#Rowan wouldn’t give two fucks

[justascrollingghost]

Celaena was who she had to be

Lillian was who she wanted to be

Aelin is who she is

This whole Sam loved Celaena, Chaol loved Lillian and Rowan loved Aelin stuff is completely missing the point - Rowan didn’t just love Aelin. Rowan loved who she was at her core. Sam and Chaol loved the pieces she gave them but Rowan collected all the pieces, made a fucking jigsaw and decided he was keeping it

[nozo-muu]

Hello Zero, Could you do a hot David Corenswet scene? the new Superman Something like him feeling jealous of the male reader.By the way, I would like to know if you write for DC too

Thank you so much for the ask! To be honest, I'm not the biggest DC watcher/reader so this might be ooc, but I tried my best. Also, I don't really write for DC since, again, I'm kinda out of the loop, but you can always ask!

YOU'VE CONVINCED ME, SUPERMAN

Pairing: Top!Superman/Clark Kent X Bottom!male reader

CW: Sex, Jealousy, Oral (reader giving), Ass eating (reader receiving), creampie?

Author's note: I don't know how to feel about this...

Metropolis was sunny as always. The sun beamed through the windows of the redaction office. Clark was working on a news article about a mysterious figure spotted multiple times over the last few weeks whenever chaos struck the city. 

He knew who that was, a vigilante he had “worked” with a couple of times to fight off some bad guys. He had to admit, he was talented, his energy manipulation magic was impressive. And the way he fought hand to hand… Gosh, it was a sight for sore eyes. 

“Breaking news!” He turned to watch the TV they had in the office. “An attack has been perpetrated on the intersection between Rowan and Mains Street. The attacker has already destroyed multiple police units.” 

Upon hearing that, Clark made his way towards the stairs that led to the rooftop. He needed to do something. Once he got undressed, revealing his suit, he leaped off the edge of the building and flew towards the place of the incident. 

The area was surrounded by police cars, trying to contain the danger, which honestly wasn't going to accomplish much. 

He flew down, landing on his feet. There wasn't that much mayhem… some upside-down cars, cracks on the ground, and some nearby stores with shattered windows. 

There was a figure though, a big silhouette, almost animal-like. It had shards of some kind of crystal all over its back.

“I would be careful if I was you” 

He looked around, seeing you levitating off to the side. 

“The bastard's got some strength. And those shards… Kryptonite maybe? I wouldn’t touch them if I were you.” You say, approaching the broad man beside you.

“Kryptonite? How is that possible?” 

“Beats me.” You shrugged. “As long as you don't attack his back, we should be good.”

He nodded understandingly, preparing his attack while you immobilized that thing with your magic. You could have gotten rid of the threat on your own perfectly, but you wanted to see him. He was so fine, it was like skipping dessert if you didn't look him up and down after a fight. 

The threat now being eliminated, you walked over to the police cars where a head of police approached you two. 

��That thing shouldn't cause any problems anymore. I've gotten rid of its body. There shouldn't be any more issues, officer.” 

Clark stood silent behind you.

“Thank you, thank you. I don't know what we would have done without you.” 

“You probably could have handled it too, I'm sure of that.” You replied smiling. 

There you were again, making small talk with some random guy. He didn't know why, but he hated it when you did that, always having flirty remarks and comments, and smiling at strangers. 

Some passers-by were shouting your names, and of course, you went and took pictures with them, smiling and being friendly. 

He hated it. 

Once everyone had started to dissipate, you went back to his side. He was silent…

“What?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Nothing, I just need to go get my clothes.”

“I'll come with you. We can go watch the sunset later or something.”

He grunted. He didn't want that, he wanted to fuck you then and there. To show you you were not about to go around flirting with everyone. You weren't together or anything, but he wanted you to be only his. 

When you landed on the rooftop of the building, he took his clothes and made his way towards a broom closet where he had been putting his discarded clothes to go pick up at a later date. 

That's when an idea crossed his mind. He quickly took your wrist and locked you both inside the broom closet. 

“What are you -” you get cut off by his lips on yours. He was a surprisingly good kisser. 

“Let me fuck you.”

“What?”

“Let me claim you.” He keeps kissing your neck. 

You moan at the sensation, and seeing that you're not pushing him away, he takes that as a yes.

He starts getting rid of his and your clothes, leaving you as naked as the day you were born in that dark room. 

He starts planting kisses all over your torso and neck, leaving some marks here and there to show that you are his. 

He slightly pushes your shoulders down, enticing you to get on your knees. 

You oblige and kneel in front of him, instinctively taking his member into your mouth. You started licking around the tip, slowly making your way down the shaft. The sensation made him tremble and groan…

You kept sucking his cock until you felt him push you away slightly. It was now all wet and ready, but your hole still needed some prep.

“Turn around for me.” 

You did as he asked, now facing the door separating you from the outside world. Clark got on his knees and spread your cheeks apart. He spat on your hole, slowly massaging the liquid around your entrance. He approached his face and started eating you out. Once he felt you were ready to take him, he got up, embracing you from behind and whispering in your ear.

“Can I fuck you now?” 

“Yes.”

He kissed you one final time before lining himself up with your entrance. He slowly pushed in, making sure to not hurt you. You moan at the feeling of it stretching your hole. He paused for a little so you could get used to the feeling of it.   

“Can I move?”

“Mmhmm” You nod, not being able to form a coherent sentence. 

He started moving slowly, but then sped up, remembering all those fuckers you had flirted with. In a way, fucking you was a win against those nobodies who thought they had a chance with you. 

The pace was perfect, rough but gentle enough to not hurt you. He kept hitting your spot, your cock leaking from the pleasure. For an alien, he sure knew how to fuck a man’s ass well. 

He then pulled away a little, turning you around.

“I want you to face me.”

You nodded, and he took you in his strong arms, pressing you against his muscular torso. You straddled him while being suspended in the air, his member lining up with your hole. He inserted it again, this time hitting deeper because of the position. He started kissing you while you bounced on him. 

He took your cock in his hand, and using the precum he rubbed your tip, before starting to stroke you while fucking you. 

“Clark…” You moaned in his ear.

“I’m also getting close, pretty boy.”

You kept that position until you both hit your climax. You came first, your cum coating his hand and your abs. 

“Can I cum inside?” He asked sultrily. 

You hummed, still kissing his neck and leaving the occasional bite mark from pleasure on his neck and collarbone. 

That’s when you felt it, the warm liquid filling your hole. He pulled out his thick member and rested you on a table as he kissed your forehead. 

“You okay?” He asked. 

“Yeah. You fuck like a pornstar…Damn.” 

He chuckled softly at the compliment. 

“That means you’ll only flirt with me from now on then? “

“Fine, you've convinced me, Superman.” 

He smiled. He officially had you for himself now. And if you ever started your little games again, he’d jealous fuck you again and again until you understood. 

[throneofsapphics]

let our bodies talk

Rowan x Reader x Ruhn

summary: Rowan and Ruhn help you deal with your guilt around sex, and take your virginity

warnings: virgin!reader, raw p in v (wrap it up everyone), religious guilt/shame, light hair pulling

word count: 3426

a/n: based on this request!

“Do you want us?” Ruhn finally asked, running a hand through his hair, the other toying with his lip ring. He pointedly ignored the silver-haired male staring at him like he wanted to chop him into bits and either sell them at the Meat Market or feed them to the creatures at the bottom of the Istros. 

Rowan had more patience and experience with immortality than he did. If you wanted him to wait another hundred years, he would, gladly, but he wanted to know what page you were on and he was ... well, he was used to having rather forward partners, he supposed. 

It started with him as an emissary to your world, and ended with this relationship he never could have expected, but would never change for a thing. You were everything he’d ever wanted and more. 

Your mouth parted, skin flushed, and eyes widened slightly. One of his favorite looks on you. “Of course,” the words came out quickly. Adorable. Everything about you was adorable. Cthona, he really was obsessed with you. “We’re together, aren't we?” You gained back a little bit of that attitude he loved. His mouth curved into a smirk. 

“Yes, love, we are.” 

“Ruhn is asking if you want to have sex with us,” Rowan grunted from behind you. You whirled around, not having seen him apparently. He shot you a slightly apologetic look. You were the only one who got those kinds of looks out of him, and it made Ruhn respect you even more. The male would bend over backwards for you. 

“I m- I mean yes, I do, I just ...” you trailed off uncharacteristically. 

Ruhn leaned forward in his chair, forearms bracing his thighs, Rowan rounded the couch to sit next to you, leaving a careful foot or so between the two of you. This conversation didn’t need touch, not right now at least. Ruhn stayed in his seat. Just talking about this, the idea of it, was making all sorts of unproductive changes to his blood flow. 

-

You sighed, glancing between the two of them. You wouldn’t get out of this conversation right now, at least not without them getting an acceptable answer. How do you even begin to explain your relationship with sex? When it's so complicated you barely feel like you understand it yourself? 

“Just listen to me, please,” you half pleaded, half ordered. They glanced at each other before turning to you and nodding. “I grew up with a lot of ... shame surrounding sex,” you could tell Ruhn was ready to interrupt and say fuck that, but Rowan fixed him with a look and although the male glared back he kept his mouth shut. Another time you might have laughed. “So as much as I fucking crave both of you, those thoughts are still trained into me. That its dirty, bad, against the gods wishes.” 

Rowan pressed his lips together at the last one, you knew it was ridiculous too - some of the gods were notoriously horny, after all. 

“So I'm a little ... behind because I avoided everything for so long.” 

“Are you a virgin?” Rowan asked, tone carefully neutral. If they cared either way ... well, then they wouldn’t be the males for you. 

“Yes,” you lifted your chin just a tad higher, trying to imbue yourself with some sort of confidence. 

“That’s not a problem for me,” Ruhn said, almost soothingly. 

“It shouldn’t be,” Rowan sent a warning look your way at the snip in your tone, and you glared right back at him. He held both hands up placatingly, almost in a ‘not policing you, I'm just trying to keep the peace,’ way. 

Ruhn caught your gaze, and you both burst into laughter, eyes lighting with mirth. Rowan snorted. Basically a roaring laugh coming from him. 

“Come here,” the unintentional dominance in Rowan’s voice bent your knees before you could think better of it. Not that you wanted to, not really. He patted the area next to him, giving you the option to close the distance. You did. 

You felt more than heard Ruhn move, as the couch dipped on your other side. You liked it here, pressed between them, your legs lining up from thigh to hip, just a few layers between your skin and theirs. The desire to remove the layers was there, but that old guilt crept in and tainted it. Your hand brushed the back of your neck, head tilting down, eyes trained on the floor. 

Ruhn caught your hand, bringing it down to rest on his thigh. You flexed your fingers, exploring the feel of the corded muscle beneath those jeans. His leg tensed, keeping hand settling over yours, keeping you still. 

“However long it takes,” he kissed the exposed side of your neck, “I'll teach you to not be ashamed of what your body wants.” 

“Of what you want,” Rowan added, running his thumb over your knee, his hand cupping your leg. 

“I want both of you,” you said the words quickly, as if they might never come out if you didn’t say them as fast as possible. 

“You’ll need to be a bit more specific than that,” Rowan’s eyes trailed you from head to toe, taking in every inch of your body. A hunger that you either hadn’t seen or noticed before flared. Tightness coiled in your stomach, you could arouse those kinds of feelings in them. You found you liked that power. 

“Relax, Rowan,” Ruhn drawled. The other male tensed. You smiled. “I think we can ask some questions, can’t we?” 

A muscle in Rowan’s jaw flexed, but he gave a short nod. 

Sometimes you wondered if you were the glue bonding them together, but they had a bond of their own outside of the one the three of you shared. Not sexual, but almost ... you couldn’t quite find a term to describe it. Maybe you’d invent one later. For now, they were capturing all of your attention. Questions. You knew what kind of questions they’d ask, but it didn’t leave you feeling any more prepared for it. 

“Has anyone touched this beautiful body before?” Ruhn breathed against your neck, his hand running down your thigh indolently. 

“You,” you said, a touch of something like defiance in your tone. One of them pinched your thighs lightly. Rowan. 

“It doesn’t work if you don’t answer our questions, love,” he said. 

“Not very well,” you sighed, throwing your head back to look up at the ceiling. Why did this have to feel so ... 

“These conversations aren’t meant to be smooth,” Ruhn reminded you. It gave you a bit of much-needed courage and you gave yourself a reminder. You loved these males, trusted them, and knew they’d never do anything to intentionally hurt you or make you feel upset. In fact, they’d usually do their best to make sure the opposite happened. 

“Did you like anything about their touch?” Rowan’s large hand covered part of your thigh, tips of his fingers digging in light enough to add a pleasurable pressure but avoid that edge of pain. Regardless, each of their touches felt like fire in your current wound up state and you doubted anything could douse it right now. 

“When it was over,” you said, honestly, and drew a laugh from each of them. 

“I promise you won’t want this to end,” Ruhn said. Tilting your head, blue eyes peered intently at you, full of heat and passion and desire. “I think we can figure out how to ask these questions without speaking,” he brushed the top of your thigh, playing with your hemline, “hm?” 

You arched towards him, hands reached out to grasp at his arms, tugging him closer, closer, closer, however you could get any contact with him. Something about his tone and words awoke a new desperation in you. The time for talking, for thinking, was over. 

Ruhn caught your hands. You frowned. He switched them to one of his and used the other to tilt your chin up. “If you want this to stop at any time, just say the word. Or tap a few times if you can’t speak.” 

“We won’t be angry or upset,” Rowan added. 

“If you were, I'd kick your asses. Before leaving them,” you grumbled.

Ruhn held his hands up. “I’m terrified,” he deadpanned. 

The pause gave space for ugly emotions to rear and infiltrate, invading your headspace. 

You heard the words of the priests and priestesses from your childhood, of your mother and father wondering what the hell you were doing before damning and cursing you. Doubt had no place in this room, but it found its way inside anyway. 

“I don’t think she wants this,” you heard Ruhn say, and your head snapped up. 

-

Ruhn hoped his gamble paid off and Rowan played along, that they could draw out your competitive side. 

Green eyes narrowed, but he said, “I’m afraid you may be right.” Rowan Whitethorn wasn’t afraid of a damn thing, but that wasn’t the point. 

“Yes I do,” you spluttered indignantly. That was the point.

“Show us,” Rowan challenged you. 

“I don’t know how,” your voice dropped to a furious whisper, and he wondered if you might call everything off. 

“Ask for help,” Rowan countered. 

“I thought we would do this without speaking,” Ruhn interjected. 

In unison, both you and Rowan replied, “that’s what you said,” and he bit back a grin. 

“One question then,” Rowan continued, “do you want us to fuck you tonight?” 

“Yes,” there was no hesitation, in fact eagerness in your tone. Bringing out your competitive side did work, and he noted that for later. 

“We’ll be gentle,” Rowan told you. 

You huffed. Ruhn titled his head, Rowan raised a brow at you. 

“I want you, not some watered down version of you - both of you.” 

“As you wish, my love,” Rowan murmured. 

“Your funeral,” Ruhn joked. 

“But I have one rule,” he sat up a little straighter at your words. 

“What is that?” 

“No magic,” you glanced between both males. “I just want you. Both of you.” 

-

“Very well,” Rowan acquiesced, not sounding too put out. “Come here,” he patted his thighs. After checking for Ruhn’s agreement to your ‘rule,’ you did. 

This part, this first step, you knew how to do. You’d kissed both of them before. Straddling him, you balanced yourself on the middle of his thighs. His fingers trailed up and down your sides, front, back, everywhere he could reach, brushing sensitive areas over your clothing. Brushing too lightly for how drastically your body seemed to react. Or maybe that was the point, less is more. 

‘Let go, stop thinking,’ you reminded and reprimanded yourself. 

It took you a minute or two to realize Rowan was waiting for something. For you to initiate. 

Leaning forward, you brushed your lips against his, mimicking the featherlight touches he was leaving on your body. Rowan wasn’t having it, and gripped the back of your head, winding his fingers through your hair before bringing you together. 

He stood, mouth still on yours, and you tightened your legs around his waist, locking your ankles, he wrapped one arm around your lower back, and snapped at Ruhn with his spare hand. 

The other male, understandably, snarled in return and you broke away from Rowan to hide your giggles into his shoulder. 

It broke the tension, and after a few strides from Rowan you were bouncing back on your bed, thrown there by him. Catching yourself against the headboard, it was your turn to glare. 

“That’s what you get for laughing,” Ruhn shrugged out of his shirt, and fuck your mouth watered. “My eyes are up here,” he teased you. 

“I thought we weren’t talking,” you snapped back. 

Not Ruhn, you could see all of him, but you felt another hand on the back of your neck. Rowan. Lips brushed against your ear, “I should just bend you over our bed and fuck you, but I think we can make it a little more enjoyable than that.” 

That sounded very enjoyable to you, and maybe scared you just a tad but not in an unpleasant way. Involuntarily, your thighs clenched. Ruhn’s chuckle told you he noticed. Heat seared your cheeks, the back of your neck, your chest. 

Half-naked, he climbed on the bed after you. Rowan stood next to the footboard, seemingly content to watch just for the moment. 

They seemed too coordinated and organized, in your opinion, and alarm bells flared in your mind and you scrambled with your hands to sit up. 

“Are you speaking to him?” You couldn’t fight the hint of accusation in your tone as you asked Ruhn.

“We’re making this enjoyable,” he pushed down lightly on your shoulders, “let us.” 

“Let go, love,” Rowan encouraged. 

You pursed your lips together in a frown, but nodded. You could let go, for tonight. Letting your hands slide out, your back hit the soft duvet cover again, the fabric silky against your skin. Relax. You were entirely capable of letting go. 

Ruhn’s lips hit your shoulder first, a soft and gentle kiss, before trailing down over your chest. The longer he went on, the firmer, you wouldn’t exactly call it rough, he got. Each touch grew more intense, his hands on your ribcage, pushing you down into the mattress as his lip ring flicked over your nipple. Teeth lightly grabbing the now swollen peak, tugging it up, drawing a gasp, before releasing. Testing how each part of your body reacted to different pressures and sensations. Learning you. 

He was good at this, you realized, with a hint of jealousy you quickly tamped down. Here and now, you reminded yourself. Focus. Capable. 

Lost in his touch, you didn’t notice the other male sliding in behind you until you were rising, your back pressed against his chest. Ruhn made a noise of discontent, like a kid with his candy taken away from him. 

“Ruhn’s going to fuck you first,” Rowan murmured in your ear, stroking down the side of your arm. “And when he’s done, I'll get to fuck that pretty little pussy, how does that sound?” 

“Great,” you barely managed to say. 

Then he was gone, out from behind you, and you were lowered onto the duvet again, head propped up on a pillow, Ruhn’s head between your - fuck. You lost all train of thought, all capability of thought as his tongue flicked your clit. Your voice left you as his lip ring, that beautiful thing, slid across your clit, a finger slipping inside and curling, putting just the right amount of pressure - and throwing you over the edge. 

Ruhn slowly worked you through your orgasm, adding another finger and twisting. You winced slightly at the stretching sensation. He stopped. 

“Just a little,” you panted, “uncomfortable. Keep going.” At the uncertain look on his face you added a, “please,” and that did the trick. 

He kept watching you intently, looking for every little change that might tell him something is wrong. But ... you didn’t feel the need to put on a performance. Instead, you found you liked the intensity he looked at you with. It made you feel wanted and desired in ways you never had before. It was bringing you to new highs. With another scream, your body melted into the mattress, legs falling limply to your sides. 

“I think she’s ready,” you heard Rowan. You nodded your agreement. Just a taste and you’d grown greedy, wanting more, more, more. All they would give you, all you could take. 

A belt clicked, clothes rustled, and you sat up on your elbows, impressed that even with the slight shake in your arms you could still hold yourself up. Maybe it was sheer determination to see Ruhn getting undressed that did it. It was certainly worth it. 

Licking your lips subconsciously at the sight of him, you realized he was pretty everywhere, including his cock. Near the same color as his skin, but with a glistening pink tip and a bulging vein running down the side, you wanted him in you. Now. 

“Get over here,” you breathed. 

“Bossy,” he said, raising his brows, but didn’t fucking move. 

Pressing your lips together, you saw a few avenues in front of you, and picked the one you figured would light a fire under him the best. 

“I guess I have to do it myself,” you sighed and let one arm slide out, snaking its way towards your center. 

It didn’t make it, not as Ruhn was there, catching your hand. “Not this time, princess.” 

His hand splayed against the backs of your thighs, pressing them up and to the sides as he knelt between your legs. 

“Breathe,” he ordered, and you’re glad you listened as he first pushed past your walls. Sharp pain hit your abdomen, catching your breath in your throat. 

An icy wind found its way down your throat, and you decided you’d thank Rowan, mentally, now and yell, verbally, at him later. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Keep going,” you hissed through clenched teeth. You might’ve had a lot of ... conflicting feelings surrounding sex, but that didn’t mean you hadn’t educated yourself. All the bodice rippers told you that the pleasure would kick in soon, that before you knew it you’d be overwhelmed by the “feel good” hormones. Gods you hoped they were real. 

He moved, but slowly. Lifting your hips to switch the angle, you gasped as he hit somewhere deep inside of you. That felt good. 

“That’s the spot, then,” he murmured, more to himself. 

“Fuck you feel good,” you moaned, nails clawing at his shoulders, searching for some kind of grip or anything to hold on to. He chuckled and lowered himself just enough you could grab them, before his hands spread against your sides, gripping you firmly. 

“Remember what you said earlier,” he paused inside of you. You wanted to scream at him. Instead you were left looking at his dumbly, eyes blinking. “About not wanting a watered down version of us. You’re still sure?” 

“Yes I’m sure, just fuck me or I'll-”

You didn’t get a chance to finish your words as he moved again, tilting your hips to that perfect angle before driving into you, over and over again. 

Not quite rough, but certainly not gentle, whatever he was doing was absolutely perfect, and as his fingers found your clit, you had your third - or was it fourth? - orgasm of the night. 

You actually whined as he pulled out, his eyes still open and fixed on you. He hadn’t finished. A pout started forming. 

As if he read the words in your eyes, he said, “someone else has been waiting for their turn, I’m sharing you tonight princess,” and jerked his head to the side. You followed the motion, and Rowan stood there, looking at you with pure hunger in his eyes. 

You swallowed. Louder than you intended to. Ruhn moved off you. 

“On your knees,” Rowan said roughly, but didn’t give you a chance before he gripped your hips and flipped you. Squeaking, your hands scrambled and slid before you landed on your elbows. His hand twisted around your hair, not pulling but gripping and tilting your head to look at him. “I still want to see your face, but it’ll be easier for you this way.” 

Easier? Just then, you realized you hadn’t gotten a good look at him, but based on how Ruhn went first you could put together a few things. 

“Alright,” you breathed. 

There was no hesitation from either side as Rowan slid in you, your body both welcoming and protesting him, your hips and thighs already beginning to ache, but you wanted more. A greedy little monster had begun to bloom in you. 

Both of them just felt right, in different ways, and you - 

“Eyes on me,” Rowan snapped. Your eyes flew to him, and his mouth indented at one corner in the way the stoic smile. “I said I wanted to see your face, love.” 

His hands gripped your hips. 

“See your pretty little face as you take my cock so well.” 

The words drew a moan from you, sending pleasure from the tips of your fingers to the bottom of your toes, making you push yourself back on him. Green stared at you, unrelenting as each slow, hard thrust nearly bounced you off him 

“Look how perfectly you’ve opened up for me,” he sounded almost teasing, “just like you were made for me.” 

Maybe you were, made for both of them as they were for you. 

-

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[areyouwell]

Necrophobia

Noun: An extreme and irrational fear of death. Those with this condition will do anything to avoid their own death or the death of somebody they love. But in the end, death is inevitable.

Ch.8, Ch.7, Ch.6, Ch.5.5, Ch.5, Ch.4, Ch.3, Ch.2, Ch.1 <–

Ch.9

Pairing: Mutant!Reader x Logan Howlet

Warnings: strap in and strap on folks, it's gonna be a long one... MDNI

Word Count: 29.7k (y'all wanted this as one chapter sooooo)

A/N: i actually can't believe this is it. like, this is the end of Phobophobia... how crazy is that? thank you all so much for the love and support on this series, it's been a while since i got back into fic writing so it means so much that you've all been reading along. i read and cherish every single one of your comments and reblogs, and now the only thing left to say is LET'S. FUCKING. GO.

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside @justice4billiam @holyhumorliteraturelight @cxptainbuck @sseleniaa @sadslasher13 @yallgotkik @whyamistillontumbler @maddiedinosaur @bethexo07 @pwpwppeepeoor @y08h

It would be two days later before you and Morgana could convince Erin there was no threat here, and that she was safe. Another day for her to be comfortable enough to let Charles come anywhere near her, let alone bring her memories back. 

“Give her time, darlin’. She’s terrified.” Logan would remind you, only to fuel your frustration. You didn’t have time. You needed her help to get Rowan and the others back, and the longer she refused to restore her memories, the more danger he was in. 

You sighed heavily after the umpteenth time Logan reminded you, leaning on the balcony overlooking the gardens. He’d found you pacing back and forth, clearly trying to remind yourself that Erin was just how you were before you had your memories. She was scared and alone and you didn’t know how to convince her she wasn’t. Erin was never your speciality. Atlas usually could get through to her, but he was still with Kreva, like Rowan, Joes and Naji.

Logan took his position by your side, leaning his forearms against the stone wall of the balcony, his bicep brushing against yours as you leaned your head on his shoulder, exhaling a breath. “I know she is. We all were. But fuck, this is taking too long, Lo’. We haven’t even started planning for the mission and it’s already been too long. I just…” you trailed off, gazing into the middle distance as your mind wandered back to your brother. He would always seem so big and protective outside the experiments, but you couldn’t count how many times you had to act out to protect him when the white, overhead lights hummed to life in those observation chambers. How many times had you taken the hits for him, just for him to be used against you as persuasion? 

Logan’s arm lifted to wrap around your shoulders, tucking you safely into his side. “I know, but Kreva won’t kill him. If anything, he’ll use him as bait to lure you back.” The idea had his stomach churning, because there was very little that could convince you to return other than to save Rowan, and he was almost certain that’s why Kreva sent Joes to retrieve just him. Because the bastard knew you wouldn’t leave him behind. He knew you’d go back for him. If it was just Naji, Joes and Atlas, perhaps you would trust their rescue to the rest of the team. But Rowan was your brother. Your flesh and blood. He’d been with you since the start.

You weren’t going to abandon him. Everyone knew that. 

“Would you lock me away if I said it would work?” You asked with a half-hearted smile, and he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, rubbing his hand against your shoulder. 

“Most likely.” He responded, revelling in your little bubbles of laughter. Just the weight of his arm around you was enough to ease some of the anxiety that had been your constant companion since waking up, the ever-present fear of what was going on beyond the walls of the school keeping you up at night. But Jade was right about one thing. 

