it

i am but a simple woman 😌✨

[baylardo]

DO QUESTION 8. BE LONGWINDED.

8. What's an old project idea that you've lost interest in

im gonna PAGE BREAK this one teehee! dont feel like u gotta read this dookie its hecking DENSE original content lmao. this aint even all of it just the stuff that pertained directly to stories i had in mind

I used to be super passionate about developing my headworld Tenebres which like, I still love it a lot and I think about it sometimes but idk I lost the spark for it I guess haha... I had a few kinda "big arc" stories in it, some of them were just AU's for fandom stuff, but omg I'd always put my heckin heart into it maaaaang. :/

BASICALLY I RAN OUT OF CHARACTERS LOL

Tenebres Lore: Tenebres takes place in present day and focuses on the hidden society(s) of magic and monsters. Characters can vastly range in appearance and abilities; many of the rules are set as suggestions rather than guidelines. The one thing to keep in mind in regards to looks is that if they interact with common folk they need to be able to "blend in" which can be achieved in a variety of ways.  While there are some classifications that entirely define some characters in what they are, there are other circumstances where a character can fall into multiple categories. In these instances, there is usually one that represents them more than the other.  Generally speaking all potential types of magic are fair game in Tenebres. The only exceptions are time and dimension manipulation, which are strictly prohibited by a common code kept by most Magi. 

Vera and Jagger: one of my earliest stories involved me and my friend's OCs Vera and Jagger who were both werewolves. my werewolf lore is a bit dense but suffice to say that Vera is a "moon-blessed" called a Lune werewolf and Jagger is a "moon-cursed" werewolf called a Tenebroso. Tenebroso become uncontrollable, enraged, and lose their sense of self in their wolf form. Tenebroso also target Lunes for some unknown reason, they kinda set them off..... thats da mystery is that this new "strain" of werewolves is attacking packs and Vera in particular is like "haha something's majorly up rn. im gonna get to the bottom of this" so the idea was that Vera discovers Jagger stuck somewhere and through exposure therapy of herself (a Lune) to him theyre able to uncover some of the mysteries surrounding Tenebrosos. AND THEY FALL IN LOVE. Lune Lore: Lunes are the rarest of the four races of werewolves. Their symbol atop their head is an upward-facing crescent with a dot within its arch.  Lunes are so rare because of the means in which one becomes a Lune; Lunes are said to be "blessed" by the moon, seeing as more often than not it is the only time they are able to transform. This does not negate them from transforming at other times, but unlike other werewolf races, they cannot stop or even try to stop the transformation from occurring in the presence of the moon.   Tenebroso Lore: Tenebroso have an upside down crescent with a circle attached to its arch on the outer rim. Some have wondered if they have any correlation with Lunes considering how similar their symbols are, though there is no evidence of this aside from the fact that Tenebroso will specifically target Lunes when they are in the area. Not much is known about Tenebrosos, though it is assumed that their initial transformation occurs under intense emotional distress.  Tenebroso are big and burly, mutated-looking werewolves. Though they do not always look this way. Similar to casts their outward appearances can largely range from one to the other. Normally their bouts of rage occur around Lunes or other werewolves, leading to rampages. When a Tenebroso is out of this state of mind they look more like a normal werewolf.  Their eyes will gleam white when they're attacking and can often times be seen spewing and coughing out black ooze from their mouth. Their entity will darken with a black aura as well.

