Fangirl Elite

Inner Me: Skip to the last page and read the ending

“You do not yield”

“Take it off, take it off, take it off.”

“Live, Manon. Live”

“The Lion will roar no longer, his life the asking price for defending his cub.”

One had a mountain lion standing on his back legs; and the other had the profile of a handsome, kind-faced Fae male, his hands up as if holding the door. Gold lined him and the lion like an aura.

concrete: *cracks*

peter, thinking about his abandoned nintendogs: almost enough to lift the weight of my sins, yes

peter: *picks up the hulk, yeets him 700mph at a flock of aliens* ANGERY SHREK ATTACK

Feyre:

Rhysand:

Amren:

Morrigan:

Azriel:

Nesta:

Cassian:

Tarquin:

Tamlin:

Lucien:

Rowaelin Arranged Marriage AU - Fic Masterlist

TRIGGER WARNING - This chapter deals with torture, kidnapping, and death. If you do not feel comfortable with any of these subjects, this chapter is not critical to the overarching plot. It is simply Aelin explaining her past and has no sway on how you will interpret the rest of the story if you choose not to read it. Please take care of yourselves. <3

Aelin’s senses wake up before she does and slowly begin to register things. The taste in her dry mouth is horrid. Her head pounds with the residue of alcohol. The sound of birds chirping outside her window grates her ears. And she’s hot. It feels like she’s sleeping under five blankets or in the midst of one of her wildfires. In that same groggy state between asleep and awake, she tries to kick off the covers—and instead hits a leg. A shin, to be precise, of a long, muscled leg attached to a large, burly body whose arms are wrapped tightly around her from behind.

In the second that it takes Aelin to fully awaken, she feels pure panic course through her veins, down her spine, and twist her very muscles into terrified tension. But then she smells Rowan—that sweet pine and fresh snow scent—and she hears his muffled grunt as he buries his nose farther into her hair. Her body unclenches and almost melts into him, almost lets his strong hold and heady scent lull her back to sleep in comfort and safety. Almost. Aelin’s brain catches up just in time.

He’s in her bed. This mass of pure Fae is laying beside her, taking up half of the huge bed, his legs just slightly entwined with hers, his breath cascading against the nape of her neck, his chest pressed against her back. Her back. Aelin cringes as she remembers her last waking moments the night before. That was decidedly not how she wanted him to find out about the ravages of her skin. And she’d been so out of it that she hadn’t been able to give him a coherent answer before she’d passed out.

méxico and argentina:

argentina: ni idea, pero es un pendejo (idk, but he is a pendejo)

méxico:

argentina:

argentina: 

arg: 

Trøllabundin eri eg eri eg Galdramaður festi meg festi meg Trøllabundin djúpt í míni sál í míni sál Í hjartanum logar brennandi bál brennandi bál

Trøllabundin eri eg eri eg Galdramaður festi meg festi meg Trøllabundin inn í hjartarót í hjartarót Eyga mítt festist har ið galdramaður stóð

English translation:

Spellbound am I, am I The wizard has enchanted me, enchanted me Spellbound deep in my soul, in my soul In my heart burns a smouldering fire, smouldering fire