You weren’t alone. Not anymore. Almost every waking moment Logan was by your side, keeping a watchful eye and jumping at the opportunity to provide for you. His warm embrace kept you sane even into the wee hours of the morning, never failing to stay awake with you when you had trouble sleeping. And these last few nights hadn’t been the most restful of your life. 

He could see it. Just how exhausted you were. You still had to regain the muscle you’d lost in the last two months, but that wasn’t what concerned him most. It was the dark purple bruises beneath your eyes that had him staying up with you, stroking your hair and engaging in murmured conversations until you’d finally fall asleep. Only to wake up an hour or so later, and take yet another lifetime to fall back asleep, by which point it was already morning and time for the two of you to start the day.

It was how he’d spent the last two nights with you, with you settled against his chest, staring at nothing in particular, talking about absolutely anything. It was a delicious slice of normalcy, certainly, but it worried him how little you were sleeping. And how hard you were training to get back to your muscular physique of before. He hadn’t seen you cook once, either. Though he supposed it had only been a few days, and it wasn’t like you had buckets of time to spare, between your lack of sleep, nutrition and overexerting yourself…

He didn’t really know what to do. What issue to tackle first. 

“You think any louder and Charles is gonna wonder what the hell’s going on,” you prodded lightly, nudging his side with your elbow. “How’re you holding up? We’ve spoken a shit ton about me but now it’s your turn,” Logan opened his mouth to tell you it didn’t matter, but you instantly cut him off, a glare sharpening your typical gaze of adoration. “And don’t lie. I mean it, Lo’. Let me in.” You placed a hand on the centre of his chest and he sighed heavily, clutching it in his own calloused palm.

“No lies?” He asked with a raised brow as if asking whether or not you really wanted this.

“No lies.” Your determined nod solidified that you were there for him, that you wanted to know how he was doing in the vague, possibly slightly selfish hope that it would make you feel a little better, or that perhaps there was a way you could help in some way, which would also make you feel better. 

“Total honesty?”

“Logan!”

“Okay, okay,” he huffed a laugh at your incredulous tone. He was stalling, to be completely honest. He didn’t want to open up about how this whole thing had affected him because he was so damn scared of making you feel worse, or, god fucking forbid, that you weren’t worth it. But he also knew you couldn’t stand lies. You’d had enough of those in your life, so the one thing he could give you now was honesty. Raw, weeping honesty. “I uh– It’s rare that I’m scared of anythin’. It’s happened, sure, but not often,” he ran a hand through his hair, and your thumb smoothed soft caresses against the centre of his chest. “But I don’t think I’ve been more afraid than when I thought I’d lost you for good,” his words came out a jumbled, murmured mess, but you caught them nonetheless. “An’ this ain’t over yet. We gotta go back for the others and ‘m fuckin’ terrified it’s a trap.”

“Logan…” you breathed his name with a sigh, resting your cheek next to the hand you held over his heart. His arms encased you in a home of pine-scented sinew, warmth seeping into your very bones.

“I don’t wanna lose you.” He whispered into your hair, and your heart cracked a little.

“I can’t say you won’t, because I don’t know what’s going to happen and I don’t wanna lie to you. I don’t know what we’ll find when we go back or how things will go down,” you paused, raising your head so your chin pressed into the dip between his pectorals. “But I can say, it’s certainly not my intention to die sooooo–”

“That makes me feel so much better.” He rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his tone as the vibrations of your laughter invaded his chest, causing a chain reaction within his soul. 

You let the hushed silence of the clouded late afternoon blanket the two of you, content to bask in his presence after being deprived for so long. He was everything to you. He’d been by your side ever since you’d laid eyes on each other, even if you weren’t the easiest person to get to open up. He’d forgiven you for lashing out. He’d forgiven you for trying to kill him. He’d forgiven you for everything you’d done before. You didn’t think there was anything you wouldn’t do for him, and his actions towards you proved the same. 

“Besides,” you continued after a little while, flexing your fingers ever so slightly, the shadows on the ground responding with obedience you hadn’t experienced in a long time. “I got all corners of my mutation back, so I’d like to see Kreva try anything, the sleazy little fuckstick.” From the silhouette of the balcony rose one of those figures Logan had seen you conjure in your sleep, though this time it wasn’t looking at you with any kind of intention. Rather it seemed to be waiting for your command, standing unnervingly still, shadows rising like smoke from its corporeal body. 

“That’s one less thing to worry ‘bout. Not gonna wake up to you having dissolved on me.” He shrugged, watching intently as the figure raised its hand ominously toward the two of you. Logan bristled, holding you tighter and turning you slightly, his teeth bared. He thought you had control of your mutation now, why the fuck was it–

That extended fist rotated to the side before giving him a thumbs up. 

“Gotcha.” You grinned wickedly, the figure dissipating back into the shadows and Logan looked down at you with utter disbelief, the smirking satisfaction on your face singing to his very core. Wordlessly, he picked you up, delighting in your squeal of surprise, holding you suspended above him like he would a misbehaving puppy. 

“Jail time.” Was all he said, holding you firmly as you squirmed in his grip, breathless bubbles of laughter bursting from your chest.

“Put– put me down, Logan. M’not– a dog.” You managed to gasp through fits of giggling, reaching down to hold his arms to steady yourself. 

“I could just drop ya.” He mused, unable to stem the smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

“Don’t you dare.” It was tricky to glare at him when thrilled adrenaline coursed through your system and you could barely stop laughing. Logan quirked a brow, pretending to debate whether or not it was a good idea to just let you go and watch you hit the floor, before his slight smirk grew to a full-blown grin, and his hands disappeared from your body.

You barely had a second to register your stomach launching into your throat, a frisson of excitement spiking through your system as you lurched down. Though you didn’t fall far until his arms caught you beneath your thighs, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, elbows hooked around his neck.

“Gotcha.” He mimicked your exact tone from not moments ago, and you huffed a breath against the side of his neck, still clinging on. Not out of fear he would drop you, but just because you could. You were here, you were back, and you remembered every perfect detail of the eight months you’d spent with him before Kreva snatched you away.

Withdrawing from the side of his neck, you brushed a stray dark hair from his forehead, glowing as he leant into your touch, your hand sliding to cup the side of his face, fingers gently scratching through his beard, drinking in every peak and valley of his features, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the quirk of his lips, the pinch of his brows. You devoured his visage as if it were the first time you laid eyes upon him. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He murmured, and you felt your heart swell three times its size. You didn’t know just how badly you’d missed him. Only since waking up again did you feel an empty ache in your chest in the rare moments he wasn’t by your side, only feeling whole again when he returned. It was overwhelming, your sheer love for him, your insides squeezing to make room for the remarkable amount of adoration you held for him. 

Logan panicked slightly when your eyes started to sparkle with unshed tears, fearful he may have said the wrong thing, or something that reminded you of the two months with him you’d just lost, but his heart settled when your lips moulded against his, your thumb smoothing his cheekbone with every languid movement. He held you tighter, his arms crushing you against his body as if at any moment he’d wake up, you’d be gone, and this was nothing but a dream. 

But you didn’t disappear, not as your lips parted for him and you sighed into his mouth, your arm shifting back around his neck to meet him with equal strength, your nails combing the back of his hair soothingly as if you could read his mind just as easily as Charles or Jean, feeling his fears and reminding him you were here. You were back. And you weren’t leaving him anytime soon. 

Pulling back a fraction, your breaths fanned his lips with each exhale, before your hushed words had his whole world igniting.

“I love you, Logan.” Your eyes shone with earnest as his gaze flickered between them as if searching for the indication that this really was nothing but a dream. 

He thought he’d have to die before he heard those words again. 

Fearful that his voice would crack if he responded, he set you down so he could thread his fingers through your hair and kiss you again with as much love as he felt in his soul, gasping through his nose when your fingers grazed up the sides of his ribs, muscles tensing beneath your tickling touch. 

“Sorry to interrupt your disgusting display of a happy relationship,” Logan almost growled in irritation at the sudden intrusion, reluctantly pulling away from you to raise eyes of daggers at Morgana’s smirking face, her arms folded across her chest as if she’d just caught two teenagers making out behind the bleachers at school. “But we’re gonna try again with Erin, not to convince her of anything, just to talk to her. Need your help,” she paused, gesturing to the both of you. “If you’re all done here, that is.”

You snorted a laugh at Logan’s irate furrow of his brow, and you knew it was taking a lot of his self-control not to bare his damn teeth at her. You placed a placating hand against the centre of his chest, feeling is heartbeat settle a tad before nodding to the redhead. “Sure thing. I’ll be right there.”

Satisfied with your answer, Morgana cast one last faux disgusted glance in the minimal space between you and Logan, before turning on her heel, her hair bouncing as she returned back inside. 

“The hell you will,” he seethed, his grip shifting from the side of your neck to your waist, holding you tightly. You flashed him a crooked smile, patting his chest gently.

“I doubt it’ll be a long conversation. Besides, I’ll see you for dinner, kay?”

“You’ll see me before dinner, darlin’.” 

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Your smile twisted into something a lot more mischievous, and Logan almost groaned aloud at the thought of what he’s now definitely going to do to you later.

“Why can’t it be both?” He responded, matching the lust dusting your tone. You bit your tongue behind your teeth, taking a step back before you cracked beneath his gaze and offered yourself to him then and there.

“You’re filthy, Howlett.”

“You love it.”

With a subdued chuckle, you turned away from him intending to follow Morgana to help her with Erin, before Logan’s broad hand wrapped around your wrist and tugged you back into him, not even giving you time to blink before his lips were on your in a lingering, passionate kiss. 

“I love you too.” He whispered, and you didn’t even try to tame your smile before he let you go, choosing to stay out in the fresh air a little longer, mainly to cool himself off. You had such a gift in riling him up that it was always difficult to hold himself back when he couldn’t have his way with you, so he opted to remain outside, erasing the risk of following you and throwing you over his shoulder to take you upstairs. 

“See you in a bit.” You pecked the corner of his mouth briefly before actually managing to get more than two steps away from him, the buzz of anticipation fading in your veins as you headed back through the doors inside, only half expecting him to race after you and do exactly what he promised.

“Surprised I could pull you away from your man for longer than three seconds.” Morgana grinned as you strode down the hallway, seeing her waiting outside Erin’s room, leaning against the doorframe with her arms still folded. You rolled your eyes dramatically.

“We’re not joined at the hip, but I was robbed of the last two months with him so excuse me if I’m a little clingy.” You shot her a faux glare, cut short by the way her face split with a toothy grin. 

“I’m messing with you. It’s real nice actually. I only ever saw snippets of you like this with Jade before you’d revert back to whatever emotionless shell you needed to be so I’m not complaining. Just jealous he got there before I did,” she winked and you slapped her arm with a light chuckle. 

This was the usual dynamic between you and Morgana, having lighthearted, occasionally flirty banter whilst living your ‘lives’ until you’d be taken for experiments. It was rare Kreva would take the both of you, but when he did, you always gave him one hell of a fight back. 

Maybe that was why he would usually separate the two of you. “So,” you continued, leaning opposite her against the doorframe. “What’s the plan this time? Since the last fifty conversations with her haven't worked, you got a new special approach? Or is this just gonna be failure number fifty-one?” 

Morgana placed a hand on her heart dramatically, her mouth falling agape as if you’d just insulted her meticulously preened appearance. “Okay, first of all, we’ve only tried like, what, five times max? Second of all, did you really think I’d drag you from your boyfriend for no reason and risk waking up with several claws stuck in my stomach? Fuck no. Of course I have a plan…” She paused, and you narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “Or… I will have a plan. When I think of one.”

“Morgo…” you sighed tiredly, dragging a hand down the side of your face. 

“Look, I can’t do this by myself. If Atlas was here, we could just hand this whole thing over to him and be done with it. But he’s not here, and we need Erin’s help to get him back. And Rowan. And Naji and Joes. And we don’t exactly have a cheat code when it comes to her like we did with you.”

“The fuck do you mean ‘cheat code’?” you asked defensively, a little insulted at the way she looked at you as if it was obvious. “Oh Logan is not a cheat code, that’s so unfair!” you protested avidly, pouting when she gave you another one of her looks. 

“We can talk about your complete lack of self-awareness at a later date,” you had half the mind to slap the girl. “And about the fact you somehow managed to back one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen in my life. Your descriptions did not do him justice, by the way.” She wiggled her brows and you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Can you stop thirsting over my partner, please?”

“What’s sex with him like?”

“Morgo!”

“Okay okay, I’ll stop,” she held her hands up in surrender, though her wicked grin didn’t fade in any way. “Fucking gatekeeping, so mean. Throw a girl a bone here… literally.”

“Oh my god.” You groaned, pushing up from the wall to slap your hand over her mouth. Unfortunately, she anticipated and nimbly stepped back before you could even approach her. 

“I can hear you guys outside… if you’re going to come in just do it already,” Erin called from behind the door. The poor girl sounded utterly exhausted, and your heart broke as you imagined her inside, most likely curled up in a corner, surrounded by nothing but hard, dead wood. Useless for her mutation. 

You cast Morgana a sheepish glance, an expression she mirrored, before unlocking the door and stepping through a little hesitantly. They’d made special precautions with her the same way they had with you. A lack of windows meant she had no sightline to the copious greenery beyond the mansion’s walls. All and any plant life had been removed from the room just to make absolutely certain she had no way of escape. It hurt, but you knew it was necessary. 

Necessary evils. How many times have you heard that phrase and genuinely believed it?

“Hey Woods…” Morgana uttered quietly, hoping in vain not to startle the girl. Not that either of you had even seen her yet. She seemed to be hiding somewhere amongst the furniture, or maybe under the bed. It hadn’t been the first time she’d hidden from either of you. “We don’t wanna try convince you of anything. We just wanna chat…” she continued warily, creeping around the side of the bed to where you both assumed she’d curled up. “We’re your friends, Erin. We don’t wanna– huh?”

Morgana stopped when she peered around the double bed to see nothing but empty space. You sidled into the ensuite, nudging open the door a fraction only to once again be met with nothing. “Erin, where’re you–”

You were cut off by the sound of hurrying feet behind you, the slamming of the door, and the click of the lock, barely having enough time to whirl around before you registered your absolute idiocy. 

“You’re fucking joking…” Morgana spat, crossing back to the door Erin had just locked behind her. “Very funny Woods, glad to see you’re feeling better. Now let us out.” She huffed, trying not to let her irritation seep through her voice. Though nothing but silence greeted her from the other side. Morgana tugged at the door a few times, but the oak refused to yield. Defeatedly, she took a step back, throwing you an apologetic glance, before her foot collided with the centre of the panels.

“Fucking ow!” She recoiled to your inappropriate amusement. She shot you a look darker than before. “I’m not the brawler okay? I don’t tackle shit as strong as this.” 

Rolling your eyes skyward, you flicked off the light switch before placing a hand on her shoulder wordlessly. Morgana’s eyes widened as panic flooded her face. “Nononono I hate it when you do this. Can’t you just sift outta here and unlock the door for me?” She pleaded, already skittish before you’d even partially dragged her into the shadow with you.

���Nope. Don’t have the time. It’ll only be two seconds. Promise.” You actually had no idea how long it was going to be, seeing as most of the mansion was drenched it light around this time of the afternoon, but you knew which room this was. And you knew the room above it. 

And it was rare that the room had much light in it at all. 

Not giving her a word of warning, you kept a firm grip on her shoulder as you pulled the both of you into the shadows, pulling on the strings of darkness to keep her consciousness with your own.

With the corporeal world nothing but the stark contrast between light and shadow, you felt your way upwards, through the little cracks between the ceiling and the floor above, weaving up through the crevices in the floorboards. You weren’t expecting the room to have so little options for where to materialise again, your consciousness writhing with the surprise of the bedside lamp being on. But you chose the dark corner by the wardrobe, pulling both yourself and Morgana through the various shadows across the floor and into the sizeable darkness against the wall. 

“Jesus Christ!” 

The last Logan had heard, you’d followed Morgana in the hopes of convincing Erin she wasn’t in any danger here. So he couldn’t contain the shock you gave him when you melted into his room from the corner, a dishevelled-looking redhead by your side. Were you trying to kill him? 

“Nope, just me. Sorry Lo’, didn’t mean to scare ya.” Though from the subdued grin pulling at your lips, he knew you definitely found no small amount of amusement in taking him off guard. 

You managed to suppress your light chuckle at his incredulous expression, choosing instead to tend to your friend who seemed to be struggling majorly with a bad case of motion sickness.

“Ugh… I don’t understand how you do that so often… I think I’d off myself if that was my mutation…” she managed to grit, holding her stomach as if she was about to throw up. You pointed her toward the bathroom just in case as Logan stood from his extremely comfortable position on his bed.

“Though you were talkin’ some sense into Erin. What went wrong?” His first instinct was that, immediately upon entering the room, Erin had most likely thrown something at the two of you and you’d retreated to rethink a strategy.

Though the silence after his query was deafening.

“She uh, she got out.”

Oh. Nevermind. This was a deafening silence. Logan swore he could hear your blood cells in your veins the room fell so quiet. “Whaddya mean ‘she got out’?” 

“Oldest trick in the book. One of the ones I tried and failed on you. Told us to come in, hid behind the door and bolted when we were far enough in the room.” You explained flatly, lifting Morgana’s hair from the back of her neck in an attempt to stem her queasiness. 

Logan swore lowly, instinctively checking you for injuries despite the fact you’d just reformed yourself from the shadow. He couldn’t stop himself. “Does Charles know?”

“The whole mansion will know in a moment. If she’s managed to get outside, it’s only a matter of time until–”

Almost as if Morgana was speaking the circumstance into existence, the entire room started to shake. No. Not just the room. The whole school seemed to shudder and groan, the sound of splitting wood resonating throughout the hallways and dorms, and you dragged Morgana back as a huge, knotted vine bloomed up from the corner, leaves sprouting as the vegetation started its takeover of the space. 

“Shit…” You hissed, bolting to the window and seeing the cause of the destruction. Greenery thrived around Erin, her arms outstretched towards the mansion, dolphin-fins of roots rising and resubmerging into the ground toward the building, veins of gnarled ivy spiderwebbing up the outside of the walls, sneaking in through the cracks between windowpanes and brickwork, before growing exponentially. The realisation hit you like a ton of bricks. 

She was trying to bring down the school. 

You flipped up the latch of the window before throwing open the panes and shoving your head through the leaves, your skin itching slightly as you realised it was no regular ivy. Not with the three-lobed points on most leaves, the slightly waxy texture of the surface. It was fucking poisonous. 

Of course it was.

You managed to set your jaw against the instant discomfort, pushing your way through until you could see the ground beneath. Shrouded in shadow. Good enough for you. You pulled back, only to feel a slight constriction against your throat from a snaking vine around your neck. You hissed at it tightened, flexing your tendons as if you could break free with sheer strength alone. But you succeeded only in tightening its hold, your airways becoming dangerously closed off. Thrusting your arms back through the new forest of the window, you held out your hand in desperation, instantly feeling the rough, calloused palm of Logan grasping your wrist.

You hadn’t given him time to ask what the hell you thought you were doing before you’d been completely shrouded in greenery, and the moment he saw your hand back through the expanding knots of vines, he was by your side, claws slicing through his knuckles as he started to slash and swipe at the writhing snakes. His arm wrapped around your middle, the razor tip of his claw dangerously close to your jugular as he tried to surgically remove the constraint, only to find himself being pulled in with you, itching leaves winding up his forearm and over his bicep.

Breathing became difficult, the lack of oxygen making your brain hazy and your movements slow. You felt like you were trying to inhale through a straw after running a marathon, every part of your exposed skin itching and burning from even slight contact with the leaves, red rashes already rising around your face and neck. You hadn’t really thought she’d try to kill you, or anyone for that matter. In all honesty, you saw this as a desperate attempt to stall everyone before she made a run for it. Not kill everyone inside the goddamn school. Your oxygen-starved mind sluggishly thought to the kids in their classrooms, how terrified they must be, and you fucking hoped Storm or Scott had already started evacuating them as your vision started to tunnel slightly, your mouth agape in a futile attempt to draw breath. 

“C’mon…” Logan groaned with effort as he managed to wrench his arm free of the vines, nicking the side of your shoulder with his claws as he did. He didn’t have time for the instant, overwhelming feeling of guilt before he started desperately slashing again to get you free. Silver clashed with emerald with each savage claw until a soft hand got in his way, blood splattering across the wall. 

“Fuck! Those things are fucking sharp!” Morgana cried out, scarlet leaking from the deep slice across the back of her hand. Logan looked at her as if she’d completely lost her mind. 

“The fuck’re you doing?!”

To his chagrin, she just rolled her eyes, before the rivulets of blood running down her arm started to rise and expand, weaving through the now all-consuming wall of poison, staining the beige vines deep red. In his panic, he’d completely forgotten her mutation. It was deliberate. Her getting in the way. It had been on purpose. Understanding her plan, he sheathed his claws and wrapped his other arm around your middle, his grip like steel as, all at once, a sheet of blood exploded from just beyond the window, slicing through the snaking tendrils, useless ends falling lifeless to the floor.

Like a drowned man rescued from the water, you gasped a deep inhale, feeling yourself be tugged backwards from the crimson display and into a tight embrace that was, whilst unhelpful for your breathing, extremely helpful for your panic. You’d have been humiliated if you’d survived everything Kreva had put you through only to die became Erin was too fucking stubborn for her own good. 

“Y’okay?” Logan asked, concern dripping from his voice as he smoothed your hair from your face, wincing as he caught sight of the angry rashes around your neck and across your collarbones, winding up to frame the sides of your cheeks and brow. You couldn’t stop your nails dragging across the unholy itching in an attempt to soothe it, pulling loose bits of skin as you scratched fruitlessly. 

“Shadows…” your voice was raspy, and you felt like you’d swallowed a bag of nails, a bolt of pain shooting through your vocal cords as you tried to speak again. “Need shadow.”

Logan shifted into the path of the lamp and you dissolved into his silhouette instantly, returning only a beat later looking no worse for wear, though fury furrowed your brow and had your jaw tense. 

“Y’okay?” He asked again, only this time he felt a sense of calm seeing you unhurt. Your rage intimidated him only a little, but at least you were breathing this time. 

“M’fine. Fucking bitch. The fuck does she think she’s doing?” You seethed, casting a glare out the now-covered window as if you could kill her with your mind. Morgana huffed abruptly, still in control of the stained glass made of her own blood. 

“What exactly was your plan there? Or was almost suffocating to death a way of trying to get her to see what she the consequences of her actions?” She asked savagely, sliding her now glowing eyes to you and you could feel her irritation at your actions. 

“I was trying to see if I had a quicker way down to her. And I did, until she tried to fucking kill me.” You braced your hand around your throat as if you could still feel the constrictions around your neck. 

Seeing your phantom discomfort, Logan brushed the back of his hand against the one on your throat, a silent reminder that you were safe again. You laced your fingers between his, another silent way of communicating your gratitude, before once again returning to look beyond Morgana’s barrier. 

Unspoken agreement passed between the room, Morgana leading the way as the three of you sped down the stairs, shouting to any passersby to use the passage and get the hell out of there. You almost collided into a panicking Artie, clutching a small stuffed toy in his hands as he looked around desperately for Jubilee. At least you assumed he’d be looking for Jubilee, she’d taken on the role of protector for the boy, though not being that much older herself. 

You crouched and enveloped him in a tight hug, relieved to see he was unharmed. Though through the rushing crowds, it was difficult to make out specific faces. Until a shock of white hair bobbed through the heads of students, Storm managing to fight her way through the throng and in your direction. 

“How did this happen?” She asked by way of greeting, taking Artie from your arms and tucking him into her side. Shame and guilt tightened your gut. You couldn’t help but interpret her question differently. How could you let this happen?

“She got passed us,” Morgana stepped in, placing a hand on your shoulder and no doubt feeling exactly the same as you. “We weren’t careful enough. But we’re gonna fix it. We’re gonna fix this. We just need to get out there.” She nodded to the covered window where you knew the source was. Ororo sighed gravely.

“There’s only two ways this can go. Make sure it’s option one.” Was all she said, before guiding Artie down the hall and disappearing into the thinning crowd. At least most students had managed to get out, though you could only pray none of them had touched the leaves. You clenched your jaw, Storm’s words sinking in. 

She was right. There were only two possible ways this could go. You could convince her she was safe here, and that you all really were trying to get back and rescue the others.

Or you had to kill her. 

A glance at Morgana told you she’d realised the same, her eyes staring unblinkingly at the floor as she processed what the two of you might have to do if you couldn’t get through to her. “It won’t come to that.” You tried, but it was hard to sound convincing when you weren’t entirely convinced yourself. 

But she went along with your false confidence, choosing instead to gaslight herself right alongside you. “Yeah… it won’t.”

It broke Logan’s heart to see your desperation to fix things. To see the guilt etched into the crease of your brow. Broke him further as he watch the both of you understand that you might really have to kill her. You were torn between trying to save your old family and protecting your new one, he could feel it in his own damn soul. 

You couldn’t be battling with yourself like this right now. You didn’t have the fucking time. People were getting hurt and it was your own damn fault. And the familiarity of the situation flipped something in your brain. All at once, the hesitation you’d been feeling disappeared. Concern faded away. Fear locked up. You had a damn job to do. 

“Cut through the vines like before.” You instructed Morgana, steel icing your tone as you weaved through the stragglers, making a beeline for the double doors that normally would have led out into the gardens. Only right now they led into a wall of vines. 

“I uh– yeah, s-sure.” Logan watched recognition dawn on Morgana’s features, a deep sadness flickering in her eyes as she used her fingernail to reopen the wound on the back of her hand, hissing slightly at the hurt, before blood rose from the gash and seeped beneath the door, solidifying and slicing the climbing vines at the base, creating an opening for you. 

With a flick of your wrist, eight separate figures rose from the shadows around you, gliding to your side and waiting with obedient anticipation. Logan’s stomach dropped as darkness slid up your leg, across your abdomen and settled over your face, solidifying in a glassy, thin mask. Morgana gasped weakly, shaking her head at your new visage in a way that had a kernel of concern bubble in Logan’s chest. 

“I’m sorry if I have to kill her.” There was nothing apologetic in your tone. If anything, it sounded like you were completely devoid of emotion, lacking both empathy and compassion for your best friend as you stepped through the threshold and onto the balcony, your shadows following like dogs. 

“Is this–” He started before Morgana cut him off. 

“How she was before? Yeah…” She confirmed quietly, splitting her concentration between maintaining her mutation and watching you jump nimbly from the balcony onto the grass, striding toward Erin, your shadows in tow. “This was how she coped. All those missions. All those victims. This was how she kept going. It wasn’t solid, and she would break sometimes, but she’d just get better at it. And who’s better at hiding than someone who’s made of the dark?” 