Juneau my beloved: Juneau's lore is that she was a well-renown mage that began self-experimenting on herself with spells and curses and she ends up irrevocably cursing herself into sometimes becoming a big carnivorous and kinda head-empty beast so she loses her reputation and gets kicked out of prestigious mage school she taught at and lives on her own doing plague doctor work which involves curse removal and cleaning up magic "outbreaks" but she ends up getting sought out by this young familiar named Hemlock who wants to learn advanced magic (which is a no-no for familiars) but juneau's so far removed from mage society that the two agree to risk it and she takes Hemlock and a few other familiars under her wing. there's also Ethel who's a mage that accidentally turned herself into a dragon and she's hiding out with Juneau and faked her death bc she thinks her condition is humiliating, where juneau kinda owns her curse and doesnt care with other magefolk think. her and juneau dont like each other very much, Ethel is very lawful good where Juneau's pretty CHAOTICALLY aligned. she frets over them getting caught teaching familiars advanced magic, but they both have nothing better to do and miss teaching so they do it. eventually they become friends and help their little familiar students excel at magic in a more public light, bringing themselves out of hiding as well. Familiar Lore: Familiars are considered to be lesser magi. The ability to use magic in one's animal form defines what a familiar is. Their magic stems from their animal forms and is usually the form that is able to harness the largest amount of magic. Some familiars are born humans while others are animals; more often than not they're humans. Familiars are sought out at very young ages.  Regardless of what a familiar was born as, every familiar has a unique symbol or symbols somewhere on their body; they are always symmetrical in their position on the body. They normally take on the general look of a swirl though its contents can vary significantly. Normally referred to as the Marks of Change, this is how a familiar is identified as a familiar and not just a magical animal. Marks of Change are normally monochromatic and can be lighter or darker than the familiar's skin. Unlike werewolf markings, Marks of Change are always visible and do not vanish when not in use; in addition to this they cannot be removed. Oftentimes these markings are in places where limbs emerge or change, but not always.  In order for a familiar to be enrolled in a magic school or academy they have to successfully perform their transfiguration; this is a very simple requirement in comparison to other witches and wizards who are not themselves a familiar. Familiars have very low expectations in the magic community, the most a familiar can hope to achieve is being the assistant to a high ranking or prosperous witch or wizard. Most studies for a familiar pertain to their transfigurations as well as catalyst magic, which involves the combining of individuals' magic.  Familiars are intended to be able to naturally shift between states whenever necessary. A familiar's overall comfort in their animal state can range drastically. Some find great ease shifting back and forth between forms while others, more reluctant to the change, can abstain from shifting; this  comes with potential side effects such as an odd mergence of the two forms, one might start growing a tail or feathers if they choose not to shift into their animal state.  Because of their constant fluctuation between forms, Familiars will often wear loose, baggy clothing that is easily removable. It is not required to a Familiar to have, but makes their removal easier when shifting into an animal.  A familiar's animal form does not hinder their lifespan, though it can increase it. As familiars age, their inclination to remain in their animal form grows, though this happens very late in life. This does not mean that they lose their humanity, though in some rare cases familiars can lose their sentience.

Blake and Schofield: just 1917 AU in Tenebres, Schofield's a mage, Blake's an Origin werewolf. blake ends up dying like he does in da movie and he becomes a GHOST that "haunts" schofield, just kinda follows him around and stuff after he dies, the story being theyre trying to figure out why he didnt pass on, why he's still around. it would follow Schofield surviving the war with blake as his invisible buddy, eventually they figure out a way to bring him back and he had a purpose to serve as a ghost.

Origin Lore:  Origin werewolves are identified by the O shape on their forehead.  Origins are one of the more common races of werewolves. Origin werewolves are werewolves born already inheriting their ability to transform. They can come from a single werewolf parent or both, though regardless of their parents' symbol, the offspring will be an Origin. This does not affect or prohibit the inheriting of certain abilities or features from their parents, however.   Origins are considered to be the average for werewolves, not necessarily being the strongest, nor the weakest. They are usually the ones to have their transformations under control at all points in time, given that they were born with the power to do so. They tend to have no special abilities aside from the obvious, and seem to be the most humane of a pack.

Farscape Tenebres AU:

John is a human, over the course of time Aeryn, a mage, teaches him how to use magic and he becomes a mage himself, but in the beginning he's just some guy that falls down a portal that allows him to travel between "mageworlds" which are kinda cut off little mage-made dimensions that magefolk use to avoid using magic around commonfolk. anyway he stumbles upon a mageworld that's sole purpose was to be a prison for people who committed magic crimes and that's how he'd find the "moya crew". D'Argo's a Cast werewolf, Zhaan's a grim reaper, Rygel's a vampire, Chiana (who they'd meet later) is a succubus. They end up escaping and just kinda exist via jumping through portals and running from the law.