His chest constricted with the realisation that, in the relief and disbelief that he really had you back, he hadn’t truly processed everything you’d remembered. You hadn’t been given the time before you launched straight into trying to help the girl you now might have to kill. And when you released your emotions again, when you let down that wall and they all flooded in, he couldn’t stand by and watch as you relived the moment you ended her life. 

He promised he would keep you safe, and he failed. He promised he wouldn’t leave you, and he’d failed. 

But he’d promised he’d find you. And he promised he’d protect you. Even if that meant from yourself. 

“Stay here, help them in any way you can.” He told her, before following where you’d leapt from the balcony. If he could save you the emotional turmoil of having to kill Erin, he would. And if that meant he had to kill her himself and have you hate him forever, he’d be okay with that. But you’d been through enough shit, you’d been made to feel like a monster because of the things you were forced to do.

Not this time. 

“ERIN!” Your voice echoed off the trees, bouncing back to you as you strode toward her, eight smoky figures fanning out behind you, the manifestation of each member of your family. Their heads twitched skittishly as if understanding their purpose in the situation, waiting for the command to rip. To tear. To wreak havoc.

Erin’s outstretched hands faltered, her eyes focussing back to you as the snakelike roots halted, the blooming of flowers and weeds around her feet stalled. She bit back a bitter laugh.

“All this time. You’ve been tryna convince me they helped you. They saved you. But look at you. You’re worse now than when we were back with the others. You tell me Kreva did some fucked up shit to us, which I can fucking smell is bullshit,  but look at what they’ve done to you.” 

Her words fell washed over you like water from a duck’s back, ignoring every pathetic attempt to make you feel bad about what you were. You felt the pull on the threads of your puppets, felt their yearning to make her suffer for what she’d said, but you held them back, tightened their leashes until they came to heel. 

“This was always who I was, Erin. I’ve only changed from your perspective because you don’t know who you are. Who any of us are. Not really Do you really think we spent the last ten years living in harmony? Going to work, coming home, meeting the neighbours, drinking and watching movies? People like us don’t get to have that life.” You were losing patience already. If she wasn’t going to calm down and come to her senses, you’d have to neutralise the threat. The figures shuddered with excitement. 

“Do you know how fucking crazy you sound? When you’re trying to tell me the last twenty years of my life have been a lie? Naji replaced all our memories? He wouldn’t do that,” She shouted desperately, roots and vines around her feet snaking and writhing in response. “Whatever happened to the flat… what happened to Atlas… I can’t explain it. But if we go back, if we go back and just talk to whoever that was, he’ll set them free… He has to…” she pleaded, and you took a steady step forward. “That’s why I have to do this. I can’t abandon him. I have to help them, but I have to help them now. I don’t trust these people. I don’t know these people. Look what they’ve done to you. To Morgana. I can’t let them do the same to me. Not whilst he’s still in danger.”

You tensed your jaw against the sudden wave of melancholy that broke through your walls, pushing it back as hard as you could, your face falling neutral again behind the mask of shadow. “What do you think we’re trying to do here? He’s got Rowan, Erin. He’s got my fucking brother. And I know the kinds of things Kreva will do to him because I remember. That’s what we’re trying to help you to do. To remember so we can form some kind of plan. But if we have to do this without you,” You paused, raising your hand slightly. “So be it.”

Before you can flick your wrist, a large, calloused hand wrapped around your palm, stopping you in motion. 

“Don’t,” Logan growled lowly, though there was no threat in his voice. You clenched your jaw again, testing his strength only to find your wrist held fast in his grip. “This is not what we do.”

You shook your head. “No. This isn’t what you do. You wanted to know what would change when I remembered. Here it is.” You raised your other hand, quickly flicking your wrist before he could catch it, and eight figures walked forward, heads twitching as they went. 

“Call them off.”

“She’s a threat.”

“Call. Them. Off.” He urged, eyes hardening. “Now.” He could see your eyes flicker behind the mask as if something was fighting to get through. You glanced back to where Erin had crouched, arms outstretched in preparation to fight back. She was a threat. The mansion was under attack.

And it was all because of you. 

“I have to put a stop to this.” Your steely voice started to bend, cracks peaking through the shell. Logan caught it instantly, tugging on that small thread you’d left exposed.

“Not like this. You don’t wanna do it like this. Call them off, Firefly.” He heard your breathing stutter, eyes widening as the mask from your face melted away. He dropped your hand, his palm sliding up the side of your neck to cup your face, acutely aware of how close the shadows were to Erin’s location. “Not like this.” He muttered softly, and your resolve shattered. You lowered you hand, splaying your fingers as the figures dissolved into nothing, returning from their positions back up the balcony and through the door where you pulled them from. 

“I–”

“It’s okay. I know. I know.” He pulled you in, cupping the back of your held to hold you beneath his chin, his fingers coursing through your hair, a strong sense of comforting calm soothing the sudden, immense wave of guilt. 

“This is real… isn’t it?” Erin asked quietly, her own resolve seemingly breaking apart. You cracked your eyes open, pulling back ever so slightly to look at her exhausted form, nodding in confirmation. 

“Yeah. This is real. We haven’t lied to you, Erin. We wouldn’t lie to you. Not about this. Not about your life. Who you are. You’ve had enough lies told to you. And Charles can help you sift through what was real and what wasn’t. Just let us help you.” You implored, stepping from Logan’s embrace and toward her, holding out your hand in an entirely different way to before. “Please. You’re my family, Erin. Let me help you.” 

Her toxic green hair fell in front of her face as her head dropped, small sobs shaking her shoulders, and you were by her side as her knees buckled, arms around her frame before she fell to the floor. 

“It sucks. I know. We both know, me and Morgana. We know, but it gets easier. It’ll get easier once you remember. I promise.” Despite the horrors of your own past, it had gotten easier once you were restored. You knew who you were, and you’d come to terms with the things you’d done. You know Morgana had too. And you knew Erin would be the same. 

“‘Morgana and I’…” she corrected weakly, and you raised a brow.

“Huh?”

“It’s Morgana and I. ‘Not me and Morgana’.”

You chuckled slightly. “Well excuse me grammar police.” Your heart soared as she hiccuped a laugh, raising her head to look at you, her eyes shining, tears staining the sides of her cheeks. 

“I’m sorry…”

You offered her an empathetic smile, your brows creasing. “I know. We all are. For everything. Remembering isn’t easy, and it’ll fuck you up for a few hours, but you’ll be okay.” You brought her into your embrace, soothing gentle caresses against her shoulder. “We all will. And we’re gonna get the others back too. I promise.”

“You make a lot of promises now.”

“Cuz I know I can keep ‘em.” You felt her laugh again, sniffing into your collar before removing herself from your arms and standing up. 

“Guess I should probably do something about that…” You turned back to where she was looking at the mansion, overtaken with greenery and wrapping vines, briefly catching Logan’s proud gaze on you. 

“And easy fix. Don’t worry. We have telekinetics for this kinda thing.” You shrugged, getting to your feet as Erin raised her palms, the school creaking with relief as the invasive vines snaked back into the earth with a slight hiss. The moment they disappeared from the doorway, Morgana came sprinting out, racing down the stone steps.

“Everyone okay!?”  She called out, her footsteps pounding on the grass as she all but tackled Erin into a hug, the girl barely able to maintain her footing. 

“We’re fine, Morgo. Just an intense reality check.” Erin responded from where she’d been buried in Morgana’s hair, spitting out small strands as she spoke. “I uh… I’m sorry for causing such chaos. I was just scared, I guess.” She explained meekly, and Morgana only tightened her grip. 

“It’s okay. We both did the same. Not mansion-crushing poison ivy kinda same, but we weren’t exactly quiet either.” She responded brightly, placing both her hands on Erin’s shoulders. “You ready to remember?” She asked, and Erin nodded slightly. 

“Think so… need to see Charles, right?” 

“Right. He should be downstairs keeping track of the students. They’re probably on their way back now actually.”

“Way back?”

Morgana scratched the back of her head, almost sheepish to admit what Erin had caused. “We uh, sorta evacuated the school. Ya know, poison ivy and stuff. Not great for kids.”

You watched them continue their conversation, Morgana’s arm tucked tightly in the elbow of Erin’s, the two girls seemingly thrilled one of them wasn’t trying to kill the other. You smiled slightly before it faded with the realisation of what you almost did. What you almost robbed the both of them of. 

“‘M prouda ya,” Logan said, tucking you safely against his chest. But you just sighed, resting your temple against the beat of his heart.

“I almost killed her, Lo’. Not sure that’s something you should be proud of.” You retorted a little savagely, clearly shamed by your actions. Logan’s heart clenched.

“But you didn’t. You snapped out ‘ve it and chose option one.”

“And if you weren’t here, Erin would be dead and Morgana would be devastated. And I don’t even wanna think about what it would have done to me…” You closed your eyes as he tilted your head up to look at him, lids fluttering open when his thumb smoothed your brow.

“Then it’s a good job I’m here, isn’t it?”

“And if this happens again?”

“I’ll be here for that too. Not gonna let you go, darlin’.” He murmured into the top of your head, pressing a kiss to the crease between your brows and you felt the tension melt from your bones. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, your arms winding around his neck when you felt his lips graze yours, mouth parting instinctively for him. His arms settled around your waist, holding you tight not dissimilar to the way he held you earlier, before this whole thing. 

Fuck, how did he breathe the last two months you weren’t with him?

‘I hate to interrupt,’ You both exhaled an irritated sigh as Charles's voice echoed in both of your minds. ‘However, once Erin’s memories are restored, we have a meeting and I would like the both of you to be present. We start planning today.’ 

Though the intrusion had been unwelcome, once again, a buzz of anticipation flooded your veins. Finally, you’d start forming a plan to get the rest of your family back. Finally, you could start thinking about getting Rowan back. You didn’t have to pace anymore. You didn’t have to think about what he was going through at Kreva’s hands anymore. 

You were coming for him. Coming for all of them. And you promised yourself you’d make Kreva wish he was never fucking born. 

The meeting didn’t go as planned at all. Two weeks. Two fucking weeks. That was how long Charles had said it would take to gather significant intel and stage a rescue mission. It was too fucking long. Who knows what Kreva would be capable of in two weeks? Two weeks! Fuck’s sake. 

You threw open the door to your room, rage burning through your system. You were ready now. Fuck, you were ready two fucking days ago, before you’d even got your memories back. You couldn’t wait another two damn weeks. It was too long. Far too long. 

Maybe you could head out on your own. Take Morgana and Erin with you and just go there yourselves. No plan, no backup, just the three of you. You didn’t particularly like the odds, but it was better than just sitting around and waiting. You were back to pacing, back to laying awake at night thinking. Worrying. Two fucking weeks.

“These things take time,” Logan attempted to placate from behind you, softly shutting the door as he watched you restlessly march back and forth, your hands tangled in your hair. 

“Is that what they told you when it was me they were looking to rescue? Is that what you convinced yourself when it was my life on the line?” You spat back, tone savage as your mind spun, uncaring of how cruel you sounded. You couldn’t tame your tone. Couldn’t tame your fury. And whilst in the back of your mind you felt bad Logan was the one taking the brunt of it, there that feeling stayed. In the back of your mind.

He sighed, understanding perhaps more than anyone how difficult this was. “No. I was thinking the exact same things as you are now,”

“Oh yeah? Didn’t know you were a telepath. What ‘m I thinking then?” You barked, barely pausing long enough to shoot him a glare before you resumed your fruitless pacing. 

“That you should just head out yourself. That it would be easier to do this alone. That they’re being too fucking cautious and you should just storm the place yourself, nobody behind you.” He explained exactly what was running through your head, almost word for word. Huh.

Maybe he was a telepath. 

Or maybe you were just two halves of the same soul. 

You huffed a sigh, sitting heavily on the edge of the bed, your leg bouncing with pent-up energy. “I’m assuming you didn’t do that.”

He shook his head, taking his rightful place by your side, a broad hand settling on your bouncing thigh. “No. ‘cause I knew the best chance of gettin’ you back safely was to wait. It fuckin’ killed me, don’t get me wrong, but it was worth it. ‘Cause I did get you back. It worked and you’re here now because of it, not in spite of it.” 

You rested your head atop his shoulder, trying to calm the electric adrenaline coursing through your veins. “I’m scared, Logan. The things Kreva did in the two months… it felt like a punishment. I’m fairly certain it was a punishment. And now I’ve escaped him, I know he’ll be taking it out on Rowan.” You closed your eyes, fighting against the images flashing through your brain. Bloodied scalpels, exposed organs, your own arms tearing at the restraints on your wrists. 

“What did he do…?” He asked quietly, his hand squeezing your thigh slightly. You shook your head. 

“I’ll spare you the details, but it was some fucked up autopsy kinda thing. Only we were alive. And fully conscious. Ya know, average Kreva things.” 

Fury curled in his gut, and he tensed his jaw to keep from snarling. The moment he got his hands on Kreva he’d delight in tearing him apart. He hated the way you said it so nonchalantly, though he knew it was a way you coped. You had to normalise it in your head, at least for most of the time. 

“Christ…” 

“Yeah… so I got a few new scars to commemorate the occasions. Fun, huh?” You nudged him gently, and he rolled his eyes. He didn’t quite have the same devil-may-care attitude as you did to your scars, both mental and physical, but he could appreciate the way you managed to find humour. No matter how dark it may be. 

“You’re insane.”

“Mhm? You spend almost a century with psychopaths prodding and poking you, see how sane you turn out.” You provoked with a small, mischievous grin, and he genuinely found himself wondering how you managed to be so fucking perfect for him. His body hummed with yearning, fingers dancing across your thigh and he watched your eyes grow heavy-lidded, turning your head to inhale into this side of his neck. “Logan…” you whispered, and he could hear that exact same yearning he felt in his bones against the shell of his ear. 

His fingers inched towards the crease between your thighs, your body heating up in response to his delicate touches, your lips peppering kisses against the side of his neck. He suppressed a groan when your nails dug into his forearm, leaving little crescents that quickly faded. 

Becoming impatient with his teasing, you swung your leg over to straddle his lap, settling yourself on his growing arousal, your fingers dragging lines of flame up the muscles of his back, scratching beneath the white singlet. 

He couldn’t stifle his reaction to your touch, mouth falling open with a quiet moan, his hands coming to either side of your waist, holding you down as you slowly rocked onto him in a vain attempt to ease the ache between your thighs. You hadn’t had sex with him yet since your memories were restored. If Logan was being honest with himself, he was a little afraid of triggering something for you, but the way you panted softly against his lips showed him you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. 

“You sure?” He murmured, inhaling your scent from the dip between your shoulder and collarbone, shuddering as your familiarity washed over him, combining with the sweetness of your arousal. How did you always smell so fucking good to him?

“Do I not seem sure?” You shot back teasingly, pinching the shell of his ear between your teeth and tugging a little deviously. Logan huffed a heated breath against your temple as your hands placed firmly against his chest, pushing him until his spine settled against the comforter atop your bed. You teeth sank into your lower lip, your hands skirting up beneath the white singlet, mapping the plains and valleys of his abdomen with your fingertips, scratching down the sides of his ribs, his muscles contracting and relaxing with you exploring touches. You wanted him so fucking badly. You had been wanting him so fucking badly for the last two days, but you respected his self-control to hold back. You knew he was waiting for you, and you were eternally grateful for his consideration. However, the amount of times he’d unintentionally left you high and dry was driving you up the goddamn wall. 

You stood from his lap, hooking your fingers beneath the hem of your t-shirt and making a show of pulling it from your body. It didn’t matter what you were wearing. Whether you were dressed to the nines or hanging out in your sweats and a hoody, Logan always made you feel hot as fuck. The way his eyes would shamelessly roam your body, scars and all, made you feel like you never needed to hide from him. Everything about you was desirable to him. It was part of the reason you loved him so fucking much. 

Discarding your t-shirt to the floor, your fingers deftly pulled down the zipper of your jeans, swaying your hips as you tugged them down. How you managed to elegantly step from the pool of tight fabric would always be a mystery to him, but a mystery he would attempt to solve at a later date when you weren’t standing before him in nothing but your underwear. You weren’t kidding earlier when you told him you had a few new scars. His mouth watered with the need to run his tongue down the newest one starting from just above your left breast and finishing beneath the right-hand side of your ribcage. He didn’t even want to know how you got that, but he assumed it might have something to do with the live autopsy you were talking about earlier…

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You quipped cheekily, placing a hand on your hip as if to pose for him. Left in just your bralette and bikini pants, Logan had to check himself to make sure he wasn’t fucking drooling as he sat up, shrugging off his plaid shirt and pulling his white singlet up over his head, dumping them both at the foot of your bed. 

“C’mere,” you squealed as he lurched forward, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist to tug you between his spread legs, his cock already throbbing for you, calling needily for attention he would ignore. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, ya know that?” He murmured against your stomach, nipping sharp little marks into your skin, his tongue tracing that new scar up to where it disappeared behind the fabric of your bra. “S’in my way.” He muttered almost to himself, a hint of irritation lacing his tone as he shoved it to bunch up above your breasts. Your snorted a laugh before pulling it up over your head, tossing it to the small pile of clothes you’d left on the floor.

“Better?” You asked, amusement woven through your tone. Logan shook his head, the tips of his fingers tracing the elastic of your underwear, making you shiver.

“No. Still in my way,” he snatched the hem with his teeth, pulling it back before letting it go with a snap against your hips, leaving you gasping for something more. With a sly, wicked smile, Logan released the constant tension he had on his claws, letting one slip through the gap in his knuckles, tracing the back of the warm metal along your inner thigh. “Didn’t forget about this…” he whispered against your skin, eyes torn between concentrating on what he was doing and watching what it did to you, your back arching toward him as he slotted his claw in the apex of your clothed cunt, biting back a grin as you all but ground against the blunt edge. 

“Such a fucking tease.” You hissed, your fingers winding into the soft, brown locks of his hair, nails digging into the top of his head, pulling a low groan from the back of his throat. You grinned to yourself, tugging harshly on the threads woven through your fingers, earning yourself yet another wanton growl. If he was gonna tease you all damn evening, you’d be damned if you weren’t gonna tease him right back. 

Logan angled his claw down slightly, giving you further room to grind down against it simultaneously making sure he wasn’t in any danger of cutting you at all. That wasn’t something either of you had explored yet, and whilst he was okay with you toeing the line of danger, he wasn’t quite open to hurting you. Not yet. Not when he just got you back. Hurting you was the last thing on his mind. “C’mon princess, use me.” He encouraged lowly, his other hand guiding your hips in slow, languid strokes, pressing his thumb against your hip bone. You whined at his words, sandwiching your lips between your teeth to deliberately deprive him of your sounds. You knew he fucking loved it when you moaned for him, you knew he loved it when he could hear just how well he was treating you. 

Not today. Not if he was going to do nothing but fucking tease you.

He could feel the heat from your soaked cunt, feel every slick movement as you soaked the crotch of your bikinis. All that from the slightest pressure from one of his claws. The implications had his mind spinning. He had an inkling you were locking your sweet noises away from him on purpose, but Logan was nearly always up for a challenge. Removing his claw from your apex, he deftly sliced through the elastic of your pants, growling a chuckle as you gasped again. Sliding to his knees, his palm grabbed the meat of your thigh, shamelessly throwing your leg over his shoulder, exposing your glistening centre. 

“Gonna make you fuckin’ scream, darlin’.” You barely had time to think of a witty quip back before his tongue gently nudged between your folds, hot pleasure spiking through your veins as his nose nudged your swollen clit. You sucked in a harsh breath, your fingers tightening their hold on his hair, twisting through soft locks to hold him in place. Logan’s eyes rolled back behind closed lids, lapping up your sweet nectar with his tongue. 

You couldn’t hold back your guttural moan when his mouth settled over your throbbing pearl, sucking gently against the sensitivity. Your spine curled around his head and you had a front-row seat to the way the muscles in his back tensed with the effort to not throw you on the bed and pick you apart. He snarled hotly when one of your hands left his hair to claw up those same tensing muscles, earning yourself a harsh suck against your clit, vibrations from his voice sending little waves of ecstasy through your system. 

“Logan…” you breathed airily, your tone pitching with a whine when his hand skirted up your inner thigh for his fingers to tease your slick entrance, seemingly content to feel you gush against his fingertips before slowly burying his middle finger inside you. 

He revelled in your gasps, your moans, knowing that no matter how hard you tried, you could never hide just how fucking good he could make you feel. It stroked his ego, your wordless praise going straight to his throbbing, leaking cock. That mixed with the natural aphrodisiac of your essence had him gripping your outer thigh tightly in an attempt to ground himself and keep his shit together. But it was becoming increasingly more difficult the moment you arched into him as the rough pad of his finger reached that little bundle of nerves deep within your silken walls. 

Oh, how he fucking yearned to replace that finger with his cock. 

Your back bowed as liquid pleasure flooded every fibre of your being, unable to stop your desperate grinding against his face, sharp nails clawing into the meat of his shoulder, feeling his soft laughter beneath your palms. He had you. He knew he had you. Exactly where he wanted you. And if you were being honest with yourself, you were all too happy to accept that if it meant he wouldn’t stop. 

“Fuck! Fuck Logan…” You whimpered, hips undulating onto his tongue as he introduced a second finger, scissoring you open before exploring deeping, once again finding that little spot that made your eyes cross and stars dance in your vision. The tension in your gut started to become unbearable, every breath laced with a pitched moan of his name, repeating it like a prayer to the skies above as you threw your head back.

He wasn’t lying. He was going to make you scream. 

Nimble fingers curled inside you repeatedly, massaging your inner walls whilst his tongue continued to lap at your clit, beckoning you further towards that cliff, dangerously toeing the edge when his lips wrapped back around your pearl of pleasure and sucked long and hard.

A quiet scream tore from your throat, somehow still mindful of the fact you were in the mansion and screaming any louder would definitely alert your poor neighbours of what was going on inside the walls of your room. Heated lightning flashed behind your eyes as your arousal crested into sheer ecstasy, your thighs clamping around his head to hold him right there whilst your orgasm shook your very core, your muscles contracting with every endless wave of pure, hot rapture. 

Logan groaned long and deep into your cunt, using his own voice to heighten and lengthen your orgasm before it became too much for you and you were forced to tug him back, faced with his glistening visage of proud glee. You guessed two months of no sex had been building your sensitivity to a crescendo, your thighs still trembling slightly though you were by no means done. Fuck you wanted to devour him.

“Jeans. Off. Now.” You managed to pant darkly, watching his eyes sparkle with the unspoken promise as he wiped your slick from his mouth, maintaining your gaze as he lapped at the back of his hand. Christ, he was fucking filthy sometimes. 

“Yes ma’am,” he quipped back, slowly lowering your leg from his shoulder, making certain you could still stand on your own before he rose to his feet, capturing your lips in a brutal, passionate kiss as he passed your face. You gasped into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue, your own hands flying to the buckle of his belt, flicking open the steel and tightening the leather around his waist briefly, a small display of assertion, before removing it entirely and looping it around your hand. Oh, you had plans tonight, plans to show him just how much you’d missed him. To show him you had no intentions of letting him go. 

Dexterous fingers popped open the brass button atop his jeans, carefully dragging the zipper down before shoving both jeans and briefs from his hips, leaving him to handle the rest whilst your coal-hot palm circled his pulsing length. 

Logan’s jaw fell slack as he kicked off the fabric, brows pinching as you slowly pumped his cock, your thumb dragging along the prominent vein running down the underside of his length. The clinking of his belt in your other hand had his eyes drifting down, his mind straining to form a coherent thought as you looked at him questioningly. 

“What’re you thinkin’?” he managed to grit, having to wrap his fingers around your wrist to stop your motions before he lost himself again. You pursed your lips, dragging your leather-bound hand across his chest and up to his shoulder.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

You paused for a moment, a wicked glint gleaming in your eye. “I wanna wrap this around your neck and pull on it whilst I suck your fucking soul out of your cock.”

Logan almost choked on his own gathering saliva, and he should really be ashamed of how fucking hot you just made him, his cock throbbing at the mere thought of your intentions. “And you said I was filthy… fuck darlin’. Might’ve been the hottest thing you’ve ever said.” He breathed, delighting in the downright villainous look in your gaze. Holy fucking shit. 

“Yeah? Want me to collar you like a dog?” You had no idea where any of this was coming from. Sure you’d had fantasies of tying him up and worshipping him the same way he’d done to you, but all this dirty talk? You had no damn clue. 

“Fuck yes.” He hissed, and your lips split into a devilish grin. 

“Sit.” You instructed, and he did just that, no questions asked, legs spread for you to kneel between, his cock twitching needily. “So obedient.”

His chest inflated as you rose on your knees, twirling the length of the belt from your hand and winding it around his thick neck, feeding the end through the buckle and pulling until it was snuck against his skin. All the while he nipped sharp bites wherever your wrist was in reach of his mouth, his palm holding your arm still so he could trail his teeth up to the crease of your elbow. 

You gave the belt an experimental tug, admiring the way he gasped at the leather tightened briefly around his neck, pulling his head back from your skin. You felt his cock nudge your stomach with the slight buck of his hips in response to the sensation. 

Settling back down to sit on your heels, you kept the end of the belt clasped tightly in one hand, the other returning to palm his cock, admiring the way he gasped loudly as the centre of your hand circled his sensitive tip, spreading clear pre-cum up and down his shaft. You leaned forward, savouring the bite in your knees as your hot breath fanned the underside of his length, your tongue only gently grazing that same vein you ran your thumb down earlier. 

“Fuck…” he sighed, his head tipping back, bracing one hand behind him and the other atop your head, fingers scratching at the roots of your hair. It had been too fucking long since he had you like this, and the tightening leather around his neck only served to further his heightened sensitivity. 

Opening your mouth, you wrapped your lips around his leaking tip, your tongue lapping against his frenulum, tugging at the belt as his hips bucked into your mouth, craving more. He hissed, baring his teeth in a silent snarl as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking in time to the rhythmic pulsing of his length, your other hand dragging teasing nails up and down what you hadn’t fit in your mouth yet, before all at once, you tore your hand away, opened your throat and swallowed the rest of his cock. 

Logan’s back arched, a stuttered moan tearing from his chest as your nose buried itself in the course hairs at his naval, gasping raggedly as you gave the belt another harsh tug, cold leather digging into the straining tendons on the sides of his neck, pressing against his prominent adam’s apple and constricting his breathing for a moment. The second it loosened, a hot wave of ecstasy coursed through his veins as he inhaled, honey-laced lightning filling his lungs when you pulled back from his cock, only to run your tongue down the underside of his length again as you sucked him off. 

“Shit… shit sweetheart. Feel so fucking good…” he groaned as you worked him, every drag of your hot mouth pulling him closer to his high, every small gag tightening your throat around his throbbing cock. Tears lined your eyes as you took him as deep as you could once again, your hand bracing against his hip as he bucked sharply, uncontrollably, into your mouth. He gasped to the ceiling as his head fell back, tightening the leather as you held the end in a death grip, not providing any slack for him. Brows pinched, mouth agape, Logan felt himself cresting the pinnacle of pleasure, hand grasping your hair as he failed to still his grinding hips.

“Gonna cum baby, f-fuck, gonna cum…!” he rasped a warning, only encouraging you to hollow your cheeks further and bring him over the edge in a similar way he’d done to you only moments ago. Your tongue danced against his pulsing vein, nails digging into his hip bone as you sucked long and hard, tugging the belt sharply and sending him into trembling ecstasy. 

A throaty, drawn-out roar wracked his throat as he tumbled head first into his orgasm, mindful to tear his hand from your head as his claws ripped through his knuckles, shooting rope after copious rope of cum down your throat, his thighs shaking with each delicious wave. He couldn’t find it in him to care for the tearing of fabric as he ripped clean through your comforter, powerful tides of liquid hedonistic gratification sending his mind spinning and clouding his senses. 

You didn’t stop your ministrations, swallowing every drop you pulled from him before continuing to circle the back of your tongue against his increasingly sensitive tip until he was bucking to escape the heat of your mouth. You had half the mind to tug on the belt once more, to get him to behave, but the fresh ache in your cunt was loud enough to release him, wanting nothing more than to feel him quake inside you. 

Pulling off with a soft pop, you delivered a few kitten licks to his still leaking slit before looking up to admire your work, Logan’s blissful, fucked out visage doing nothing to satiate your building desperation. 

When you said you’d suck his soul out, he didn’t think you meant literally. Basking in the afterglow of his orgasm, Logan had to check himself to make sure you hadn’t somehow killed him, his heart racing with the force of his high, chest heaving as he fought for breath. You loosened the belt slightly and he groaned lowly with the sudden intake of oxygen, yet another wave of pleasure forcing another bubble of milky cum from his tip. Softly, you unhooked the belt from the buckle, sliding it from around his neck and discarding it to the floor along with the rest of your forgotten clothing, your hands cradling the fading bruises on either side of his throat.

Cracking his eyes open, he genuinely had a moment where he did think he was dead because you looked otherwordly above him. A seraphim. Or a succubus. He couldn’t decide which. 

“I’d say that was a successful addition, wouldn’t you?” The audacity you had to expect him to respond right now was unbelievable, your soft arms wrapping around his freshly healed neck as you went to straddle his settling thighs, mindful of his overly sensitive cock. You knew it wouldn’t be too long until he was ready for another round, so why not spend that time teasing him a little?

“Fucking hell darlin’...” he managed, his claws sinking back between his knuckles before his hands came to cradle your waist, finding enough strength to pull you with him as he shuffled back onto the bed, propping himself up against your pillows and headboard. “You tryna kill me or somethin’?” he grinned, a brow arched at your wicked little giggle. 

“Wouldn’t be a bad way to go.” You retorted, winding your hands into his hair soothingly,  moulding your lips to his so he could taste himself on your tongue, your own essence still lingering in his mouth.

“What’s that then? Attempt three? Four? On my life?” he asked, pulling back a fraction to watch you roll your eyes playfully. 

“Who’s counting?”

Logan shook his head fondly. All the fear of losing you. All the pain of failing to protect you. The agony of waiting. It was all worth it to see you here, now, with him. He still couldn’t quite believe he had you back in his arms. “Fuck I love you. So fucking much, Firefly.” He murmured against your lips, your eyes widening slightly before pouring every ounce of adoration in your heart into a fierce kiss. 

“Want you, Logan…” you breathed, feeling his cock already hardening against your cunt, grinding your hips to catch your clit on his balls. 

“You have me, sweetheart.” He responded, bracing his hands against your back to switch positions, your world spinning for a moment before you nestled back into the pillows, strong arms caging you in. “You have me.” He repeated, teasing the head of his cock through your slick folds before slowly breaching you.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, ankles crossing at the small of his back as he filled you, the desperation of before having shifted to something more sensual, more passionate. He didn’t just want to fuck you. He wanted to love you. 

Your brows pinched, eyes closing, an airy gasp floating from your lips with the familiar stretch of his length filling your perfectly. He stilled as he settled to the hilt, basking in the feeling of your tight walls clenching around him, shaky breaths fanning your temple as he fought with himself not to cum on the damn spot. 

“Look at me…�� he urged softly, your lids fluttering open to meet his intense gaze, watching his jaw slacken when he pulled out to the tip, before rolling his hips back into you, mesmerised by every micro-expression you made. Your thighs tightened around his waist, heels digging into the base of his spine as you encouraged his movements. He kept his thrusts slow and deep, reaching every inch of your inner walls, grazing deliciously against that bundle of nerves he was teasing with his fingers before you had him in your mouth. 

“I love you.” You whispered, hands holding onto the sinewy muscles of his shoulders, welcoming him into your quivering cunt with every rhythmic pulse of his cock breaching your glistening entrance. Logan huffed a gravelly groan, soft eyes searching tracing every detail of your features, the way your mouth fell open, the way you fought to keep your eyes open when his length bushed that little spot of pure ecstasy inside you, the crease in the centre of your brows when they pinched. He committed each little expression to memory, before losing himself completely in your silken heat.

Logan increased the pace of his movements, pleasure coursing through his veins as you shuddered around him, your nails piercing the skin of his shoulders, desperation fuelling the clawing across the top of his back. Your pitched moans went straight to his cock, urging him to bury his face in the side of your neck and inhale your sweet scent, driving him to give you as much as he could.

“C’mon baby… can feel you clenchin’ round me. Let go,” he instructed, savouring the way your thighs trembled, your spine arching. “Cum f’me darlin’. Show me how good it feels.”

Your symphony of moans climaxed along with your body, the shadows in the room quivering and whipping out as you struck your high, cumming in long, drawn-out waves and creaming on his pulsing cock. Logan tensed as he refrained from spilling into your for as long as he could, determined to prolong your ecstasy before he reached his own. But the moment you surged up to bury your teeth in the side of his neck, he came undone.

“Sh-shit! Fuck!” He growled your name through grit teeth, heaving gasps as he lost control of his hips for the second time that night, bucking into you with renewed desperation as his muscles contracted, rapturous nectar pulsing from his cock as he pumped into your waiting heat, your walls gripping and milking him for all he was worth. 

Phantom tides of lightning caused his length to twitch within you, and it took nearly all his strength not to collapse and crush you beneath him, rolling to the side, your legs still wrapped around his waist, keeping him nestled inside you.

Logan pulled your into his sweat-oiled chest, his heavy breathing calming slightly as you nuzzled into the hollow of his throat, your own hot breaths fanning his already heated skin whilst the two of you basked in the floating afterglow, his scruff scratching lightly against your forehead as you buried your face in his neck. 

He held you as you came back to earth, untangling your legs from his waist, hissing as he pulled out and lifted his side for you to remove your other leg from where he was essentially holding it hostage with his weight. 

“Where the fuck did that whole belt thing come from?” he asked with no small degree of humour in his voice once he remembered how to think properly. He felt you shake with laughter, tilting your head up to gaze into his mirthful hazel eyes. 

“Been wanting to do something with that damn belt since the first time we slept together. Maybe the first time you kissed me, actually…” you hummed thoughtfully, and he cocked a brow. He remembered that first morning you woke up together, your confession over leaving the belt somewhere within reach just in case.

He always wondered what the case would have been. Now he knew. And it was the single hottest thing you’d ever done. 

“Such a freak.” He mumbled, gently hitting his nose against yours as you rolled your eyes.

“You’re saying that as if you didn’t cave the moment I suggested it. I asked if you wanted me to collar you and you responded, and I quote, ‘fuck yes’.” You did your best to imitate his voice, failing miserably as you couldn’t reach that low or gravelly. Logan rolled his eyes, shoving your head back into his neck where you couldn’t see just how wrapped around your finger he truly was.

“That was a shit impression.”

“Whaddya mean, bub?” You did it again, earning yourself a sharp pinch to your waist before you devolved into fits of giggles. 

“Stop.” He fought back a grin, refusing to show you how amused he truly was by your antics. “You’re a hundred-and-five years old, act your age.”

“Logan if I acted my age I’d be dead. And so would you, for that matter,” you quipped back, earning yourself a snort of laughter above you.

“Good point well made.”

“Speaking of which…” you raised your head from his neck once again, propping yourself up on your elbow. “I never did thank you, did I? For not telling me how you found out my birthday. Guess I never got the chance but– thank you. I know you don’t like lying to me so it means a lot that you did.” 

You watch him struggle to accept your gratitude, clearly battling between the guilt of not telling you at the time and the want to keep you in the dark to stop you from dwelling.

“How long’ve you known?”

“Since Charles restored my memory. After my freakout. It was the first thing Jade showed me. My birthday in the cabin,” you responded softly, idly tracing the muscles of his bicep with your fingers. “We gotta go back, by the way. I think I left my gift there.” You admitted sheepishly.

“It’s here.”

Your eyes shot back to his face, and he couldn’t have recreated your expression of surprised awe if you had given him all the art lessons in the world. “It’s here?”

“Yep.”

“Wh- h- what? When? How?” your pitch increased with each question, your brain working overtime to try and remember when he would have had the time to pick it up in the rush of both packing and leaving that night two months ago. 

“Remember you forgot ya purse?” He asked, a fond glint dancing in his eyes.

“Well yeah but–”

“Grabbed it on the way out. It was on the mantlepiece next to that ridiculous picture you took.”

“I like that picture!” You defended avidly, remembering the day you took it. It was a freezing autumn afternoon, though there was nothing but sunshine in the sky. You’d wrapped a scarf around his neck as he worked on the bike outside, snapping a sneaky pic of him all snug. It was one of your favourite pictures, and you’d got it printed and framed without him even knowing about it. How you managed to do any of that behind his back you wouldn’t say, but he let you display it because it made you happy. 

“Besides the point. It’s uh– in my closet.” It was his turn to sound a little guilty, soft tones laced with culpability.

“Your closet? Why? It’s gorgeous.” You tilted your head as much as you could with the awkward position, struggling to understand why he would shut away such an incredible display of his woodworking skills. 

“I couldn’t look at it…” he confessed, and you inhaled a micro gasp of understanding. It was a reminder of what he’d lost for the last two months. You hadn’t really taken the time to contemplate just how hard things had been for him. In a way, having your memories completely readjusted had worked in your favour. You couldn’t miss what you didn’t remember. But Logan? He remembered all of it. And he’d spent the last two months wondering if he’d ever see you again. 

“Logan…” you murmured, your hand leaving his arm to cup the side of his face, heartbreaking as he leaned into your touch a fraction, the scruff of his beard tickling the heel of your palm. “I’m so sorry.” You didn’t quite know why you were apologising. Maybe for having it easier with not being able to miss him the same way he missed you. For not truly understanding what he went through. For being so focused on yourself and your brother, you hadn’t taken a moment to think about his experiences. Sure, you’d asked how he was holding up, but it didn’t seem enough.

“S’okay. You’re here now.” It was a reassurance for himself more than anything else, you could see it in the way he savoured your touch, your thumb dragging gently back and forth over his cheekbone.

“I’m here now.” You affirmed, nudging his nose with yours before resting your forehead against his. “I’m here.”

“I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, firefly.”

Your eyes blew wide, searching his face for the deception you knew you wouldn’t find. “What…?”

“Not a proposal or anythin’, don’t worry. Just wanted you to know. Come far too close to losin’ you to not say shit like this, I guess.” He tried to play it off like his heart wasn’t in his damn throat, watching every micro-expression you made, looking for any sign of rejection. But the way your eyes watered slightly, lips splitting into a smile of sheer, unadulterated joy, told him that there would be no such thing from you. 

“I wouldn’t be mad if it was, but I am yours. For however long you’ll have me.” You continued to trace his features, the creases at the corners of his eyes as his mouth quirked into a soft, fond smile. 

“So ‘til one of us keels over. Might be some time.”

“I think I’m okay with that.”

The rythmic tapping of nails against oak occupied your mind as you started blankly at the presentation screen ahead of you, details of the latest draft of the search and rescue mission glowing faintly on the screen. But you finding it difficult to concentrate on Scott’s authoritative voice when his plan didn’t make any goddamn sense.

“Wasn’t that the entrance you used last time? Fairly certain Kreva would have worked that out by now…” Morgana offered with uncertainty, and you grunted in agreement, your leg bouncing in growing irritation as once again, the meeting was going fucking nowehere. Logan’s hand settled on your thigh, his thumb caressing soothing circles onto the top of your sweatpants. 

“There’ll be twice as many guards there than there were last time, if there were any there at all.” You followed up, speaking through where your teeth chewed at your cuticles, your tapping nails ceasing to settle you other palm atop Logan’s knuckles, a silent gesture to reassure him you were alright. 

“Guards won’t be a problem.” He snarled quietly, resisting the urge to prove his point by releasing the tension in his knuckles. You bit back a smile. 

“We also gotta remember,” Morgana continued, flipping her hair back behind her shoulder. “Kreva will also be expecting something from us now. Especially since he grabbed Rowan for this exact reason. He’ll be expecting you.” She turned her attention to you, and you frowned in acknowledgment. You knew that. You all knew that. And you’d lost count of the amount of times people had tried to convince your to stay here and not head out with them. Each conversation ended fairly abruptly, with you telling them to fuck off. 

“And he still has his trump card, Naji.” Erin chimed in, her cheek resting on her palm as if she was bored out of her mind, her other hand mindless tapping on her phone. You knew she was actually listening pretty intently, her brain working overtime to come up with creative solutions to the problems that just wouldn’t stop arising. She wanted to get Atlas out with as little risk as possible, and she was also one of the people who had tried to convince you to step back, but backed down when you promptly mentioned she wasn’t the only one missing someone she loved deeply. 

That shut her up pretty damn quickly. 

“I thought we’d decided Jean would take care of Naji?” You couldn’t keep the frustration in your voice as you were once again having to go back over issues that had already been resolved. Why the fuck was this being brought up yet again? And awkward silence blanketed the room, Jean, Scott and Charles exchanging quick, uncertain glances. 

“We did… but we decided it wouldn’t be a good idea,” Scott said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms, already defensive. As he should be.

“What? Why? Who else better to engage in a mind battle than a fucking telepath? And I’m not being funny, but I’m assuming Charles isn’t coming, correct?” You turned your head to the Professor as he nodded in confirmation.

“I’ll be there in Cerebro.” Was all he said, and you looked back to Scott pointedly. 

“Exactly. So why the hell wouldn’t we send Jean to Naji?”

“It’s too dangerous.” He stated simply, and you fought the urge to lunge across the table and slap the shit out of him. 

“Of course it’s dangerous. This is dangerous for all of us! But Jean agreed, right?” You tnow turned to her, desperate for her to confirm what had already happened. But she too looked hesitant.

“Yeah, I did.” She sighed, and you gave Scott a look of ‘fuck you, asshole’. But he only tightened his jaw.

“So why are we now deciding that sending a telepath after a memory manipulator is a bad idea?”

“Perhaps we should adjourn this meeting for later?” Hank offered after being all but silent the entire time.

“No, fuck that. This is important. Do you guys know what’s at stake here? I’m assuming Logan wasn’t the only one to read the fild, right? You do know what Kreva did to us, yes?” You asked the room to to yet another chorus of quiet, confirming your fears. Barely anyone in this room knew exactly what they were up against. “You’re fucking kidding me…” You breathed, trying to focus on Logan squeezing your leg to help ground your fury. 

“She’s right,” he chimed in, and your heart surged. No matter what, you knew he would fight your corner. He always did. “Pretty sure the only ones here who can fight against mind battles are Jean and Charles. None of us can put up those kinda defences and if that fucker snatches up one of us, the whole plan goes outta whack.”

“And what will you be doing?” Scott shot from across the table, and you felt Logan tense slightly. 

“What I do best.” He responded flatly, and you got the distinct feeling this meeting was about to become a lot more heated. 

“So whilst you’re running around carving through carrion, Jean will be fighting the real battle, that right?” Okay, now it was really taking all your concentration not to smack his glasses off his fucking face. What the hell did he mean by real battle?

“I think Hank was right, maybe we should–” Kurt began awkwardly from the corner, clearly already hating the growing confrontation. But he was instantly cut off by you, rising to Scott’s challenge.

“Oh I’m sorry, is keeping your girlfriend safe by taking out hundreds of gunmen not enough?” You bit, venom dripping from your tone. Scott scoffed as the rest of the room shuffled anxiously, Ororo pinching the bridge of her knows between her fingers as if this whole conversation was giving her a headache. 

“‘His girlfriend’ is in the room.” Jean placed a hand on her hip, her eyes hardening as she looked between the two opposing sides. But it seemed neither Logan, Scott nor yourself noticed.

“My girlfriend is the only reason you made it out that damn place with your mind still intact, and the only reason you didn’t go ape shit and kill the rest of us like you did Jade.”

“Scott!” Storm barked, but it was far too late. The damage was done. Your head tilted to the side, shadows in the room rippling and writhing as your control over the threads inside you started to slip. 

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Logan snarled, his hands balling into fists as he too engaged in the same battle to keep control. 

“Just because you got a new girlfriend Logan doesn’t mean you can throw mine into the fray. It wasn’t so long ago you were eyeing her up at every opportunity,” he turned back to you. “I’d be careful if I were you. Wait ‘til the next pretty girl waltzes into the school, you’ll be old news to him.”

The following silence was so thick it tasted like bitter resentment. You swore it was only two months ago Scott was congratulating the both of you on your newfound relationship. Why the fuck was he acting like this.

It didn’t matter anyway. He’d said what he’d said and you slowly stood from your seat. The room watched you with prey-like caution, Scott’s fingers dancing across his glasses, Ororo’s hands flexing in anticipation. They were still scared. Still scared of you. And you couldn’t help but think it was with good reason, because the way you were currently feeling, you could have drowned this whole room in darkness without hesitation. 

But you wouldn’t be who they saw. Only Morgana and Erin seemed at ease, Erin with that same bored look, tapping away on her phone, and Morgana looking as if she’d just watched the latest episode of the juiciest TV show.

“Meeting adjourned.” You said with deathly quiet, before stalking from the room, hearing a sharp ‘the fuck was that Scott’ from Ororo as you let your feet carry you away. You refused to feel insecure in your relationship with Logan. It wasn’t that long ago, maybe a week or so, he was saying how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. You knew Scott was bitter about the way Jean had behaved, and the man placed a lot of the blame on your partner, despite the fact she was the one who’d lead him on. Gave him hope where there wasn’t any. Not that any of that mattered now. It was in the past. Old news. And news you’d already been told, by Logan himself. 

That wasn’t even what got to you. It was his comment about Jade. Whilst you’d put your self-hatred and guilt to bed, it still didn’t mean it wasn’t easy for it to rise again. You felt the all to familiar waves of regret wax and wane in your chest, the memory of her death playing on repeat in your head, through your own eyes. You clenched your jaw against them, trying to remember that she had forgiven you for what you’d done. She didn’t hold it against you, and the locket currently bouncing against the hollow of your throat was a testament to that.

You didn’t even realise you’d made it outside until the sharp winter air seeped through your bones. At least the sky was clear, clusters of stars blinking down at you, but rather than finding peace, you instead felt judgement. Which was ridiculous. But you felt it anyway, in the passionate deaths of a million fireballs light-years away from Earth. You sucked in a deep breath, allowing the icy air to soothe the burning in your chest, letting your bubbling rage settle into a gentle stew. 

You heard him before you saw him, heavy footsteps crunching on gravel before a large, warm jacket settled atop your shoulders, bathing you in the comforting scent of whiskey and pine. You stayed silent for a moment, Logan’s hand finding yours subconsciously.

“Did you kill him?” You asked by way of greeting, and you heard a soft huff of small laughter by your side. 

“Not yet. Want me to?”

“I’m real good at hiding bodies.”

“That I don’t doubt.” 

Logan felt his gut twist as you continued looking skyward, hoping you were finding some kind of solace in the feeling of unimportance when faced with the rest of the universe. Feeling small was something Logan was too familiar with, but when staring into the infinite, glittering void above, he found a comforting sense of mortality, despite thus far proving to be immortal. But then he remembered Scott’s scathing comment, and he was brought back to the issue at hand. “You know it’s bullshit, right?”

You blinked for a moment, failing to understand what he was referring to. “What’s bullshit?”

“The whole thing about the next pretty girl…” he clarified quietly, his fingers flexing and squeezing between yours.

“Oh, pff, that? I’m not worried. Like I said, I’m real good at hiding bodies.” You grinned slightly, and you watched his face relax in relief. Was he really worried about such a petty comment? It soothed your aching heart to know he was. 

“Good.” He murmured to the top of your hair, his hand leaving yours to wrap his arm around your shoulders.

“Good that I can hide bodies?”

“That too.”

You hummed in contented agreement, basking in the warmth of his presence, returning your gaze to the night sky. “You okay? That was quite a shot fired from Scott.” You quieried, craning your neck further to look at his side profile, his eyes still trained above.

“‘M’fine. After you left they got into an argument so that was kinda cathartic to watch.”

“Who? Scott and Jean?”

“Mhm.” He hummed in confirmation, and you snorted a laugh.

“What was she saying?”

“That he needs to stop treating her like she can’t handle herself, that she isn’t made of glass.”

“Sounds familiar.” You lightly elbowed his side and he raised a brow down to you, deftly flicking your forehead before you could pull away in time. 

The quiet of the night invaded the space between you, settling comfortably atop unspoken affection. “What he said about Jade…”

“I’m fine, Lo’. Sure, it kinda caught me off guard, but I probably should have expected it. Especially since I was questioning his fragile authority.” You shrugged, but Logan knew the depth of the wound Scott had cut. He didn’t think there would be a time when digs about Jade wouldn’t resurface those feelings of fear and liability. 

“I love you, ya know that?”

You sighed warmly. “Yeah, I know.” You responded, once again letting the silence settle for a beat before you inhaled a breath. “Jean? Really?”

Logan groaned in response, it was the same conversation you’d started when he’d first told you about that whole situation. “Yeah, I know. Don’t.”

“But like, okay she’s hot, and a red-head so like, double whammy, but she’s kinda creepy. Feels like something’s going on under the surface, ya know?”

“Look, she was the first person who’d shown me any kind of kindness for a long time, a’ight?”

“Okay but like, if someone helped you across the street, would you fall in love with them, too?” 

“What am I? Eight-five?”

“No, you’re hundred and thirty. Eighty-five’s pretty sprightly in comparison.”

“And that’s enough talkin’.” He wrapped both arms around your shoulder, hiding your face beneath his chin to muffle your voice, your rapid breaths of laughter fanning his neck. “It wasn’t the same, anyway.”

“Hm?” You tried to pull back, only to be met with resistance from Logan’s hand against the back of your head. 

“It wasn’t the same, how I felt ‘bout her. To how I feel ‘bout you. Never was ‘n never will be.” He didn’t need to say it. You both knew he didn’t need to say it. But that’s why it meant so much more that he did. Your soul sang within the centre of your very being, to be so loved after all you’ve gone through, you never thought something like this would be possible, let alone allowing yourself to love someone back. Even with Jade, you felt as if you didn’t have the right to love her.

But Logan? He made you feel so safe. 

“I know.” You repeated into the home you’d made in the crook of his neck. Logan exhaled a hum, Adam’s apple sending soft vibrations through your nose as he simply held you for a moment, before sniffing the air twice the combined scent of earth coated iron had his lips pulling into a slight smile.

“She’s all yours.” Logan stole a glance behind him to where both Erin and Morgana were standing silently, respectfully waiting for the sweet moment to naturally come to a close. When you pulled back this time, he let you, his hand falling to your waist before pecking your lips with a honeyed kiss. 

It was only when he stepped back from you did you realise you had company, too wrapped up in his presence to hear their shoes on the gravel. He offered you a nod of reassurance, and you offered him a warm smile in return before he turned his back and heading back inside, his jacket still hanging snugly across your shoulders. 

“That was cute,” Erin began as she tucked her phone into her back pocket, the two girls coming to stand on either side of you, both of them looping their arms through your elbows. “Scratch that. He’s cute. Can’t believe you’re actually dating that gorgeous hunk of a man. So unfair.” She pouted slightly, and you chuckled. 

“I know right? We escape for seven years and what do we do? Become strippers and gardeners. You escape for seven years and find yourself a partner, a family and a team. Talk about bullshit.” Morgana chided with a cheeky grin, her eyes flashing in the low light. 

“Yeah well… I did also kill the woman I loved so it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows.” You admitted, watching their expressions morph from cheeky to melancholic in a heartbeat. You guessed they still weren’t quite used to that fact yet. You’d had longer to come to terms with it, at least after Charles restored your memories. They’d only found out a week ago. It was still a hard pill to swallow. Jade was gone. For good. 

Your breath clouded in front of your face as you returned to look skyward, finding less judgment in the stars and more comfort. If nothing else, they’d been a constant in your life. Whether you were out killing for Kreva or out fighting for your family. They’d always been there above you. Keeping you company on the long, difficult nights. 

“I’m gonna miss her,” Erin whispered into the night, her arm tightening around yours. “She was–”

“Fun.” Morgana finished, casting a glance at her two sisters by her side. You huffed a laugh.

“We were fun. Whilst we weren’t being fucked up. We had a lot of fun.” You felt a slight burn in your eyes. It was only just dawned on you that your lives together were coming to an end. When you got Atlas, Rowan, Naji and Joes back, what would happen to Nimlo? Would you all stay together? It seemed unlikely. Erin didn’t seem all too comfortable in the mansion, and you had an idea that once she was back with Atlas, that would be it for the two of them. They’d go their separate ways. Rowan would stay by your side, maybe get a job here at the school teaching physics or something. Joes could never stay in one place for very long, always flitting between rooms for a ‘change of scenery’ he would say. Naji would most likely become a recluse, not that he was particularly social, to begin with.

But Morgana? You had a feeling she was directionless. Torn between different paths. You knew she could stay here. The team would welcome her with open arms, and you’d seen the way she got on particularly well with Kurt, the two of them cracking up in the corner after one of them made some stupid joke. But there was no guarantee that, after this, you’d ever see many of them again. 

“You remember when we graffitied that guy’s wall?” Morgana broke the silence, her voice thick with a similar emotion to yours. 

“And Joes had to distract him by telling him the longest, most elaborate story about the time he went to get his ass checked out by a doctor only to realise he just had pin-worms?” Erin continued, clearing her throat slightly so she could speak without her voice breaking. 

You cracked a broad grin, shoulders shaking with teary laughter as you remembered that night vividly. You were all a bored band of misfits with a can of paint and an idea, drawing a dick and balls on one of the neighbourhood’s walls before being caught with a flashlight in the middle of the act. Joes rushed into performance mode, telling this poor man the story of his completely fabricated visit to the doctor’s in graphic detail. He was so stunned it gave you precious few moments to make a break for it, sprinting down the side streets to the disgruntled shouts of an angry man. You vaguely wondered how he was doing now, before remembering he never existed. 