I had a name for the magic police written down somewhere but it's been lost to time so it's back to being filler named: [MAGIC POLICE] lore:

The death of a magic-involved individual is something the [MAGIC POLICE] are obviously inclined to investigate

Harm of another wizard has a lot of laws and a lot of potential punishments dependent on the severity of the incident

The [MAGIC POLICE] will also investigate general public crimes that have been involved with magic, for the threat of the magic community being exposed, [MAGIC POLICE] officers are given the okay to use mind manipulation magic on the general public to aid in their forgetting of certain events

The [MAGIC POLICE]'s job is to apprehend wrongdoers whereas plague doctors for example clean up the messes afterwords

[MAGIC PRISON] (Tartarus) is where apprehended criminals are contained, it is seemingly limitless in the capacity it holds

Cast Lore:

Casts have a six-pointed star on their forehead. 

Casts receive their powers by curses or spells acted upon them. The means as to how, why, and what the side effects are for a Cast may vary very much depending on how it was that they became a werewolf. This subtype of werewolves is one of the rarer kinds as magic is not common in today's society, though the ability to become a Cast still exists. They are usually the strongest of a pack, gifted with enhanced skills and strength. A Cast will normally have one particular ability that is unique to only them; that isn't to say that there aren't similarities between Cast abilities either.

Some examples may include but are not limited to: The ability to control an element (Fire, wind, electricity, water, etc.), psychic abilities (Illusion, foresight, telepathy, telekinesis, etc.), enhanced physical capabilities (Increased, strength, sleep, sight, hearing, etc.) 

Casts are only able to use their magic in their wolf forms.

Some Casts can be muleheaded and a bit arrogant in dealing with affairs, though the other werewolves know how to put a Cast in its place. Casts will sometimes have unique coloring and fur, occassionally one may see a Cast with vibrant colors in association with its natural fur color. They are also seen to have odd mutations in their wolf forms such as an extra set of limbs, though not all of them carry this trait.

[bisexual-horror-fan]

f…. Freddy love letter please?

Signed,

A member of the Freddy Fucker Fanclub

Bless you for asking this, literally thank you so fucking much! I had a good ass time with this! A mostly SFW Freddy Krueger love letter! Here we go!

---

Heya toots, how’s my favourite pin cushion doin’?

I’m alright, been better, been worse but mostly I been missin’ you. 

You are hard to get a hold of. It feels like you’ve been avoiding me. Been getting too cozy with those Stay Awake pills and your coffee brewer for my liking. Don’t you miss me? Or the fun we used to get up to? I know I do.

Me chasing you around, you screaming for your life, how scared you were trying to get away, clothes all ripped up, sweating and bleeding. You look so good like that. 

I think I might have had more fun doing it than you did. 

Do you need some different incentive to come back to ol Freddy? I think I know what might entice you back. 

It’s all about give and take, right? Can’t have allll pain with no pleasure and so far with us it’s been all pain, pain, pain. What if I promised some pleasure if you came back? 

You know those dreams you dare not speak about? Those truly indulgent, rich and decadent fantasies that permeate that precious brain of yours late at night? I have the power to fulfil every single one of them if I wanted to. 

I can only imagine the physical response reading THAT got from you. Did it make your breath catch and a certain part of you clench? I bet it did. 

So c’mon, stop playing these stupid games and give in. Fall asleep and back in my arms sweets, let me take care of you.

You can trust me, promise. 

Love, the man of your dreams.

[jack-kellys]

and the world will know that we’ve been here

(He doesn’t like thinking about her like this. Why is he thinking about her like this?)

out of left field, rizz writes a fic.

read it on ao3!