“Or when we stole that woman’s car after being caught shoplifting.” You chimed, looking at Morgana pointedly. She gaped in mock offence. 

“I refuse to take the blame for that. Atlas was supposed to be on watch but somehow got distracted.” She sent a faux glare across you to Erin, who’d done her best to craft a mask of complete innocence. 

“I had nothing to do with that! You wanna talk about poor lookouts? How about we never put Rowan on scout duty ever again? Why did we think it was a good idea to put the damn light-weaver on lookout, at night time?” 

The two girls both turned to look at you. “Hey! Why ‘m I getting the blame for that? It was Jade’s idea! She said to ‘let him have a go’, so don’t you look at me like that!” You couldn’t suppress your wicked smile, feeling a little at fault but honestly, not giving a rat’s ass. “Is it my imagination or did Jade shift into a hamster and hide herself in the pet shop just to bite the finger of the guy who cut her off that one time.”

“Oh my god no she did! I remember that! She came back with a shit-eating grin saying she ‘got the fucker’ and we were all so confused!” Morgana cackled, the three of you reminiscing over the time Jade had returned from shopping only to find out she’d been pretending to be a hamster for the last four hours in the hopes the motherfucker who cut her off on the road would somehow waltz in. How she managed to actually pull it off blew your minds. How she even knew he’d come in at some point that day was even more impressive. 

Bubbles of rapturous laughter died away as reality settled in your chest, the silence of the night overtaking you once again. “What happens after this…?” You asked quietly, slightly fearful of ruining the moment. But the two girls by your side just sighed, having clearly been asking themselves the same thing.

“Who knows? We gotta get them back first.” Morgo replied with equal quiet, the looming mission now growing ever-present. “But Erin, for the love of all that is both holy and unholy, will you please tell Atlas you love him? Don’t know about the others, but I’m getting real sick of the constant glances of longing between the two of you. Makes a girl lonely, ya know?” She emphasised her point by shoving you in her direction, in turn sending you colliding with the green-haired girl by your side. She shoved you back into the redhead, and you had to tighten your arms around theirs to get them to stop. You weren’t a damn weapon!

Well, not in this context anyway.

“Yeah yeah, alright. Probably would be a good time anyway, with heightened emotions and all that. But we do realise they're not just gonna waltz out of there with us, right? Kreva’s probably done to us what he did to Jade and just forced them all to forget about us.” Erin spoke your fears into reality. It had been on your mind, the idea that Rowan wouldn’t even know who you were when you saw him again, but that was a bridge you were going to have to cross when you got to it. 

“Then we’ll just do what they did last time. Bamf them the fuck out of there with Kurt.” Morgana explained plainly as if it were the easiest solution in the world. When, in reality, it would only most likely work for Atlas. Joes could also teleport and Rowan could disintegrate into the light the same way you could through the dark. Naji would hopefully be too caught up with Jean to notice he’d been snatched away, but that plan was still apparently a raging debate. 

“Can Kurt do that? I mean, he could only do it a few times before all hell broke loose before,” Erin raised, her fingers fiddling the hem of her oversized hoodie, and you shrugged in response. Honestly, you didn’t know what was going to happen, though you knew one thing was certain, and that was getting Rowan back.

We’ll stay in touch, right? After all of this? Like, we’re not just gonna go our separate ways and never speak again. Like, we’ll still talk to each other…? Right?” You could hear the broken uncertainty in Morgana’s voice, another unanswered question. You wanted to. Fuck did you want to. These people were your family. You didn’t want them to leave just yet.

“Yeah… yeah. Course we will. Right, Erin?” You prompted her awkward silence.

“Erin?” Morgana leaned to look across you straight into the girl’s avoiding gaze.

“I… I don’t know. I’d like to. But it’s just… ya know, we’ve been through so much. We should learn how to exist without each other. How to live our own lives.”

She had a point. Ever since restoring your memories, all you’ve thought about was getting NLMO bacl together. But what if not everyone wanted to be together? What if, like Erin had just said, some of them wanted to grow apart? Start their own journeys that didn’t involve experiments or toruture or co-existing with people who could be taken and fundamentally changed at any minute. 

“I get that…” You offered quietly, earning yourself a look of indignation from Morgana and a look of gratitude from Erin. “Myself excluded, it’s hard to imagine any of the others lead extremely fulfilling lives in the seven years after the facility was destroyed. Maybe Erin has a point…” you paused, turning to Morgana’s thoughtfully hurt face. “Maybe it is the time for us to find our own ways. Obviously, that doesn’t mean we won’t be in touch with each other.”

“Exactly!” Erin encouraged with a broad smile, nodding emphatically as Morgana’s expression lightened slightly. 

“I guess so. I just… I don’t really know who I am outside of Nimlo. I’m sorta–”

“On the outside?”

Kurt’s voice chimed from above you, and the three of you looked up to see him swinging like a large, wingless bat from one of the windows. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I could hear you from my room. But I understand, Morgana.” Using his tail, he slowly lowered himself so he could drop to the floor, not wanting to startle the three of you any further by disappearing and reappearing in a cloud of smoke. “I uh– I know what it’s like to be on the outside of things…” He admitted quietly, almost sheepishly, and you cast a glance at Erin, who in turn wiggled her eyebrows at you.

“Yeah? What did you do?” She queried, looking the mutant up and down in a way that was just shy of innocent. 

“I stuck around here. Found my purpose. My purpose was with these people. Perhaps you find yours too.” You suppressed your knowing grin, the man’s shy smile making you almost giddy as Morgana pretended to think it over, placing her fingers on her chin theatrically. 

“Huh… Thanks for the advice, elf-man. I’ll think about it.” She winked in true Morgana fashion, and you gently tugged on Erin’s arm to leave the two of them out in the starlight, letting them have their moment the same way they let you have yours with Logan. 

“They’d be cute…” Erin mused, and you snorted a laugh, shrugging off Logan’s jacket as the warmth of the mansion made you almost sweat beneath the leather. 

“She’ll eat him alive.” You responded flatly, opening the door to the kitchen only for your eyes to land upon three mugs atop the table, the one in the centre you knew all too well, and the aroma of hot chocolate greeting your nose. Marshmallows slowly melted atop the surface, and you let yourself hum a smile as you lifted your mug to read the little, crinkled piece of paper beneath it, a brown circle staining the paper.

‘Cold out there. Warm up before coming to bed. I don’t mean you, Morgana. L. xx’

“I think I’m in love with your boyfriend,” Erin stated with a wry grin, lifting one of the three mugs to her lips and savouring the sweet treat. You sighed wistfully, letting the rich aromas warm you soul with the tenderness of the gesture.

“Yeah. I love him too.”

“Who are we collectively in love with?” Morgana asked, not too far behind the two of you having finished her conversation with Kurt. You didn’t exactly know what the two of them spoke about, but there was an extra kick in her step that hadn’t been present beforehand. You guessed, whatever it was, her life had some kind of direction now. 

“Logan.” You and Erin replied in unison, and Morgana nodded in exaggerated understanding, her eyes too falling on the sweet treat with an even sweeter meaning. 

“Was this him?”

“Yep.” You answered proudly, leaning against the counter, both hands cupped around the heat of the mug. 

“Oh girl you got it good. Do you know how good you got it? Cuz you got. It. Good.” Morgana hummed into her drink, and you really didn’t know how she managed to guzzle down half of the mug’s contents considering it was still scalding hot. But the way she sighed in satisfaction had you chortling. “Why can I have a smoking hot boyfriend who makes hot chocolate for me?”

“Because yours is busy pining from the room upstairs,” Erin commented over the steam of her drink, and you clamped your lips tightly shut, eyes widening as you knew Morgana definitely would have heard her.

“Aaaaand that’s my cue. Have a good night you two. Please try not to kill each other, it’s so tricky to get bloodstains out of this flooring.” You grinned, opening up one of the top cupboards and stealing a packet of smoked mixed nuts before you left, still clutching your hot drink in both hands. There was no way Logan would already be asleep by the time you joined him in bed, and you also knew there was no way he would say no to having a little pre-bed snack. Usually, that meant he’d lie between your thighs for hours, but you didn’t think you had the energy to let him have his way with you tonight. The mixed nuts were more of a distraction tactic than anything else. 

“Night girlie!”

“Sleep well, and please don’t be too loud if you have sex!” Morgana called after you and you sniggered under your breath. No promises, Morgana. You were making no promises.

Maybe you were the kind of person to bite at your cuticles and pull at the skin of your lips. You never thought you were, but more recently you’d found yourself with loose skin clutched between your teeth that you’d torn from your body. The air in the Blackbird was thick with anticipation, with silence accompanying the low hum of the jet engines and the constant roaring of blue flame. With Morgana and Kurt opposite you, Logan and Erin on either side of you, and Ororo, Scott, Jean and Kitty each taking up one of the seats, you’d all assembled that morning to finalise the plan of attack. It had taken Scott another few days after that argument to finally come around and agree to the idea of Jean occupying Naji whilst the rest of you set to work evacuating, and whilst he still wasn’t keen on the idea, Charles had managed to placate him with the reassurance that he would be right there with her from Cerebro. Nobody was going to be left on their own during this. You all knew you had somewhat of a battle coming up, and none of you were about to leave someone behind. 

It wasn’t in the nature of the team.

Your leg bounced slightly, every situation playing out in your head, what you were about to be faced with turning in your mind like a carousel of anxiety. Rowan. Rowan. What state would he be in when you saw him again? It had only been two weeks, but in all honesty, it had felt like months since you’d escaped again. It was highly likely all memories of you would have been replaced, but that didn’t mean you were ready to see the look of unfamiliarity on his face. Was this how Logan felt? The time he came for you? Or did he not have any ideas?

You glanced to where he’d settled his hand atop yours. You found it endearing, how he disguised his own comfort as providing comfort for you. You knew he didn’t like flying. He’d told you as such months ago. It freaked him out, being thousands of feet in the air with nothing but physics and steel standing in the way of plummeting to death. Well, some of you would die. If you landed in the middle of a field during the day, you’d be screwed for sure. 

Twisting your wrist, you intertwined your hands, slotting your fingers between his knuckles and squeezing gently. He raised a brow, turning from where he was looking out beyond the cockpit to where you were focused on tracing the patterns of the steel on the floor.  A thumb brushed gently across the back of your hand.

“Y’okay?” He murmured, and you took a deep breath, quickly debating between being truthful and everyone on the ship knowing how little confidence you had in this plan, and lying to him, which you really fucking hated doing. You knew he hated it too, but you didn’t know if you could face the uncertain looks that were bound to find their way to you if you were honest.

“Fine…” but you let him see right through to your soul, your eyes crystal clear as you showed him just how not fine you really were. You were terrified. Of seeing Kreva again, of seeing Rowan again, of something going wrong. And there were so many things that could go wrong. 

He responded by wordlessly pressing a kiss to your temple, the scruff of his beard lightly scratching the side of your face as you leaned into him, his hand leaving yours to wrap around your shoulders, resting his chin atop your head. You sighed into him, closing your eyes to bask in his scent. In his touch. This was home, for you. Wherever he was, that was home. Logan was your home. 

You hoped he knew that.

“Landing in five. Everyone ready?” Scott called from the pilot’s seat, flicking various switches above his head as you heard the clunk of the landing gear beneath your feet, the world around you fogging up as you dipped below the cloud cover, Scott engaging the cloaking device the moment you all saw the twilight ground beneath. Your heart leapt into your throat as you peeked around Kitty’s seat, the telltale lights of the ‘environmental research lab’ illuminating acres of land in the darkness. From the outside, it really did look innocent. Somewhere that was focused on saving the world through renewable energy. But you knew what lurked below. You’d hidden the skeletons in the closet for Kreva too many times to count. 

A bubble of rage curled in your gut. You’d thought long and hard about what you wanted to say to the man who’d orchestrated so much agony in your life. There was nothing you could do about his great grandfather, the fucking genius behind the whole idea, but you sure as hell could make his grandson wish he was never fucking born. 

In fact, you intended to.

Erin secured the various pockets on her cargo pants, each labelled with a different symbol for different plants. Morgana skillfully flicked about the butterfly knife in her hands, before slotting it back into the guard at her left wrist. It was the perfect position for a quick slice to her palm. 

You guessed everyone was ready, from the grim looks they gave each other. You suppose you were too. Or at least,a s ready as you could be before facing the horrors of your past once again, hopefully for the last time. With a nod to both Erin and Morgana, the three of you stood, taking a collective deep breath. 

“We got this,” Morgana said with more confidence than you felt, but you nodded along anyway. If you didn’t truly feel it, you supposed you’d just have to gaslight yourself into feeling it. This was the first stage of the plan. Draw them out. Since Erin had said Kreva apparently needed all of you to convince the government his experiments have yielded helpful results, you knew he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to get the three of you back in one fell swoop whilst assuming he has the upper hand. That was when Jean, who would remain on the ship, would take hold of Naji, and Kurt would start the evacuation. Scott, Ororo and Logan were mainly backups to keep the guards from interfering. But it was too simple, which was why your mind was working overtime to try and plan for every eventuality. 

Honestly, if he knew, Scott would be so proud of you.

“‘Course we do. Easy stuff in comparison to what we’re used to. This is nothing.” Erin grinned, and you honestly couldn’t believe she was so relaxed, considering how close she was to getting Atlas back. You would have thought she would have been a little more anxious, but you were glad to see she was holding herself up pretty damn well.

“Hey,” Logan uttered your name, inhaling a long breath as you turned back to him. This was the part he was least looking forward to, not that he was particularly looking forward to any of this. But simply having to watch you walk into danger, willingly, he knew it was going to tear him apart when it was first agreed upon, and now the moment was here, it was a shock he was able to keep himself together. “If anythin’… goes wrong, call f’me, ‘kay?” he braced both his hands on either side of your neck, his thumbs positioned beneath your jaw as if you would even try to look away from him. “I’ll hear ya. No matter where you are. I’ll always hear ya.”

Your arms snaked around his neck, fingers winding into the soft locks at the back of his head. “I will. I promise.” You vowed, gasping sharply as he fixed his lips to yours in a kiss you wished could last a lifetime. His mouth moulded passionately against yours in long, languid movements, as if he had all the time in the world. Your heart cracked slightly, refusing to entertain the possibility that, if something goes wrong, this could be the last time you hold him. But you quickly shoved all and any thought like that to the back of your mind. You wouldn’t let that happen, and you sure as shit knew Logan wouldn’t let that happen.

You parted breathlessly, whispering his name against his lips, you lashes fluttering open to find him already looking down at you, eyes brimming with shattering adoration. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” 

Logan shook his head, resting his brow against yours. “Don’t need to. Said you’re mine for as long as I’ll have ya.”

“Til one of us keels over.” You recalled, a small smile pulling at your lips. “We’ve got time.”

“I know.” He breathed, though he was still reluctant to let go of you. He knew he had to, for the sake of this one last mission, but he found himself hesitating. 

“I love you.” You whispered against his lips, and he hated how it sounded like a goodbye. It wasn’t, of course. He’d go through hell and back to make sure it wasn’t, but it still tugged at his heart.

“I love you too.” He responded with another press of his lips against yours. The ship shook slightly as the gear touched the ground, and Logan finally released you from his embrace, stepping back as if he had to physically keep himself from bolting after you the moment you left the hold. You knew how he felt. It was taking all of your concentration to walk away from him, every step feeling as if cement had filled your legs, heavy boots thumping against the ramp as you, Erin and Morgana stepped out into the cool night breeze, the whispering of trees left you feeling slightly unnerved, as if nature itself was alerting Kreva of your presence. 

Taking the lead, with two members of your old family flanking both sides, you steeled your nerves, flicking your wrist to summon three figures of shadow to tail further behind. They were a signal for the others. If one disappears, things have gone to plan. Two meant standby. And if all three disappeared…

It meant things had gone terribly, horrendously wrong. 

You broke through the lining of trees, the glass double doors looming above you as your boots cracked and crunched against the gravel car park for guards disguised as employees. It was no wonder nobody did much research into this place when on the outside it looked so inconspicuous. There was a slight whirr of movement atop the left-hand side of the door, a white security camera twisting and zooming in on your location. You knew exactly who was watching you, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your skin crawl. 

“KREVA!” You shouted, your voice echoing through the trees, several crows flying out from the canopy behind you. Shadows whipped and writhed around your feet as you stood just outside the cone of light from the interior, Morgana’s blood floating above her hand where she’d nicked it with her knife, Erin’s hand buried deep within her pocket, her fingers no doubt tightly wrapped around a cluster of seeds. 

A crackle of static slashed through the resulting silence of your own shout, and you looked to the other side of the door where two orange lights fluttered beneath two small speakers. 

“Well well well, I’d love to say what a surprise, but that would be a lie.” Kreva’s smug voice resonated through the car park and you bristled instantly, your lips pulling back into a snarl. “I’ve been waiting for you, Eight. Quite patiently, might I add? I could have just come and raided that quaint little school again, but where would be the fun in that? It’s much more fun to watch you deal with the betrayal when you realise what’s really been going on.” 

You had to remind yourself not to ask questions. You couldn’t appear clueless, that way he would know for sure he had the upper hand. The thought of being behind on intel scared the shit out of you. How could he possibly be ahead of you? You’d been gathering information for two weeks, and you knew Kurt was extremely careful. So how the fuck could he possibly–

Your blood froze as you felt the slightest brush of something against your boot, and looking down you could feel your face drain as tiny, scattered seeds littered about your feet. Before you had a chance to whip back, a shoulder collided with the centre of your back, sending you sprawling into the light, several heads of giant Venus Fly Traps surged towards you. With a desperate flick of your wrist, you released the hold you had on the three figures back at the ship, and you knew Logan would notice immediately before a sharp pressure across your chest squeezed the air from your lungs. Morgana’s screech of fury was cut dangerously short, and you refused to let the fear of her death consume you, your hands bound by your sides by the furious clamping of teeth.

Erin stepped passed the two of you and watched Kreva appear from within the facility, the doors of a lift opening from inside the lobby, the gangly motherfucker almost waltzing as he approached the double doors. Craning your neck, your eyes met Erin’s, and you could see her internal battle between explaining herself and staying silent. 

“I didn’t have a choice…” she said after a while, tears lining her eyes. “He only needs you and Rowan. That’s what he said. He didn’t need us. And if I handed you over… he’d set the rest of us free.” She finally explained, and your throat tore with a scream of rage. How fucking stupid could she be? Did she really not know, after all this time, Kreva was fucking lying? 

“And Morgana?” you strained, watching grief pass across Erin’s features, her eyes flickering with sorrow. 

“She wouldn’t have understood. But you always wanted to protect us, right? And this way, you can protect us and set us free at the same time. I… I’m sorry, about Morgana. But this was the only way.” 

“I should have– fucking killed you!” You hissed, writhing within the jaws of the Fly Trap, crying out as one of the teeth flicked back and pierced your arm, heated blood flowing down your elbow. 

“Now now, Eight. That’s no way to talk to your family now is it?” Kreva held out his arms as if he expected Erin to run and embrace him. But at least she had the good sense to hold back, eyeing the man suspiciously. “I know what you’re thinking. How could Six have possibly told me what was going on?” He jeered, spinning where he stood as a familiar roar echoed in the distance. Your breath petrified in your chest

“Logan…” you rasped, desperation clawing at your limbs as you fought to tear your arm from the Trap’s teeth, uncaring whether the plant tore through flesh and muscle. You’d endured worse.

“You know what’s just so darn wonderful about the age of technology? It’s that nobody really notices how much or how little time someone spends on their phone! And when we received that first call from Six, oh you can just imagine how excited I was!” Your eyes flew wide as you remembered. It wasn’t something you had particularly took note of, and it wasn’t like Erin had been glued to her phone, but there had been a few instances you thought she was on it at inappropriate times. 

Like in planning meetings, for example. 

“We had a deal, Kreva. Eight for Atlas. I don’t care about the others, just give me Atlas and I’ll turn her over.” Erin clenched her fist and you grit your teeth against the mouth of the Fly Trap tightening around you, spots swimming in your vision. 

“Yes yes, alright. Five!” Your head spun as you watched your brother materialise from the light, Atlas’ elbow held tightly in his grip as he brought him through too. You watched his golden eyes fall on you, recognition flaring in his irises and you thought for one small moment Kreva hadn’t messed with his memory. 

That was before his expression darkened with fury and he extended his hand, a blade of glowing light forming around his arm, the same way you could create one with shadow.

“Take a breath, Five. I know. But revenge is a dish best served cold, especially against one’s own family. I remember the day she abandoned you without so much as a glance back. Do you?”

So that’s what Kreva had replaced you with. Memories of abandonment. You opened your mouth to scream again, only for Kreva to place a finger to your lips, Erin’s hand squeezing even tighter. “Shh, shush now. I haven’t even got to the best part yet. You see, I know of the little backup squad you have in the clearing over there. I didn’t just want Six’s betrayal to tear you apart, Subject Eight. I wanted to break you down, for everything you’ve done to me.” Quivering rage seeped into his voice before he took a breath, that same condescending smile pulling at his lips the moment after he composed himself. “So I sent Naji after your boyfriend. I’d be powerful with both you and Five on my side, but with The Wolverine as well? I’d be nigh on unstoppable.” He whispered, and terror replaced every furious fibre of your being. You hadn’t heard anything from the rest of the team since Logan’s roar. That was until heavy boots crunched through the undergrowth accompanied by the sound of something weighty being dragged along. 

“Who needs an army when you have The Wolverine?!” Kreva called out to an invisible audience as Logan lumbered through the tree line, a body slung across his shoulder and another two dragged behind in each hand. A sob wracked from your chest as you noticed his dark eyes, no trace of the fond warmth you’d come to find in those hazel irises. Covered in blood, Logan threw the two bodies at his feet, before carefully lowering the third from his shoulder. Naji, with a singed hole punctured through the centre of his chest, lay still on the gravel. 

“Shot him ‘fore I could do anythin’. Rest’re dead.” He growled and grief shattered your fragile heart. In one fell swoop, everything you loved had been ripped from beneath your feet and you felt yourself plummet, falling completely limp in the jaws of the Venus Fly Trap as the cold realisation settled in your gut. 

You’d lost. You’d lost everything.

Kreva sighed dramatically, kicking his heels against the ground as he crossed to nudge Naji with his foot. “Shame. Would have been useful to readjust her memories. Not to worry though, we’ll figure something out. Who’re these lovely specimens?” He asked, crouching low next to a blood-soaked Ororo and an unconscious Scott.

“That’s the shit-stick who shot One. That’s the bitch who fried Three.” Logan responded the complete lack of emotion in his voice dragging you deeper into disparity. Joes was dead too, it seemed. What had happened to Jean? To Kitty? You didn’t want to think about it. You already knew the answer. The crimson dripping from Logan’s knuckles told you all you needed to know. 

“You see, Eight? Things could have been so much smoother. Nobody had to die but now look. Everyone you’ve ever loved is either dead or against you. And I can’t force you to forget about it because One is dead too. We’re now the same, you and I. We both have to live with the consequences of our actions.” He spoke in mock mourning, and your eyes slid from Kreva to Logan as he was escorted to your side.

“Please…” You whispered thickly, whether you were begging him to remember or begging him to kill you, you honestly didn’t know. But a hollow void opened in your chest when you couldn’t see any trace of recognition in his eyes. He didn’t know who you were. 

Now you knew what it felt like.

“Kreva.” Erin prompted with steel lacing her tone. “Our deal.”

“Right, right, yeah. Uhm, actually, no.” Before she could react, Rowan took a swift step forward and with a swipe of his blade, cut a clean slice through her throat. Erin gurgled a gasp, her hands slowly reaching for the fresh wound, thick rivers of blood staining her pale skin, leaking down her neck, soaking her shirt. She fell to her knees, eyes wide with shock, the Fly Trap loosening its grip around your body as it died alongside her, shrivelling and sinking into nothing.  

You hit the ground with a soft thud, rolling slightly before bracing your body up on your elbows. You couldn’t turn around. Couldn’t turn and face everything you’d lost. Morgana was dead. Erin was dead. Kitty was dead. Scott, Ororo, Jean, Joes, Naji… 

And the Logan you knew, the Logan you loved, he was gone too. The sharp tip of a blinding blade sliced a thin line beneath your chin, tilting your head up to look into the eyes of your brother, eyes burning with loathing and betrayal. How ironic it seemed. 

You could let him do it. Lean forward and let the blade pierce your throat, die gurgling as Erin had if your body didn’t dissolve first. But you knew you couldn’t. Your subconscious strength to survive against all odds wouldn’t let you. 

With the slight crunch of gravel, Kreva crouched down before you, tucking a grimy lock of hair back from your face with disgusting care. “I’ve spent too long orchestrating this to let anything happen to you. Now, I know it will be harder without Naji to adjust that irritating little memory of yours, but you need to come back to us, Eight. We need you. Your brother needs you,” he murmured with the viper venom of an unfaithful lover. You didn’t fight it. You couldn’t. You let the yearning to be needed, the yearning to save consume you, and despite all the pain, all the agony Kreva had caused, you nodded slightly. “You were always my favourite subject, Eight,” he whispered, before turning back to Atlas and Rowan, the former’s eyes still trained on Erin’s lifeless body. “Deal with the bodies in the clearing. Wolverine, if you would be so kind.” He gestured back to where you hadn’t moved from the floor, and Logan stepped over you, roughly hooking his hands beneath your arms to tug you to your feet. An hour ago, you would have melted into his body, found comfort in those very same arms. 

Now all you felt was fear. Icy terror trickled down your spine where once you’d felt warmth. And whether it was because you still hadn’t processed everything you’d just lost in a heartbeat, you couldn’t discern, but your shattered heart felt the slightest phantom caress of his thumb against your bicep, the ghost of a reassuring squeeze.

The same gesture of comfort he’d give you if you were anxious in a meeting, or stressed before a class. 

Kreva glanced from where he was watching Atlas and Rowan stalk into the trees back to you, his brows raising as his eyes settled at the hollow of your throat, the golden locket glinting in the low light. With a tilt of his head, he took a step toward you, reaching out to where it rested against your neck.

“Firefly.”

Your spine straightened, breath caught in your throat as you realised. You hadn’t imagined the touch. It wasn’t some fucked up production of your overwhelming grief. With a swift slash of steel and a thick, wet crunch of splitting bone, there was a beat before you registered what had happened.

Kreva’s outstretched hand twitched on the gravel, blood staining the stone, no longer connected to his arm. There was a deafening scream of agony from the man before all hell broke loose. Shock had locked your limbs as you were shoved back, the crackle of lightning and resonating boom of thunder split the sky overhead, blasts of red energy igniting the treeline as a pitched ringing pierced your eardrums repeatedly. 

“Morgana…” You whispered, finally coming back to your senses and almost falling over yourself to get to the red-head lying limp on the floor. Sharp stones and pebbles bit into your knees as you skidded to her side, desperately rolling her onto her back to assess the damage. Her neck was swollen badly, bruises blooming around her throat. With two shaky fingers, you held them against her wrist, praying you’d feel something, anything that might even resemble a pulse. 

You waited, whilst various screams and roars echoed around you, you waited with bated breath, trying to concentrate on just feeling for her, your own panic rising the longer it took. 

“C’mon Morgo… c’mon!” You breathed frantically, pressing harder into her wrist as if you could pull a pulse from her arteries yourself. You tried to take a deep, calming breath, your own racing pulse getting in the way of feeling one for her. Quietening your mind, if only for a moment, you focussed, heart, leaping the moment you felt the slightest push from her wrist. Faint, slow, but there. 

A cry of relief tore from your throat as you gathered her in your arms, pressing your brow against hers. The rapid crunch of feet against gravel caused you to snap your head up, arms tightening around her body protectively, baring your teeth as Atlas raced towards you, his brows pinched. 

“It’s me, it’s me!” He held his hands up in surrender, and you blinked at him, confusion clouding your mind.

“Wh–– How? I don’t–”

“I don’t remember everything. Not like you do. But after you escaped, Kreva was so focused on Rowan that he almost forgot I was here. By the time he remembered, I let him think Naji had already worked on me. He showed me what I needed to know, that this was all a fucking lie.” His hands started to glow that healing blue, glowing particles flowing from his palms to wrap around Morgana’s neck, entering through the layers of her skin and repairing whatever it was Erin had broken.

Erin…

Oh fuck.

“Altas, I–”

“I’ll get to her in a second. Just… just give me a moment.” He hissed, the bruises around Morgana’s neck fading quickly as if they were never there. You still didn’t understand. Less than a minute ago, you were drowning in helplessness, forcing yourself to accept that you’d lost. Kreva had won. And now, as you finally raised your head to the chaos around you, you watched as he retreated into the facility, alarms blaring, crimson lights flaring.

And Logan, bloodstained and heaving, looking back to meet your eye. With one last glance to Atlas and a quickly healing Morgana, you struggled to your feet, taking a shaky step toward him. Then another. And another. 

Logan hesitated as he saw the trepidation on your face, his claws sinking back between his knuckles when you paused before him. He knew what you were searching for, your exhausted gaze flickering across his features and he let you see. Let you see that none of it had been real. Jean was alive and working on an unconscious Joes. Scott and Ororo were okay, Kitty by their side after securing the car park, all and any guards now buried beneath the ground suffocating. Kurt was alright, currently by Morgana’s side after bamfing onto the scene, his concern etched into his pinched eyebrows. 

“It was the only way we could get to you…” he explained softly, his voice bringing you back from the depths of suspicion, your features falling slack as you surged forward into his arms, and he wasted no time in wrapping you up, securing you against his chest.

“I thought I lost you,” You whispered raggedly against his neck, allowing the paralysing fear to leech from your heart. “I thought Naji–”

“He tried,” Logan interrupted tenderly, his fingers winding through the back of your hair. “But Scott got to him first. I’m sorry, Firefly. I’m so sorry. Joes is okay, Jean’s working on him now, but there wasn’t anything we could do for Naji…” He explained quietly, and you nodded a little numbly. In the face of losing everything, you guessed this was the best outcome you could have hoped for. 

“Where’s Rowan?” You asked, leaning into Logan’s touch as he cradled the side of your face, pulling you from the crook of his neck to look into your eyes.

“Still with Kreva. Bastard disappeared the moment Storm lit the place up. I think he’s lookin’ to burn everythin’ to the ground…”

Your breath hitched, remembering that this was Kreva’s backup plan. If he couldn’t get you back, he’d destroy everything and leave no evidence. Only the words of those who’d survive.

If anyone would survive. 

“I have to stop him. Rowan will destroy himself.” You explained, panic solidifying into determination as several muffled shouts echoed through the car park, torchlights waving erratically in the darkness and body upon armoured body flooded the entrance to the facility, three rows of masked guards pointed guns towards you and Logan. A low snarl left his lips, and he subtly moved you behind him, removing his hands from your body before his claws split through his skin.

A delicate hand on your shoulder made your head turn, Kitty’s steely smile telling you all you needed to know. She could get you there. Phase through bullets and bodies and get you to Rowan. To where you needed to be.

“Phasers forever, right?” She grinned, and you felt your own mouth split into a smile. Ororo flanked her left side, Scott sliding to a stop by Logan’s right. You knew this was it. This was the make or break. Either you succeeded here or you failed but no matter what, everything ended tonight. Right here. Where it all began. 

“Hey… freakshow!” You whipped to look behind you at the croaky, strained voice of Morgana, looking a little worse for wear but nonetheless on her feet. You sobbed a laugh of disbelief. “Give him hell for me, yeah? Fucker gets what’s comin’ to him.”

You grit your teeth, sending her a solid affirming nod, before turning back to the ranks in front of you. The back of Logan’s hand grazed your fingers, and it warmed your heart when you realised, even when faced with countless adversaries, he was still mindful not to hurt you with his claws. You brushed your thumb over his raised knuckles, bending your knees in preparation for the sprint of a lifetime, adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

“Let’s fucking go.” You hissed, taking the first step forward. 

And that was all that was needed for gunfire to reign supreme, bullets passing through your body thanks to Kitty’s touch on your shoulder, racing harmlessly through the prattle of shrapnel, Storm’s lightening striking the earth in front of you, Logan’s roar of pure, unfiltered rage fueling your every step. A burst of blinding hot energy exploded the front of the facility, rubble and brick crashing down in front of the door just as you stepped through the threshold, the immediate cacophony of battle muffling the moment you emerged on the other side. 

Pulling out of Kitty’s grip, you raced back to the ruined doorway, desperately pulling away rocks and wood. You needed to see him. You needed to make sure he was okay before you followed Rowan and Kreva. A loud thump rattled the remaining broken glass and you jumped back, watching as blood pooled on the floor, seeping through the remains of the porch. 

“We gotta go. They’ll be fine, okay? But they won’t be if you can’t stop Rowan.” Kitty urged, her hand returning to your shoulder to placate your panic. You knew she was right. You knew she was, and you knew you had to let it go. You trusted him. Of course you did. You trusted he would be okay. You’d seen him heal multiple times from so much worse than this. He’ll be okay.

He’ll be okay.

With a deep breath, you nodded, and she pulled your shoulder slightly in the direction of the elevator. It was surreal to think that, all this time, whilst you were screaming and suffering, this was above you. It looked no different to any other kind of research facility. Banners with cartoon images of trees hung from the ceiling, the words ‘Renewable Energy!’ plastered on every available surface. If you had the time, you would have looked around a bit to see just how the Kreva’s had managed to cover their tracks so damn well. But urgency pumped through your blood as you reached the elevator doors, almost punching the button through the damn wall.

But there was no response. No telltale ding. No little light. The power had been completely shut off. 

“Fuck’s sake!” You cursed, your eyes frantically searching for a shadow to slip into. But it was difficult to see with the crimson lighting constantly revolving in circles. This already wasn’t exactly going to plan, and with more voices dancing along from various forking hallways, you knew you were running out of time. 

“Okay, I got a plan,” Kitty stated confidently, crouching low to the seam of the doors and sticking her hand through the solid surface. “So, predictably, the elevator isn’t up here. But, I’m thinking that it’s gonna be real dark in the shaft, right?” She explained and you caught on quickly. “So I get us in there and you get us to the bottom without breaking either of our legs. Sound good?”

“Works for me.” You shrugged, sending one last look to the raging battle beyond the rubble. But when Kitty didn’t move, you looked back at her, raising a brow of confusion. “What?”

“Nothing… just wasn’t expecting you to agree, that’s all. Was kinda waiting for you to tell me you’ll figure it out yourself so yeah, a bit shocked…”

“Now is not the time.” You huffed, grabbing her wrist to place her hand back on your shoulder. “We’ll talk about my teamwork character arc later, ‘kay?” Kitty smiled wickedly, sticking half her body through the doors. 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

One moment you were in the lobby, the next you were falling through the elevator shaft. She was right above one thing. It was almost pitch black inside. Taking advantage of the low lighting, you gripped her tightly, releasing the threads on your body and pulling her into the shadows with you. The wind in your ears died instantly, and the feeling of gravity pulling you to your death ceased. You were nothing. You weighed nothing. You were a concept. Consciousness. A sense. You flowed like water and flew like time. 

And it took less than a second to drag yourself and Kitty down to the ceiling of the elevator below you, reassembling your molecules and knotting the threads of Kitty back together for her. She took a deep breath, her voice echoing up the shaft as she shook herself out. 

“God it always feels so weird! Does it feel weird when I phase you like that?” She asked, wiggling her fingers in front of her face to make sure they were all still there. You shook your head with a small chuckle, cracking your neck to the side. 

“Not really. Sure, it’s kinda weird to have shit pass straight through me, but not in this kinda way, I guess.” You shrugged, letting her gather herself back up before phasing the both of you through the ceiling of the elevator and through the closed doors. 

Now this was the facility you remembered. The images struck you like a ton of bricks. Clinical white hallways, bleached ceilings and walls, blinding lights on every damn surface. The stench of chemical cleaner and stale blood sent your empty stomach roiling and you had to fight the urge to dry retch. You knew where he’d be. At least, you could hazard a guess. There was always a room reserved for you and Rowan. It was your special little chamber where Kreva liked to run his experiments. A wall splitting the two of you, one drowned in shadow, the other illuminated with light. 

Steeling your nerves, you let your feet walk you down the world’s worst memory lane. For a place that had been destroyed seven years ago, they’d rebuilt it as if nothing had ever happened. Each corner was exactly the same. Each observation room was perfectly curated to mirror what it had been like before everything went to shit. It was all hauntingly familiar. 

“You okay…?” Kitty asked slowly, her eyes flickering across each laboratory you walked passed, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her you knew exactly what each and every room was for. You knew exactly what instruments lay where and what they did. You didn’t need her to know any of that. It wasn’t her burden to bear.

“Yeah… ‘m okay. S’wierd being back here, but I’m okay.” You responded truthfully, surprising yourself with how well you were taking it. It didn’t matter that every damn second you had to remind yourself you weren’t trapped here, and you were free and had been free of Kreva for the last two weeks, and the last seven years before that. You were okay. You would be okay. This was where everything ended. After this, you could do whatever the hell you wanted.

With Logan by your side. 

You rounded the corner and stopped as you came face to face with your past. Two doors stood opposite you. One for Five, and the other for Eight. For you. Kitty hung back as you squared your shoulders, taking the next few steps and using every ounce of faux confidence you could muster as you entered the code into the keypad, the one you’d seen Kreva or TS8 do so many damn times. With a hiss of machinery, the door slid open, and once again you had to remind yourself you were okay. He didn’t have you. You were free of him. 

The same table taunted you from the centre of the room. Worn leather straps lying limp on each four corners. You remembered every little detail of the steel. Every faded mark on the floor. You’d counted every little hole in the paneled ceiling and traced the round light above you as you waited for whatever experiment Kreva was about to run to start. What you never realised until now, however, was the one-way mirror across the far side of the room. You always assumed it was so you could watch whatever they were doing to you, simply yet another form of torture. But it only now occurred to you this was where the Kreva’s would watch from. This was where they would note down everything they discovered.

That was where he was now. You could almost fucking smell him. 

With a flick of your wrist, eight figures rose from the shadows in the room, each of them awaiting your command, twitching with apprehension. You didn’t need to say anything. You never did with them. Wordlessly, they each stood facing the mirror, arms raised, shadows writhing about their hands until they solidified into spiked maces. 

As one, eight shadows of your past shattered the glass effortlessly, shards of reflection scattering about their feet, revealing the observation room behind, the stench of fresh blood permeating the lab. 

Dissolving into the shadows, you reappeared beyond the window, finding a sick sense of satisfaction as you watched Kreva desperately clamber behind a console, papers and electronics clattering to the floor. You said nothing, those eight figures coming to stand patiently behind you, heads glitching and shifting. 

“I made you what you are.” He spat, blood dribbling from his mouth, his glasses shattered and sitting askew atop his nose, scarlet stump clutched against his chest. “This world would have torn you to pieces. I saved you from that. I harnessed your power. Everything I did was in the name of creating a better world!” 

You stalked forward with deadly quiet, letting the shadows overtake you and flank either side of the man whose family name had tortured you for over eighty years. You truly didn’t know what you would say to him if this moment ever came. You hadn’t let yourself think about it because you never thought it would.

But standing here, with all the power in your hands, a stark contrast to the rest of your life, you smiled. Not that warm, comforting smile you reserved only for the people you loved. You smiled like the edge of a knife, slicing through tender meat. You smiled like the adder before striking a rodent. You smiled like the shark after a meal. 

“You tortured me,” you began, one of the shadows lunging forward with clinical precision to land a blow through Kreva’s shoulder, relishing in the scream of agonised terror. “You tortured my friends,” another white-hot slice to his other hand, that same sick crunch of splitting bone as his hand flopped onto the floor. “You came for the people I care about,” a void-like hand thrust through his calf, blood and tendons exploding as the figure solidified its limb within his body, pieces of muscle and marrow splattering over the console and wall. “You tried to take the man I love,” you remembered vaguely Jade’s request, and though you didn’t command it, one of the shadows sent its foot straight into his crotch and Kreva doubled over, unable to scream through breathless agony. “And that very power you say you harnessed. That very power you nurtured,” you paused, crouching low and lifting his face akin to the way he’d done earlier at your lowest point. “I’m going to watch as it tears you apart.” You hissed, dropping his head to take a step back as every single on of those figures sank into his body, hiding within the shadows of his absent heart.

“Every part the demon I made you.” He gurgled, choking on his own blood.

“And so much more.” You responded as black tendrils entered his bloodstream, staining his veins, spiderwebbing up the side of his neck, invading his eyes before they rolled into the back of his head. You’d given them free rein to do what they wanted. You would let the shadows of your broken family get their revenge in any way they chose. 

Kreva convulsed on the floor, his back bowing as if possessed, limbs twitching and locking, foam gathering at the corners of his mouth as his death was elongated, pain creasing his eyes, mouth agape in a silent scream as your shadows tore apart every fibre of his being, 

On a molecular level.

He fell silent for a moment, stilling on the ground, before there was a loud, earsplitting crack, and you barely had time to raise a solid wall of darkness before entrails and tissue painted every surface crimson, white sharks of bone piercing into the walls, embedding into the ceiling. 

The wet dripping of pulp falling from the ceiling was the only sound in the following silence, the weight of the moment settling on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees. 

He was dead.

Kreva was dead. 

The man who’d caused so much pain. So much terror. Who’d forced you to commit the worst acts of humanity, the sole reason for the overwhelming self-hatred…

He was dead. 

You felt a sob rise in your throat, and you set it free, your shoulders shaking from the sheer force of your cries. Every moment of torture. Every fibre of agony released in your earthshaking screams, your voice scratching, tearing at your throat. You knew the moment couldn’t last. You knew you still had to find Rowan. But with Kreva dead, your chances of getting him back had just increased tenfold. 

Bracing your hands against the cool floor, you let yourself tremble under the weight of freedom, feeling the ghost of shackles around your wrists and ankles fall away, the claws around your neck releasing. 

“You killed him…”

You drew in a shaky breath, the familiarity of that voice tugging at the threads of your heart. Struggling to your feet, you turned to face your brother, Rowan standing in the shadows of the room made for you, his eyes wide with an emotion you couldn’t quite read.

“Yeah. It’s over, Rowan. You’re safe now. We’re all safe now. You can come home with me,” you breathed, extending your hand toward him through the shattered mirror. “You don’t have to hurt anymore. I’m here. I’m here…” you reassured, taking a step toward the gap between you with the intention of drawing him into your arms.

“You killed him…” he said again, his expression shifting to something you recognised all too well. “You abandoned me here, to suffer at the hands of these demons, and you killed the only man who showed me any kindness…”

You blinked as the lights on the console flared slightly. “No… that’s what he made you think. That’s what you remember because it was a memory he put there. But it isn’t real. Come with me. I can show you. Please… I can show you everything.” You begged, suffering the slice to your hand as you slid through the shattered glass of the mirror, now standing opposite him, arms open. “It’s okay… you’re safe now. He’s gone. You’re–”

You didn’t have time to finish your sentence before a flare of pure light from the hallways beyond blasted you to the side, your spine cracking against the wall, head splitting with the impact. Your vision blurred slightly, pain exploding in your mind as you struggled to regain your breath. Through the swimming haze, you could see Kitty’s arm on the door through the doorway, the rest of her body lying still on the ground beyond. 

“You took everything from me.” Rowan loomed over you, glowing wings of light flaring wide from his shoulder blades. “Now I’m going to take it all back.”

Logan heaved a snarling breath as he retracted his claws from the helmeted head of yet another faceless guard, casting a calculating glance at the bodies littering the ground, some fried, some missing various limbs, but all dead. Soaked in blood, he watched as Scott sent another beam through one of the last men standing, Ororo sending another flying over the treetops with pinpoint accuracy. 

The car park fell still as the final assailant was annihilated, falling headless to its knees, body twitching before falling still. It was eerie how silent the night felt after so much bloodshed, but Logan’s thoughts immediately turned back to you. You were down there somewhere, stopping Rowan however you could. Was Kreva still alive? Or had you already dealt with him?

A darker question entered his head, and it drove him to move. 

Were you still alive?

“Scott, I need a doorway,” was all he said, pacing over to the crumbled ruins blocking the door. Surprisingly, there was no flood of protests from Cyclops, only a sharp nod of agreement before a beam of white-hot energy sailed through the rubble, melting rocks and burning wood effortlessly. Logan breathed a quick “Thanks,” before breaking into a run, mindful to avoid the liquid fire Scott had created before he was jogging through the lobby, red lights reflecting off every surface. It was the perfect representation of his mind when his ears twitched, catching a distant scream from below. 

He breathed your name, panic sending his heart racing as he spared a quick glance to the rest of the team behind him, Ororo immediately picking up on his change of demeanour. 

“Go. We’ll clean up the rest here.” She urged as more torches pointed down either side of the hallway into the lobby. How many more of these fuckers were there? But he trusted they could handle it. He had to trust them if he wanted to get to you. With a sharp nod of gratitude, Logan turned back to the elevator, his claws sinking through the surface and cutting out a square large enough to fit through. He couldn’t look back, not as the prattle of gunfire started up again.

With his heart in his throat, Logan plunged into the darkness, slicing his claws through either side of the steel walls to slow his descent, sparks and the pitched squeal of slicing metal accompanied his fall until his feat touched a solid surface. Crouching low, he sliced through the top of the elevator, jumping through the gap before repeating the same thing on the double doors. He remembered the last time he was here, the familiar panic as he searched for you, hoping that you’d be okay, praying that you’d still be alive. He felt that same urgency now as he raced down the hallways, the lights above flaring and dimming erratically. 

Rowan.

It had to be. 

There couldn’t be any other explanation. 

The thought had him moving faster, enhanced hearing picking up every clash of power, every hiss of shadow and burst of light. 

Every pained gasp. 

You panted heavily, blood leaking from your nose as you once again rose to your feet, shadows swirling around your finger on one hand, your other cloaked in a blade of darkness as you faced your brother. 

No, this wasn’t your brother anymore. This was Solaris. This was your equal and your opposite. A similar rivulet of crimson flowed down over his lip, the result of the harsh punch you’d thrown at him before, his nose now sitting at a crooked angle. The wall between your rooms had been obliterated, dust and rubble littering the ground where he’d thrown you through into his assigned lab. Darkness in the light. Light in the darkness. You opposed each other, twin wings flaring threateningly. 

You couldn’t talk him out of this. You needed him to back down of his own free will. You couldn’t teleport him out of here like you could the others. But you knew he was too far gone. You knew you couldn’t get him to stop.

But you couldn’t fail here. 

A sharp call of your name distracted you for a moment, your black eyes widening as you saw Logan in the doorway, his expression frantic as he looked you over, from the tip of your blade to the claws of your wings. 

Solaris looked between you, a roar of betrayed agony tearing from his lips as he lunged forward, his own blade of light swinging in a high arc above his head to split your skull. You met him blow for blow, parry for parry, fighting to ignore Logan’s presence in the door. With a stray gesture, you raised a solid wall of shadow before him, an immovable, impenetrable barrier between him and your brother. 

Logan stepped back as a solid wall of darkness rose from the ground, pressing his hand against it to test its durability. What the hell did you think you were doing? Why were you stopping him? He pushed against it, finding finding equal resistance. Pushing again, he was met with his own strength coming back at him. His breath caught in his throat. Through the shifting shadow, he could see your silhouette standing against Solaris, the two of you having separated for a moment before trading blows once again. Logan sent his fist colliding into the wall, feeling the crack of bone before his hand quickly healed and he tried again. 

With half your concentration focused on keeping up the barrier protecting the man you loved, you received the point of Solaris’ blade through your abdomen, your gut twisting with pain as you strained a gasp, hearing Logan’s roar of despair fueled rage from behind the now flickering wall. Solaris pulled his blade back, his eyes nothing but pits of blinding light, the opposite of your own. 

“You can’t save them. You will burn.” He spat, taking a step back as you fell to a knee, pain consuming your system as you tried in vain to cover the wound with your hand, crimson blood flowing through your fingers like sand. 

But he was wrong. He was so wrong. Golden light started to flare from the centre of his chest, erasing every shadow from the room, and bleaching the surfaces of darkness. All shadows bar one. 

All shadows but your own. 

Charles’ words echoed through your head. ‘She cannot disappear into her own shadow or she will be lost.’ ‘That’s why we called you back. We’ve been lucky so far.’

Closing your eyes, you let a stray tear slip down your cheek, and Logan’s heart stilled in his chest. 

“No… No, no NO!” His voice ripped through his throat, claws slashing at the wall of darkness you managed to maintain. “Don’t– Don’t do THIS PLEASE! DON’T… don’t do this.” His words diminished as you turned to look through the barrier, a small smile of acceptance pulling at the corners of your lips, blood staining your teeth. 

You could save them. You could save them all. 

And all it would cost was your life. 

“Til one of us keels over…” you offered him one last promise before you surged forward to where Solaris burned bright, and he barely had time to scream your name as your own shadow flared up around you as you leapt into the blaze, your body disintegrating into shadow.

Logan watched as darkness consumed the glow, a visceral battle between shadow and light, your mutation finally releasing itself around your brother, dragging him into the void with you. The wall fell away, fading back into nothing as he lost you to the very thing you were training against. 

A prison of your own making hummed where you’d leapt forward, a sphere of glassy void, both you and your brother locked away safely where he couldn’t hurt anyone…

And he could never see you again. 

An ever-changing cell of light and dark. 

He lunged forward, vocal cords ripping in his throat as he screamed your name again and again, punching against the surface until his knuckles bled and blood splattered across the floor. Breath singed his lungs as he sobbed. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was going to spend the rest of his life with you. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. 

So why was the rest of your life taken from you? Why did he have to spend the rest of his life alone? Why was he always fucking alone? He only just got you back.

And you were gone again. This time, for good. 

You saved him. You saved him from so many sleepless nights. So many times he’d wake up to find comfort in your slow breathing next to him, placing the side of his head against your chest, feeling your breaths, listening to your heartbeat. You saved him. But the price of doing so was losing you.

Strength left his body as he crumbled to his knees. This had been your choice. You’d sealed yourself away in a cell of flickering light and swirling shadow, imprisoning Solaris along with you for the rest of time. You’d disintegrated into your own silhouette like Charles had constantly warned you against. And you’d done it to save the people that you love. 

Logan placed his hand against the buzzing wall of light and dark, pressing his forehead against the incarnation of your mutation, hoping against hope that somehow, somewhere, you were still in there. Your whispered name fell from his lips, tears falling ceaselessly to darken the floor in droplets, his head bowed low. The light from within flared and faded rhythmically, glowing inside the empty black of shadow. 

Much like the light of a firefly. 

“Please…” he whispered. “I love you. I love you.” His chest was wracked with silent sobs.

“Logan!” Ororo’s voice echoed through the chamber as she slid to a stop in the doorway, a gasp flying from her lips. “What…?” She could barely comprehend what she was seeing. “Where is she?” She asked quietly, her footsteps too loud in the grieving silence of the room. He couldn’t find his voice through the choking heartbreak in his throat. 

“Logan…?” Morgana stepped carefully through the doorway, a badly injured Kitty supported by her shoulder, blood leaking from a wound on her head. The redhead fell silent as she realised what had happened. “She did it…” she whispered, melancholy lacing her tone. “She did it.”

A new wave of grief suffocated his chest as her words struck his heart. You had. You’d done it. But in doing so, you’d sacrificed everything. 

“No…” Kitty whimpered, struggling to free herself from Morgana’s hold to get to you. “That’s not her… it’s not her!” She cried, staggering forward only to fall to the ground a few steps later, a yelp of grief-stricken pain piercing the air. Logan looked back numbly, his eyes meeting hers as she looked at him pleadingly. “Tell me… tell me it’s not her…” she begged, her voice thick with emotion. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell her it wasn’t you. And the longer his silence lingered, the more hope drained from her eyes and she sobbed into her arm.

It was all he could do to go to her and drag her into his arms, listening to his own heartbreak shatter in every single one of her cries. He screwed his eyes shut, letting her shudder in his arms. 

“I’m sorry…” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

He knew there was nothing he could have done. You’d sealed him out for a reason. You’d shut him away because you knew this was what you’d have to do. And you knew he would have stopped you. He would let the world burn for you, but you wouldn’t allow it. Because living with himself after would have been impossible.

You saved him from that. You’d saved him from himself. 

“She's gone…?” Scott asked softly, joining the grieving group and reading the room. Morgana nodded in confirmation, and his jaw tightened. It was then Logan knew this wasn’t what he wanted. He spoke the truth when he’d said all those months ago he didn’t want you gone. He didn’t want you neutralised. 

“She saved our lives…” Ororo offered quietly, as if fearful her voice would break if she spoke any louder. Logan turned back to the sphere of shadow and the light pulsing within.

You’d saved so many people in your life. A sharp contrast to how many you’d hurt. But he knew you’d be happy with this. You were okay with this. Your last act was one of saving, not hurting. So he would live for you. He would live in a way you’d be proud of. Placing his hand back against the surface of your mutation, he let the promise seep through his palms as if somehow you could hear his intentions. 

“See you soon, Firefly.”

[leiawritesstories]

We're Really Doing This

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 28: Eloping @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: some swearing, innuendo

A/N: ✨happy birthday to me✨ here have a fun little elopement fic!! enjoy!!

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

“And do you, Aelin Galathynius, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?” 

Aelin looked at Rowan, grasping his hands. “Are we really doing this?” she whispered, her breath hitching. 

He grinned at her, eyes bright. “We’re really doing this.” 

The officiant cleared his throat politely, and Aelin snapped her attention back to the ceremony. With a smile bright enough to shame the sun, she met Rowan’s gaze. “I do.” 

~

Three Hours Earlier

“So, to clarify, you’re actively trying to give your entire family and his entire family a massive heart attack?” 

“That’s exactly what we’re going for.” Aelin smirked at her best friend. “Are you in, maid of honor?” 

“Hell yes!” Lysandra kicked her feet giddily. “We need to go find you a dress like, now!” 

Aelin laughed. “One step at a time, Lys.” 

“Bullshit.” The brunette leapt to her feet and caught Aelin’s hand. “I wasn’t expecting this at all, since you and your mom have been planning a big-ass wedding ever since you and Ro got engaged, but you go, girlie. And if it’s your wedding day, you need a dress. Now.” 

“What if I told you I already have a dress?” Aelin and Rowan had gotten engaged just over a year ago, and Lys was right—practically since the day Aelin came home with that emerald glittering on her left hand, Evalin Ashryver had been in full event-planning mode. 

Lys stopped in her tracks. “You do not.” 

“Oh, I do.” Aelin’s grin turned wicked as she crossed the hotel room and opened the closet, revealing a garment bag that she unzipped. With a flourish, she pulled the dress out of the bag, and it unfurled in a spill of white silk. 

“Holy fuck!” Lys stared at the sleeveless sheath dress, examining its beautiful tailoring and the slit running up one seam. “Where did you get that?” 

“Ells knows people.” Aelin shrugged. Elide Lochan, another of her close friends and one of her bridesmaids, worked as a modeling agent, and she was always picking up clothes from various designers that she gave to her friends. “I had a few alterations done, and here we go.” She hung the dress up and picked up a smaller, flat box. “And I have my mom’s veil, so she can’t be too mad at me for defying tradition.” 

Lys laughed at that. “I still stand by my heart attack statement.” 

“Oh, you were a hundred percent right about that.” Aelin glanced over at her phone, where her notifications had been pinging for almost a whole minute. “Lys, what the fuck? Did you text the groupchat?” 

“Of course I did!” Lys patted Aelin’s shoulder. “Just the one with you, me, Rowan, and Lorcan.” 

“That’s marginally better.” Lorcan was Rowan’s best man, so the groupchat with just the four of them was where they handled most of the wedding details. Aelin looked at the string of texts. “Why is Lorcan asking if we have a limo?” 

“We’re in Vegas, baby!” Lys beamed. “Why shouldn’t you get a limo?” 

“Because they’re tourist traps, and before you say it, hell no. We’re not getting married by Elvis.” 

Lys frowned. “What happened to your sense of adventure?” 

“Ro and I already went and applied for a marriage license at the courthouse, and we have an appointment there later today.” Aelin flicked Lys’s shoulder. “We aren’t drunk enough to get married by some middle-aged man in a shitty Elvis suit.” 

“Fair enough.” Lysandra rolled her shoulders. “All right, lady, you better have brought all of your hair and makeup stuff, because so help me gods, you’ll be the most glamorous bride in the courthouse.” 

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it.” Aelin grinned and opened up her makeup bag. 

~

A good two hours later, she had her makeup done and her hair resting in rollers, lips held apart as the smudge-proof scarlet lipstick dried. Lysandra made her close her eyes as she sprayed her face with setting spray, and Aelin obediently sat and waited until Lys told her she could open her eyes and stand up. She looked at herself in the mirror, and she beamed. 

“I love you, Lyssie.” 

“Love you too, Aelie.” 

Aelin wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, why? We’re not in college anymore.” 

Lys snickered. “You said it first.” 

“Oh, fine.” Aelin went over to the closet, dropped her robe, and let Lysandra help her into the dress, carefully sliding up the zipper in the back. She turned slowly, admiring the way the silk flowed over the lines of her figure, molded to her body. The slit climbed up her left leg, stopping at the middle of her thigh, and the heels she’d brought paired perfectly with the sleek look of the dress. 

Behind her, Lys sniffled as she pinned the veil into Aelin’s curls. “You’re really a bride,” she murmured, and Aelin turned and flung her arms around her best friend. 

“You’re the best maid of honor,” Aelin murmured thickly. 

Lys managed a smile. “Of course I am.” She blinked back the sheen of her tears. “Let’s go get you married.” 

She and Aelin went downstairs to the hotel lobby, and a car was waiting at the curb. They climbed into the back seat and went off to the courthouse, only a short drive from the hotel. As she hopped out of the car, Aelin looked across the limestone steps, a smile unfurling across her face when she saw Rowan and Lorcan standing shoulder to shoulder at the bottom of the stairs. 

“Hey there, handsome,” she hummed, touching his shoulder. 

He turned, and wonder suffused his face as he gawked at her in her wedding dress. “Holy gods, Fireheart,” he finally managed to say. “You’re so beautiful.” 

She blushed under her makeup. “Thank you, love.” She swept a long look up and down his figure, appreciating the fit of his tux. “You look stunning, too.” 

“Luckiest man in the world,” he murmured, holding out his hand. “Ready?” 

“For you? Yes.” She tucked her hand into his, and they walked up the courthouse steps together. 

They checked in at the reception desk in the lobby, and an aide led them back to a small, unassuming courtroom. It looked like an office, just with a small version of a judge’s bench in place of a desk. The placard on the desk read “Justice of the Peace,” meaning that the man behind the desk was officially authorized to perform weddings and other official duties. He greeted them and had Aelin and Rowan stand facing each other in front of the bench, with Lysandra and Lorcan a couple steps away as the witnesses. Hand in hand with Rowan, Aelin lost herself in his gaze as the officiant began the wedding ceremony. 

~

“Do you, Rowan Whitethorn, take Aelin Galathynius as your lawfully wedded wife?” 

Rowan’s eyes were soft and filled with love. “I do.” 

“And do you, Aelin Galathynius, take Rowan Whitethorn as your lawfully wedded husband?” 

Aelin smiled. “I do.” 

They exchanged rings, Aelin sliding a steel-gray platinum band with an inlay of tiny rubies onto Rowan’s finger and Rowan slipping a gold band engraved with a subtle flame design onto Aelin’s finger, tucking it into place beside her engagement ring. 

“With the authority vested in me by the state of Nevada, I hereby declare you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride.” 

Rowan smoothly hooked an arm around Aelin’s waist and dipped her into a fervent kiss. 

Behind them, Lysandra whooped, applauding vividly. Lorcan joined in, whistling lowly when Rowan finally pulled away and set Aelin upright on her feet. She was smiling brighter than he’d ever seen her smile, her joy warming his heart, and his smile matched hers. 

“Hi, husband,” she whispered. 

He kissed her again. “Hi, wife.” 

Aelin raised her and Rowan’s hands into the air like a winning boxer as they walked out of the courthouse and down the steps. They climbed into the car that was waiting for them, Lys and Lorcan following, and they drove off to the hotel, where the families were gathered for what they thought was going to be an engagement party. Aelin’s mother had repeatedly questioned her daughter’s desire to hold her party in Vegas, but she begrudgingly agreed when Aelin told her that was where the bachelor and bachelorette trips were going to be. 

Lorcan and Lysandra went into the hotel event space first, giving Aelin and Rowan a few minutes to themselves. She and Lys had planned it out during the drive—the best man and maid of honor would say some words of welcome, and when Aelin and Rowan were ready, they’d walk in and be announced as Mr. and Mrs. to everyone’s shock. 

“Ready?” Rowan asked, wrapping one arm low around Aelin’s hips. 

She flicked a sultry glance up at him. “I might need a few more minutes.” Even in her heels, she still had to rise up to kiss him, and in a blur of hazy kisses, she’d tugged him into the closest coat closet. It was empty except for some hangers, since nobody was wearing a jacket in Vegas, and he backed her swiftly against the shelves, his lips attached to her neck. 

“Love you so much,” he murmured against her skin. 

She wove her fingers into his hair. “Love you more, Ro.” 

A fist thudded against the door, shattering their little bubble. “Break it up, you two,” Lorcan grumbled. “I’m not opening this door, but you might want to get your lovebird asses out here.” 

“Jackass,” Rowan muttered. 

Aelin snickered. “Thank you, Lor darling.” 

“Gods above.” Lorcan left, probably rolling his eyes. 

“We should go,” Aelin whispered, deftly tucking Rowan’s shirt back into place. 

He raised a brow. “Do we have to?” 

“I want to show you off, husband.” She kissed the corner of his jaw. “Please?” 

“Anything for you, love.” He laced his fingers with hers and led her down the hallway and through the double doors into the event space, where their family and friends were gathered. 

Lysandra leaned into the microphone in her hand as the couple walked in. “Mr. and Mrs. Whitethorn, everyone!” she whooped. 

And the crowd went wild.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

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@fauna-flora11

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

@mysterylilycheeta

[solplease]

i've been very excited to post this but here are my ocs haha!! meet lune, cecilia, nox, and aster!

close ups, more info, and a more detailed relationship chart under the cut! this is gonna be a long post haha. there's also some more info about rowan!

cecilia's twin (he's the older twin) ((by two minutes. lol))

the type to go “here to here, i’ll buy it all”

he's got a temper

possessive, devoted, and jealous yandere

people think he's a tad bit insane (and he's self aware mostly,,)

gets into fights often

“want me to kill that guy for you?” (he’s serious btw)

he’s not nice lmao, but to you he is (in his own special way of course..!)

kind of like a cat who will proudly leave dead rats and leaves on your doorstep as a gift bc it thinks you can’t hunt for yourself

hates nox LMFAO

difficult to approach at first but once you get close he won’t ever let you go.

extroverted

LOUD. someone shut him up, this mf does NOT stop yapping bro

annoying as hell and he doesn’t know that lmao

if he absolutely has to, he’ll behave. but it's... odd

constantly needs to be doing something or he’ll get bored lol

has a bit of a sweet tooth (typical)

Bastard (not literally)

played the piano when he was younger with his sister, but he hated playing it

bad terms with his family except for cecilia

huge rebellious streak

shockingly will not kidnap you! everyone already knows you’re his, and he’s yours. and he won’t let anyone get in between you two. yay..!

hates it when you don’t pay attention to him (will absolutely start sulking too)

he’s impulsive but he’s not completely reckless

you probs shouldn’t trust him too much though he has good (????) intentions lol

seems silly (debatable really) but he’s dangerous.

half of the things he says sound like jokes but trust me, he means it. he’d do anything and everything for you, don’t forget!

shockingly pouty and whiny, only in front of you though

him and cecilia have matching bracelets from when they were younger which they both wear to this day

he’s oblivious as fuck, and an idiot

lune's twin (she's younger)

normal (somewhat) ((not really))

sweet and friendly

really likes giving gifts to people she cares about

jumps to conclusion and freaks out easily, but she’s subtle about it

constantly stressed (lune is her brother, so… i get it)

introverted (runs on a social battery)

says things without thinking sometimes

people pleaser

awkward as hell tbh, but it’s really not obvious because she’s good at putting on a front 

kinda has the ”””””princely””””” persona (i didnt know how to describe that better lmao

has abandonment issues

girlfail tbh

hardworking

shes really protective of her loved ones

likes cute things

has issues with her family but still talks to them (lune does NOT)

on really good terms with lune, they’re very close (even though he’s a huge troublemaker that stresses the shit out of her) ((if he fucks around too much she’ll give him a good smack))

packs a good punch

SENSITIVE…

potential yandere? still not too sure if i’ll make her a fully fledged yan but she def has some of the traits lol

her and lune have matching bracelets from when they were younger! (she wears it everyday!)

she doesn’t mean to put on a front it just kinda happens automatically lmao

could kill someone... probably wouldnt tho

used to play the piano with lune, she still plays it now too (as a hobby)

cunning and annoying

def the type to kidnap you

oddly sweet (???)

but also ominous as hell

docile with the one he loves

isolating and manipulative yandere

dislikes lune

nice but you can tell he’s putting up a wall (with strangers and friends)

introverted

wouldn’t put stalking past him tbh

he’s the type that wants to know everything about you.

he has a tough time interacting with others. he feels awkward in social situations

the type to go to a party and spend the whole time petting the cat in the corner (he would not go to the party in the first place tho lmao)

he’s not misunderstood tho, he just can’t socialize and doesn’t really want to

grabs the end of your shirt in an awkward situation (its kinda cute)

takes time to open up, but when he falls for you, his love is so strong, it’s almost overwhelming. so just accept him, alright?

shittiest sleep schedule known to man, like srsly, what is bro doing

this man’s brain probs short circuits every 5 minutes LMFAO go to bed you idiot

really good with his words, very convincing

loves cats

hidden piercings

careful and patient

is really good at taking care of others (but he would only wanna take care of you) you’ll let him, won’t you?

startles easily lol

elf oc

ditzy and kind (to you)

bit of a mean streak (not to you!) 

wants to appear princely in front of you

kinda stupid (a farce but not completely lol)

has a bit of a temper, but nothing too bad

clingy and cunning yandere

two faced

struggles with empathy (he tries, he’s not human, what’s he supposed to do!)

extroverted (?)

he’s really lonely

when he met you for the first time he was absolutely fascinated as he’s never interacted with a human being before!

BLUNT. he’s not used to convos… just give him some time!

at first it was simple curiosity, but that curiosity turned into something… deeper

he was completely alone before this, but now you’re here, and you’re going to stay, right? 

is obsessed with the idea of you staying here with him forever, so why do you keep talking about going home? can’t you stay here? 

but then you bring up the idea of him coming with you, well why didn’t you say that earlier! he's happy to come with you

It takes him some time to grasp certain concepts so please be patient with him, he’s not used to humans

he’s paranoid and hostile to other humans. it’s not fair, he wants all of your attention, so why is everyone trying to take you from him? he doesn’t like that everyone is getting in his way… 

he’s terrified of bugs. will scream incredibly loudly if he sees one lol

he pulled you through a mirror, that’s how you ended up in his land

so if you wanna go back, just ask and he’ll take you! 

gives you jewelry, expensive jewelry. (maybe he’s slipped on a ring before. haha. jk… unless..?)

prefers to stay inside your place because he really doesn’t like people who aren’t you lmao

don’t stray too far from him, okay? he’s always waiting for you

rowan (who i don't have a new drawing of rn </3 sorry!):

he absolutely hates not being a priority, so please don’t ignore him. please? he just wants you to love him.

clingy, devoted, and obsessive yandere

if you don’t reciprocate he might (unknowingly) try to guilt you into liking him back. will appear like a kicked puppy to really sell it (but it’s not an act lol he’s just like this)

at least his intentions are pure! (?????????) but is that better..?

if when (it will happen) you two end up together, he’ll give you the world if you’d asked for it

used to cut his own hair! :D (not great at it tho tbh)

very attentive and will work hard to keep you happy! just don’t forget that you’ll love only each other for the rest of your life. please don’t leave.

has tripped over nothing, will definitely happen again

here's the shitty relationship chart that i rushed </3 its very ugly im sorry HAHA

i really want to clarify that NONE of them will ever hurt you physically on purpose (they might have to pay up for emotional damages tho. they have your best interest in mind ig)

also i would say that they all share some traits like being clingy, devoted, possessive, obsessive, jealous, protective, and loyal. but if i specifically wrote it, it's probs just a bit more intense... just a bit,,, haha...

[thetonethetollandthethunder]

Scythe chapter 16-20!!

Ayy we’re backk!! Let’s just get started shall we?

Chapter 16!!

-oh god the elegy—

-“Could you imagine me as a teenager?” OH YES I CAN OHOHO

-This also shows how much power scythes and especially Goddard has

-And also shows how bad of a scythe Goddard is as well

-Scythe Curie makes a good point that also relates to the toll, in which it doesn’t matter if they kill Goddard or anyone like him because another with the same ideology will always come along without fail

-this chapter didn’t have much but it IS good so ykyk

Chapter 17!!

-OHHH ITS THE MOMENT THAT EVERYONE LOSES THEIR MINDS OVER!! SCYTHE FARADAY IS D-D-DEAD or is he? :) :)

-Rowan instinctively trying to protect Citra!!!

-it makes sense for most disabilities to be nonexistent but that doesn’t mean I have to like it :/ like idk why the way it’s done is just :// especially as a disabled person myself

-The way the describe Faraday’d death is already suspicious if you already know he isn’t dead but when you’re first reading it, it does make sense!

-OH AND THE SEPARATE TRAININGS BEGINS!!!

-“If I ever take on an apprentice it will be for a different reason entirely.” OHOHO I KNOW I KNOWWWW

-Again not much to say BUT still rlly good!!

Chapter 18!!!

-Part 3 begins!!

-SCYTHE CURIE!!

-Again I always forget the names of these places, falling water is a very pretty name!!

-Citra being angry about Faraday’s death OUGH, she’s rlly going through 5 stages of grieve style

-Could you imagine ppl in the future calling our decor and shit old fashioned? Bizarre

-I love how they make Curie instantly charming and likable with only a few scenes, good writing man!!

-What hobbies would other scythes have? I wonder…

-Fun fact, i cannot drive, tried to learn and crashed the car, oh how I wish driving wasn’t necessary like in scythe

-Giving us little notes about the comfort scythes can give

-We hear a lot about being stagnant in the Scythe universe, and like, yeah, if you were in this utopia wouldn’t you grow stagnant even quicker than most? You have nothing to do literally

-You can really feel how observant Curie is, she noticed the small details

-Jesus even Curie’s yelling scared ME and I already knew what was gonna happen! She’s rlly intimidating—

-Gotta uphold your image!!

-“Another Scythe might have exacted a punishment far worse.” *COUGH COUGH GODDARD*

-Again shit names!! Barton Breen??? What??

-20 kids,, Jesus,,

-You can Curie’s own version of compassion, it’s different from Faradays yet still wonderful

-She did find her own way of gleaning!!

-Again FUCK Goddard!!

-I do wonder what would happen if Citra was trained by Goddard instead of Rowan…

-“Immortality has turned us all into cartoons.” GOD THAT LINEE

-Amazing chapter!! Told a LOT abt Curie!!!

CHAPTER 19!!!!

-Oo!! I thought this moment happened in Thunderhead but I misremembered!!

-Tho I THINK something similar happens??? Idk maybe my memory is fuckin with me ushejdj

-ALSO DAMN CITRA!! Pushin girls in front of TRUCKS holy fuck!!!

-Hate the eating descriptions!!

-TELL THE MOTHER YOU TWO!!! LIKE CMON??

-Cindy lmaoo, whenever someone whitewashes Citra im gonna call it Cindy instead <3 spite

-“err on the side of respect.” LMAO love that line

-RONDA ROADKILL IM DYINGGGGGG and so did she! (Temporarily but yk)

-“Can i throw you under a truck some other time?” She’s a busy person! I’d totally throw Citra under a truck! Would be fun!

-Morals change when theres little consequences, Citra would never even CONSIDER pushing Ronda in the mortal age, but since people can just come back it doesn’t seem like such a bad thing, it also shows how the concept of empathy and morality has changed in this society

-“the cloud” like icloud! Guess apple won in this world!

-“The machine had a purer soul than any human” NO IT DOESNT IVE SEEN AI ART YOU CANT FOOL ME!!!

-FUCK YOU SCYTHE GODDARD!!!

-OO TIME FOR CITRA TO INVESTIGATE!! I remember LOVING this plot so!!!!

Chapter 20!!

-Rowan finally!!! I missed you!!!!!

-He doesn’t wanna kill Citra!!! The beginning of his devotion to her UGHHH

-god hes only 17, I think we forgot how young these characters are, they really are just kids being pushed into this horrible situation god,,,

-“His was a life without substance, and now it would end.” God and here we see Rowan’s iconic self deprecating “emo” moments, people make fun of these scenes a lot but I fucking love em, it really contrasts Rowan and Citra. Citra has people who love and care about her, Rowan doesn’t, he knows that (in this moment) if he died no one would really care or remember him, so when he finds Citra, someone who does care about him and would care if he died, he clings to it. I mean when you’re that neglected and want SOMEONE to care even a little about you, wouldn’t you do the same thing?

-He already wants to change things!! And he will!! He will change a lot, though not as much as his girlfriend!!

-VOLTA!!

-“So is there a reason why you choose your robes to be the color of piss?” HA one of my favorite lines!!

-“the Change” god their ideology—, the fact they’re all thinking that they’re changing things for the better really shows how convincing of a man Goddard is, GOD i hate him!!!

-Ans here we have Goddard’s MANY parties

-my sensory issues would hate this

-I accidentally spelled Goddard’s name as Goodard which…Isn’t that so Ironic?

-“Bimbotech” Neal I’m BEGGING you to stop

-“Rowan wondered if the man had a diamond-studded bathing suit in his waredrobe as well.” He would because he’s a vain prick!!

-HES UNDERAGE STOP GIVING HIM ALCOHOL!! *Looking at you RAND especially ya creep—*

-“He was lucky if they even remembered to get him a gift” rowans parents man,,, He was really fucking neglected man it’s so awful, and the fact he still cares about them despite that GODDD

-See how goddard bend the rules? See how he twists them to make them fit what HE wants? Yeah, he’s gonna do that a lot; again, fuck you Goddard

-ESME!!! Shes backk!! And he’s right! She’ll be important!!

-GOD this is a good chapter, rowan my beloved!!

And that’s it!!! Next time will be chapters 21-25!! We’re going so fast aren’t we?

[justredthingsblog]

Oh, it will be a fanfiction, friends. And before we get into the fun, I'd like to give two warnings: - Urinating and other bodily functions are discussed and - Verso's alcoholism is heavily implied

”So… you humans spar for pleasure and not victory? Is it not important to you which one wins?”

Monoco’s wooden fingers combed lazily through Verso’s hair, detangling knots and massaging his scalp. Verso chuckled, leaning back against his friend’s chest.

”That’s the fun part, both parties can win. Sometimes multiple times. It’s… kind of a team sport.”

”How do you win it then?”

”That’s… that’s a good question, Monoco. Sometimes you win when you come, other times when the other guy comes, or when both do.”

”I thought both of you had to already be there?”

”Oh, no, it’s…” The man raised a bottle to his lips and took an indulgent sip.

”When you spill, or… An orgasm. The feeling when you win and your mind goes blank and you feel only victorious joy.”

”Verso, that is winning. So… you win, by winning?”

”Well… yes. You find just the right pattern and rhythm and then you win.”

”This sounds suspiciously like fencing still. How does the pissing factor in?”

”For the last time, that’s not pissing. When we piss we just remove excess water, okay? We we have sex, that’s a different fluid.”

”Sure, Verso. It’s a different, magical kind of water. Keep your little wet secrets.”

”Monoco, love, I’m not pulling your leg here.”

”But you pull your own special leg when you are alone, pissing.”

Verso’s expression froze.

”I wouldn’t mind, Verso. I polish my feet when we sit together by the fire. We could both polish our feet together.”

”You don’t know what you are asking.”

”And you do?”

Verso sat quietly for a long time, looking into the fire. Monoco leaned against his shoulder, arms wrapping around the man.

”It’s okay, Verso. I know I fence much better than you. Losing must get boring to you.”

”That… is not it even a little bit. You know what? Fine. Fuck it. I will finish this bottle and...”

”Then we will snuggle and sleep. You do silly things when you drink this much, Verso.” The gestral’s voice was a warm, low rumble in the man’s ear.

”Come here, let me hold you. You don’t need more wine.”

The sunlight filtering through the leaves had warmed the air and even the water in the zink tub comfortably. Verso awoke from his slumber when the tip of his nose sank beneath the surface, startling. Monoco had stayed suspiciously quiet, quiet enough to let him float into sleep in the tub.

”You still there?”

”Uh huh.”

”Are you okay, Monoco?”

”Yes.”

”Are you mad at me or something?”

”No.”

The last time Monoco had been this quiet for this long, he had lovingly taken apart the record player and arranged each part onto the table. It was still disassembled, neither of them knowing how to put it back together like it had been. Monoco was good at that, taking things apart like that.

Verso rose from the water and grabbed his coarse linen towel, wrapping it around his hips to look behind the wowen partition, water still dripping down his body and from the unruly tangle of his hair.

True to his word, Monoco was working, carefully sanding a delicately carved piece of wood. His full attention was captured by the rowan he’d used to make a fine bow for Verso earlier.

”What’s that?” Verso leaned closer to admire the flawless handiwork.

”A new foot.”

”Isn’t that a little short?”

”This is a special foot. Do you like it?”

The man considered, head tilted.

”It’s beautifully made, Monoco. Didn’t know you cared this much about the fine details. What are you planning to do with it?”

”You.”

”Oh.”

”That’s what you said to your expeditioner friend too. Does that mean it’s good?”

”I… uh...” Verso took a long, deliberate breath, then carefully took the artifact to his hand. It was heavy and solid, sanded and polished to perfection. Swirls of raised carvings decorated the surface. It was, without a doubt, Monoco’s best craftmaship so far.

”It’s a really well made piece, wow.”

”Verso. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t feel like it. We don’t have to fence.” His palm was on Verso’s naked shoulder and despite the mask, Verso could feel the gestral’s smile radiating towards him.

”I love you just the same. You’re my favourite person.”

Verso blinked and with some effort, shrugged the stunned silence off.

”It’s not that, it’s just, wow… I did not know you were so serious about it. I would have prepared some kind of a celebration for the launch or something. Shit. It’s a really nice cock, Monoco. Congratulations on your new member?”

It was a really nice cock. In the shade of their shelter, resting atop an oil-soaked rag and absorbing linseed oil, Monoco’s new cock was almost glistening. The gestral had gone out to look for mushrooms and wild beetroot, while Verso, still nursing a hangover, had promised to gather firewood, make a good fire for the day’s meal, and brew tea. While gestrals didn’t eat, Monoco loved the rich aroma of tea and herbal drinks and often carefully tinted his wood darker with it to keep the scent lingering around for longer.

Opening a worn and well-loved sachet of dried tea leaves, orange peels and flowers, Verso furrowed his brow. Monoco did not have a nose. None of the gestrals he had seen had one.

Taking a long, savouring breath, Verso poured some of the tea mixture into their trusty copper tea pot. The scent reminded him of long winter nights and dark days in the mountains, when he did not feel like getting up at all and Monoco held him in their shared bed. Who had the perfume been for?

”I found goatweed and nettles and raspberries too!” The joy beaming from the gestral’s form illuminated the whole shelter. He had grossly overdone it, as usual, and could certainly feed four or five Versos with the day’s foraging, a woven basket overflowing with foraged goods.

”You have slain your botanical enemies!” Verso announced. While the food was obviously too much, so was everything else Monoco did. Always too much and it was always just right.

”And brought their carcasses to be a burnt offering!”

”Hm, perhaps a well caramellized offering?”

”It has been foretold. The scent of their caramellized flesh pleases the spirits!”

”Monoco, do you have a sense of smell?”

The gestral almost dropped the basket, leaning closer to study his friend’s face.

”Verso, have you been drinking again? So early in the day. I thought we’d go on a hike later.”

”No? Why?”

”Are you allright?”

”I am, I swear. I just need to know if you can sense smells.”

”Well rest assured I can, I have not burnt your noxious socks for nothing. Their pungent malodour has made me wonder if you surely have a sense of smell.”

”Huh. That’s… Cool. Please stop burning my socks, Monoco, they can be washed.”

”No, they can not. They are an insult, Verso.”

With some difficulty, the gestral sat down next to Verso on the too narrow tree stump next to the fire. The perfume of aromatic tea greeted him from the pot before he even lifted the lid to check.

”And… you don’t have ears, do you?”

”Verso, you know every inch of me. No, I don’t have ears.”

”That is… huh. That is interesting. Hey, one more.”

”Is this some kind of a game? How do I win?”

”This is more of a team sport, okay? Just stay with me. Do you remember when you lost a finger while battling that huge crab thing and I made a new one for you?”

”Verso, I could not forget, you literally wrote your name on it.” The gestral brushed Verso’s hair off his face with the infamous finger.

”Do you want to go fight the crab thing again, Verso?”

”No, or well, maybe, we have leveled up some after that but… Wait, we’re getting distracted here. Does that finger work normally?”

”Well… yes? It moves, it bends, I can feel it just fine, if only some jackass did not sign it like a newly awoken patate signs his first wooden sword.”

”Huh. That’s… You know what? I think your new special foot might be pretty cool, Monoco.”

... to be continued, again

Should this become an actual fanfiction?

Fandom: Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 Rating: very yes, all the rating, very explicit Pairing: Monoco / Verso Summary: Years into their special friendship, Monoco and Verso finally sit down to define some important boundaries. Smut might ensue.

Imagine a title right here

”Lying bastard.”

”What was that, Monoco?”

”Lying. Bastard.” The gestral dropped from the branch of an ancient tree with the grace of a stalking predator.

”You. Are the liar and the coward.” He stepped closer to the man, and then closer still.

”What exactly have I done now? Were we not okay a couple of hours ago?”

”We were. And then you lied, Verso. ’I don’t want to fence right now, Monoco. I have other plans.’ And then you fenced anyway, with the expeditioner.”

”That wasn’t… I did not...”

”He was an easier challenger, huh. You should have told me you wanted me to go easy on you.”

”Would you go easy on me if I asked?”

”No.” The hurt in the gestral’s voice was beginning to melt away, but his posture remained stern.

”You are still a lying liar, Verso. You wouldn’t fence with me but fenced with the expeditioner anyway. I saw.”

”You… Oh… That was not fencing, Monoco.”

”Lies, lies, lies. You polished his foot and you fenced and you made him piss himself, but that’s just because he was a weak opponent. I would have offered a much harder challenge.”

”For the love of… I did not lie. That’s not fencing, Monoco.” Verso’s voice was trembling, a mixture of humiliation, laughter and utter disbelief.

”How about you take your ’that’s not fencing, Monoco’ and your puny foot collection of one and spoon with your stupid expeditioner for the night while I polish my superior foot collection.”

”Monoco, love… Are you jealous?” Verso reached out to pet the fur of the gestral’s arm, and despite the spite, he leaned in to the caress.

”Yes. You said you did not want to fence and then you fenced behind my back.”

”Okay, okay. It still was not fencing, but I hear you. Does it bother you I spend time with the expeditioners, Monoco?”

”No. It was a fun match to watch too, but you have to be honest, Verso.”

”I...” Verso took the longest breath in decades, wiped his face with his palm and sighed. ”That kind of a match is called sex, Monoco. It’s something humans do with their special feet and… other parts. It’s really not nice to watch us doing it without permission.”

”Okay. Can I watch next time you do it, Verso?”

”I… Why on Earth would you want to… I don’t have enough wine in my system for this conversation right now, Monoco.”

”Ah. Okay. I will get right back to the sex when you have had more wine. Come here, I don’t want us to stay mad.” Monoco wrapped his arms around the man and pulled him into a rib-crushing hug.

A gestral’s attention span was 120 seconds long at most. Except when it wasn’t.

”Have you had enough wine now, Verso?”

”No, I’m literally frying an omelette right now.”

”Oh, okay. Tell me when you have.”

”You are already male, right? Do you have to keep doing the sex so you don’t lose your special foot, Verso?”

”Monoco, I am sleeping. Was sleeping. Shush.”

”Fine.”

”Verso…?”

”Not. Now. Get me out of this goddamn bourgeon’s mouth right now!”

”Verso?”

”Monoco, I am pissing.”

”Yes, I can see. With your special foot.”

”That is the problem, Monoco. You are watching me piss.”

”I watch you do everything. Why was it not a problem when you watched the expeditioner piss?”

”Stop! Your stare is burning a hole in my prick here!”

”Watching is out of the question but you’d polish his foot when he does it?!”

”Monoco, we are not… Look… Okay. Okay. Give me a minute, then we talk about it.”

... to be continued???

[gxdsfavgal]

I don’t really like you

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Fem!Agro!reader

Warning: angst, mentions of death, arguments, teasing, making out, early start of smut, almost getting caught, there will be a part 2 (smut), very scrambled writing, not edited

A/N: reader has agrokinesis which is the power to control/manipulate plants/earth stuff lol… also pls comment if you want to be tagged in part 2

Update: part 2 here!

-

-

Wednesday is finally enrolled at Nevermore after years of trying to convince her. I’ve known her since we were little, we had our own little trio whenever our parents would have dinners. It was always Wednesday, Xavier, and I, and occasionally Pugsley.

Our parents all met at Nevermore, all of them part of the Nightshades. Of course, we had to follow in their footsteps.

The news spread fast around campus, talking about what she did at her other schools. I saw her with Enid while having a tour of the school.

“Wednesday!” I hollered from the door I was leaning against.

She quickly turned around and with a confused and pale face, her eyes widened.

I walked up to her with open arms, I knew she wouldn’t give into the hug but it was worth a try.

“Y/n.” she sent a quickly smirk as we nodded to each other.

“You two know each other?” Enid cocked her head.

“Since diapers.” Wednesday spoke with her monotone voice as the three of us walked around the courtyard.

“Yeah Wednesday, Xavier, and I.” I muttered out.

“Wait. You mean to tell me that you and Xavier used to be friends?” Enid threw her hands in the air as she spoke loud.

“Enid, shut up.” I was quick to cover her mouth with my hand. I looked around the courtyard to see if anyone heard, and of course Xavier was looking right as us.

“You aren’t friends with Xavier anymore?” Wednesday asked.

“They’re always argu-”3

“Enid. I don't want to talk about it. It was nice seeing you Wednesday.” I sent her and Enid a small smile before walking away.

-

It’s been a few days since Wednesday arrived, she’s always getting in trouble. Though, last night she decided to do her own little tour of the school.

“What did you tell Wednesday?” Xavier stopped me while I was on my way to my dorm.

“That she can sneak into the kitchen pantry and steal snacks?” I questioned, trying to swerve away from him to get to my room.

He followed behind me heading up to the girls corridors.

“What? No. You told her about what happened that night.” his big eyes showed that he wasn’t messing around.

“I literally didn’t tell her anything, I erased that night from my mind.” I pointed to my temple. “Probably should’ve asked one of the sirens to make me forget.”

I shoved past him and continued walking down the long hallway to my room, his heavy steps close behind mine.

Once I opened my door, I tried to close it as fast as possible but he slid through.

“God can you leave me alone?” I groaned loudly, throwing my book bag onto my bed.

“How does she know about the Nightshade library and what happened that night?” he asked towering over me.

“Xavier, I don’t fucking know how she knows!” I threw my hands in the air in annoyance. “Why do you care about her knowing?”

“Fuck. I don’t care about her knowing, it’s about the elder Nightshades knowing! About our families knowing!” he was close to be now, his neck turning red from his anger.

“You did this to yourself. I told all of you he didn’t seem like himself, you knew since you were his roommate. I told you guys not to kick him out, plus you let them embarrass me. I haven’t even told my family that i’m not a Nightshade anymore.”

“You got yourself kicked out, you thought you could help Rowan with your plants. He almost killed that kid.” he waved his hand around signaling all my plants.

“I saved that normie with my plants, don’t forget that. If it wasn’t for me, we’d all be wanted by the normies. You’re part of the reason he’s dead. And don’t even deny it, you know that wasn’t him after the fair.” that shut him up quick, he knows i’m right.

He shook his head and made his way to my door. “Wednesday declined the offer.”

“Good. We don’t need anymore egotistic skinny dippers here.”

Then he was gone. My heart was racing. I haven’t talked to Xavier in a few months, and I definitely didn’t expect the first time to be an argument.

-

I heard a knock at my window, it possibly could just be the old welding creaking. It’s midnight, who would be outside my window at midnight?

knock knock.

I quickly and quietly wrapped myself in my blanket and nervously walked towards the window. I opened it and looked around to see who was there, nobody. 

I was about to close my window until I saw a blur in my peripheral vision. It was Thing, giving some sassy attitude because I couldn't see him.

“What?” I whispered to him, rubbing my tired eyes.

He started signing to me, telling me things with his fingers.

“Slow down. Wednesday? What? She needs me to- stop.” I quietly barked at him.

“Why does she need me to go into the Nightshade library if she has total access?” 

He began to sign again, having a slight attitude with the way he moved.

“Fine. But make sure to tell her to stay out of trouble if she’s one strike away from getting expelled, and that she owes me.” 

He understood and nodded then made his way out of the window.

I quickly put on my hoodie and grabbed my phone before sneaking out of my dorm. The corridors were dim and quiet as I crept down to the Poe statue.

I stood in front of the old statue and held my hand up. "snap twice." I breathed out.

My thumb and middle finger rubbed against each other quickly, letting out those two snaps. The statue grinding against the concrete floor, opening and revealing the stairs to the secret library.

I walked down the cobwebbed filled stairs, shivering from the cold of the lower level.

I reached the library, walking over to see the picture of my parents hanging up on the wall. The Addams and Thorpe family next to my parents frame.

“What are you doing here?”

My hand shot up and clenched into a fist to conjure a strong vine to grab the owner of the voice. I tightened my fist to make sure the vines were tight and strong. 

I turned around and saw my vines holding down the hands of Xavier. I loudly sighed and rolled my eyes knowing that he’s in my way again.

“Let me go.” he struggled against the vines. His white shirt loose on him as his sweatpants were tied.

“Why would you creep up on me?” I jerked my head forward, my hand unclenching to release him.

“Why are you here?” he rubbed at his wrists.

I ignored him and moved towards the large shelf of books. My fingers dragged along the dusty spines of the book, trying to find the book.

“You shouldn’t be here.” he followed behind me with every step I took, so close that I can feel his breath on my hair.

“I can be here if I want to.” I turned to face him but he bumped into my chest from the quick halt. “But don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

I have a sarcastic smile and turned back to looking for the book that Wednesday needed.

“But to answer your question, I’m here for Wednesday.” I crouched down to the books on the lower shelf.

“Why couldn’t she come here herself?” he asked, leaning against the bookshelf as he looked down at me.

“Why are you here?” I looked up at him. Looking up at him from this angle brought thoughts in my mind that I didn’t need.

“Im actually a Nightshade, you on the other hand aren’t.” his arms crossed over his chest.

I quickly stood up to face him, he towered over me. I looked up at him, his nose flaring a tad as we had a stare off while we were merely an inch apart from each other.

He was the first one to look away, rolling his eyes and turning his head. I turned around and started looking for the book again. 

“Are you going to help me look or just keep breathing down my back?” I asked him with a playful tone.

He put his arms up in surrender, walking away to the desk where his things were set up. He sat on the chair and continued his sketch.

“Fucking finally!” I sighed out as I grabbed the needed book from the shelf and held it against my chest.

I walked over to Xavier, standing behind him as I watched his fingers smudge the led of the pencil. I couldn’t really tell what he was drawing, it was unfinished and his hand was covering most of it.

“Are you going to leave or just keep breathing down my back?” he continued drawing, not even turning to look at me.

“Hmm I don't know. Maybe I like breathing down your neck, it seems like it gets you annoyed.” I had a small grin on my face. We used to have this type of playful banter before that traumatic night, I sort of miss it.

He scoffed and I just knew he rolled his eyes because he was annoyed of me.

I took another look at his drawing, this time I’m able to see the almost finished product. It looked so familiar, he added so much detail that I felt like I knew what it was.

“What is it?” I pointed to his paper.

He closed his sketchbook harshly and dropping his pencil onto the table. He leaned on his elbows on the table, just sitting there in silence probably thinking of ways to kill me because I was annoying him.

I began to turn on my heel and silently walk towards the stairs that I came down from earlier.

“Why do you think that wasn’t Rowan?” he blurted out. His body in the chair is turned to me as I turned back on my heel to face him.

“Why don’t you believe Wednesday?” I questioned against him.

“I asked a question first.” he tilted his head, motioning for my to tell him my thoughts.

I walked closer to him, setting down the book onto the table as I leaned my hip on the edge. I made sure to keep a distance from him.

“I stopped him on his way to the car and I gave him a bundle of lavender. He said that I always knew it was his favorite. Everyone knows he’s deathly allergic to lavender.” I crossed my arms over my chest with a huff. “Now, why don’t you believe Wednesday?”

Xavier rubbed a hand over his face. “Isn’t it weird that on her first couple of days she was almost killed by Rowan, then witnessed Rowans ‘murder’ and was supposedly saved by the monster?”

I shrugged my shoulders, basically telling him in makes sense.

“It doesn't line up.” 

I rolled my eyes at him which I received a scrunched up face from him. “I think you’re in denial of his death. You’re making up excuses. Just admit that I’m right.”

He scoffed louder this time, his fingers combing back his hair. The veins in his arm were prominent and his hands were always so nice and pampered.

He went to stand up and slowly reached to grab his sketch book, but I was quick enough to get ahold of it before him.

“Give it.” his voice had a hint of playfulness behind it, but his face didn't show any sign of a smile or smirk.

“C’mon, just admit it.. and apologize to me.” I conjured a vine to hold his book against the wall with thick trailings of the plant tight around it.

“Are you serious? It’s late” he rubbed at his eyes as he held out his hand waiting for me to give him his book back.

“You just have to do two things, it’s not hard.” I had a small cocky smile on my face.

“Fine.” he rolled his eyes.

I was nice enough to loosen my vines from his book that was up against the wall. My vines bringing his book to my hands.

I cocked my eyebrow telling him to carry on and say what is needed to be said.

“Rowan is dead, and that wasn’t the real Rowan.” one of his hands stayed in a fist at his side, while the other still was holding out waiting for his book to be laid flat on his palm.

I hummed as I began to flip through his sketches.

“Dude!” he jumped out to me but I was quick to pull back, still looking through the hundreds of sketches.

“Wow, you’re really into this whole monster thing huh?” I had a sarcastic shocked face.

I moved my body over to the desk where he sat earlier, leaning my thighs against it. My eyes scanned through the pages, looking at how intricate the detailing was.

“Stop.” I jumped at me again, my body leaning back onto the table as his chest was close to mine. I clicked my tongue at his failed attempt. “Just give it.” he breathed out as he was still an inch away.

My eyes drifted to his eyes. Fuck. Those green eyes tortured me, and those lips. I really shouldn’t be feeling this type of way.

“I’ll give it if you answer a question.” I sent him a smirk.

One side of his lips tilted up, but he tried to hide it by dragging hand down his face.

“Fine.” he huffed out.

“Have you ever drawn me?” I tilted my head to the side as I watched him think through his answer. 

I can tell by the way his mouth opens and closes that he doesn't know if he should say. I already know the answer.

“Tick tock.” I bopped my head side to side.

“Yes.” he muttered out.

A smile formed on my face as his cheeks began to blush.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Can you say that again?” 

“Yes! Fuck, I’ve drawn you.” his hands frustratingly combed his hair back.

I flipped through his sketch book to find the page of a drawing of me. My eyes were drawn to be seductive, dark, and my lips more plump. On the other page is a drawing of me laying in bed but a chain dangling over my face. 

I looked up from the page to see the same dangling chain. I look further up and see Xaviers face red from embarrassment. 

“Look, you weren’t-” I nodded and closed the book, pushing it against his stomach telling him to grab it. 

His hand grabbed it the book but I didn't let go of the book, I pulled on the book and brought him close to me again. My brought my lips to his, dropping the book onto the table.

He pulled back from the kiss. “I thought you were weirded out.” He looked at me with wide confused eyes.

I dragged my hands up to the nape of his neck, my fingers lightly scratching his scalp.

“I like weird things.” I shrugged my shoulders and pulled him back down into a kiss.

His hands moved to my hips, pulling him into me and his fingers squeezing tightly. My hands gripping his hair as we breathed heavy and our tongues clashing.

Both of us moaning into each others mouth as he pulled himself between my legs, the many layers of clothing between us. 

We suddenly heard the heavy scratch of the statue moving and footsteps tapping against the stone. Xavier and I quickly separated from each other and stood apart as we waited to see who it was.

I quickly fixed my hair and clothes, and he did the same.

“Well hello Mister Thorpe and Miss l/n.” 

“Miss Weems.” we said in sync as we nodded to her.

“It is pretty late, so I suggest that the two of you get some rest.” the tall blonde stood with her arms ushering to the entrance as she stood in a silk grey robe and matching pajama pants.

“Will do Miss.” I sent her a smile as I grabbed the book that Wednesday needed as Xavier grabbed his sketchbook and pencils.

The two of us walked up the stairs with Weems following closely behind. 

“Goodnight you two.” Weems said quietly once we reached the hallway, she then made her way down the opposite way of our corridors.

“I still hate you.” I muttered to Xavier then turned my heel to the girls corridors.

[leadpoisioning]

hello can you make a jealousy hcs with rowan? please :)

Hello!! I’ve never written anything in headcanon form before, so I hope I did it right 😭 I tried my best! <3

Rowan Laslow Jealousy HC’s

SFW Headcanons, NSFW below the cut

-This boy gets too jealous for his own good honestly.

-He was an outcast in a school full of them, so of course he got a little upset when he’d find you talking to one of his peers instead of him.

-He sees you talking with Xavier for a little too long for his liking? His mood instantly turns sour until you pay him some attention.

-He knew how Xavier was with women anyway, tortured artists weren’t that great to be around.

-He could find one reason about everyone that’d make you stop talking to them. But he wouldn’t do that to you.

-That’s when Xavier lightly taps your shoulder as the two of you share a laugh.

-Sometimes Rowan gets so ticked off he needs a spritz from his inhaler. Like now.

-When you do end your conversation and step over to him, he’s obviously pouting.

-You take notice and try to cheer him up with a hug, unaware of the dirty look and rock he sends Xavier’s way.

-Xavier trips over it and Rowan hides his laugh with another inhaler spritz.

-This was a rather tame interaction, it gets worse off campus.

-Sometimes you drag Rowan into Jericho for some coffee, he moans and groans- only because he’d rather make you some coffee in the safety of a dorm, where he didn’t have to share you with other peoples gazes.

-Usually, no one bothers you but today some normies from the high school decided to pay their barista friend a visit.

-You ignore their teases and continue talking with Rowan about a class.

-They sit down for minute, but ultimately decide to go do something else. One stays behind for a moment and then sets a napkin down in front of you on his way out.

-You read it and roll your eyes, stuffing it into your empty to-go cup and throw it away.

-This time you notice Rowan’s scowl and figure it’s time to go back on campus for a cuddle.

-Rowan slams the door behind the boy, making everyone glare at him.

-These aforementioned cuddles always cheer him up and relieve his jealousies until the next ones arise.

-He clings to your waist and lays his head on your lower stomach while your legs drape across his back.

NSFW

-“You okay now, baby?” You’d ask, running your hands through his hair.

-He mumbles something incoherent.

-“You’re gonna have to speak up, babe.”

-“Who do you belong to?” His head rises, gazing at you seductively.

-You bite your lip and decide to tease him a bit.

-“I’m not sure I follow, Ro-Ro.”

-He climbs up to straddle your waist, his arms finding their place on either side of his head.

-He leans his head down to your ear.

-“I asked, who do you belong to?”

-“Still don’t remember, maybe you need to jog my memory?”

-He smirks, beginning to kiss you roughly.

-He teases you, knee coming between your legs.

-“Wanna answer my question now, baby?”

-Deciding to finally give in, you whimper.

-“I’m all yours, Rowan.” He kisses you, quickly unbuttoning your pants.

-“Fuck baby, please.” You whine, watching as he takes himself into his hand.

-“Say it one more time for me.” He edges your cunt.

-“I’m yours Rowan, no one else’s.” You assure, moaning loudly as he pushes into you.

-He brings one of your legs onto his shoulder, hitting deeper into you.

-Your moans spur him on until he can’t take it anymore, he holds out until you moan something that makes his heart explode.

-“Rowan please! Fuck, fill me up, please. Mark me as yours.” He scrambles for his inhaler and takes a spritz as he cums. You squeeze around him and release on his cock.

-He kisses you softly, staying inside of you.

-“You’re mine.” He sighs, lowering your leg.

-“All yours.”

[theladyofdeath]

Back to Orynth {Rowan x Aelin}

Written with @snelbz

Rowaelin. Canon. The castle in Orynth. NSFW.

Based on prompt: Rowaelin mutual masturbation fic, but then they just can’t keep their hands off each other and they fuck. But in canon. Not AU. by anonymous.

Word Count: 4,166

A/N: We've decided to take a little bit of time and post more OS! We have a very long list that we're set on tackling, and although we do a lot of AUs, I like that we started with one in canon. We hope you enjoy!

WARNING: NSFW. 18+ ONLY. The following story contains descriptions of sex. No one under 18 should continue past the link.

Aelin stood on the balcony outside of her bedchamber and watched as snowflakes drifted toward the ground. It had been a fairly mild winter for Orynth, but she still couldn’t imagine that flying through the snowy winter was all that pleasant, no matter how much snow fell. Yet, she kept her eye on the horizon, expecting to see a familiar white-tailed hawk soaring through the falling flakes at any given moment. 

Aelin was growing impatient. He'd better hurry.

It had been nearly two months since she’d last seen her Mate, her husband. There had been suspicious activity along the northern border and Rowan had led the charge in the investigation, then went on to make sure that the entirety of Terrasen’s border was secured. 

Which was all fine and good, but it did mean that Aelin’s bed was cold and her heart was only half present. 

The grandfather clock in her sitting room chimed six, and knowing that the sun would soon be setting, Aelin was growing impatient. She wondered if she screamed, as loudly as she possibly could, if that would make him come faster. Surely he would hear her, he’d have to be close enough, and nothing worried Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius more than his wife in danger.

Even if he knew perfectly well that she could take care of herself. 

Territorial, over-protective fae bastard. 

Just as she was about to give up and go back inside, she could see him, the tiniest hint of his animal form in the distance. 

He flew directly towards her, without having to even think about it. It was not his first homecoming, and it certainly wouldn’t be his last. As he grew nearer, there was a flash of light, then he was landing on the stone ledge with a thump. His boots were filthy and he had a new scratch on his cheek that hadn’t fully healed, which Aelin knew meant that the original gash must have been pretty deep.

Yet, the moment he changed, his eyes were soft as he smiled at Aelin. “Nothing better to do than wait for me to arrive?”

“Well, I have a kingdom to run, but your impending arrival was distracting me,” she said, watching him fondly as he approached. 

“Glad to know I’m more important than your meetings,” he crooned, pausing before her. “I do hope you gave Lord Darrow the respect he deserves.”

“Absolutely,” she replied, eyes sparkling. “After he interrupted me for the third time, I called the meeting and spent the rest of the day in our private library.”

Save for the threat at the border, things had been prosperous since Aelin’s rule began. Trade was booming, the rebuild of the land was tedious, but created jobs the territory needed. The meeting on foreign affairs was more for pomp and circumstance than it was for a specific need.

“Our private library, huh?” He cupped her face in his hands and leaned down, finally bringing his lips to hers. The kiss was brief, but full of promise for later. “Surely you weren’t reading the texts on ancient battle strategies like I’ve suggested?”

Aelin hummed as she slid her palms up his chest and around his neck. “I assure you the strategies that I indulged in were far more…useful than any ancient battle strategy.” 

Rowan chuckled as he shook his head. “If any member of our court were to wander into our library and stumble upon a book of yours, they would be appalled at such filth.”

“And that is why I keep all the good ones in our private library.” She kissed him again, and he groaned quietly against her mouth. “You smell atrocious.” 

Rowan let go of his wife and stepped inside. “It’s been weeks since I’ve had a proper bath, I’m not sure what you were expecting.” 

“I was expecting you to at least take some soap with you in your pack. You’re a king, for the gods’ sake,” Aelin teased, following him into their sitting room and closing the double doors that led out onto the balcony. 

Rowan snorted as he took off his pack and tossed it on the couch, then began unhooking his weapons, one by one. “Who do I have to thank for putting up with your sarcastic ass while I’m away?” 

“Oh, the list is long,” Aelin crooned, watching the show he was now putting on. Once his weapons were gone, he began unbuttoning his dusty jacket. “If you’re going to thank them all, it’s going to be all you’re doing this week.”

Rowan shook his head, but she could see the slight twist of his lips as he shrugged off his jacket, adding it to the pile. “Maybe I’ll thank them by taking you off their hands for a few days.”

“Ah, I am a burden,” Aelin said, meandering over to Rowan and fisting her hands into the fabric of his thin tunic. “Are you sure you want to take on that task?” 

“I think I’ll manage,” he muttered, before kissing her once more. Aelin reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, which was growing longer once again. She loved it. 

“Take a bath,” she whispered, kissing his cheek, his jaw, his neck. “I’ll get you something to eat.”

“Don’t we have people for that?”

“I find doing things for myself keeps me humble.”

Rowan huffed a laugh before disappearing into the washroom. 

As the water ran, Aelin hurried down to the kitchens, smiling politely and greeting everyone she passed. After collecting a platter of meats, cheeses, bread, and berries, Aelin was finding her way back to her rooms. The water was still sloshing around from the washroom, so Aelin placed the platter on their table before finding her way back into her bedchamber and her wardrobe. After slipping off her gown, she pulled on a thin, golden nightgown and a knee length robe, leaving it open. She pulled the pins out of her hair, knowing that her duties for the day were complete and she would not be leaving this room any more tonight.

Collecting the book she’d been reading earlier, Aelin curled up on the couch in the sitting room, filling a glass with wine from a bottle brought straight from the personal stores of the King of Adarlan. She sipped the wine with an appreciative hum before opening her book and picking up where she’d left off.

The love interests had finally just given into their attraction for each other, desecrating every surface in the mountain side cabin in the best way. The kitchen table, the wall, the bath, the bed, Aelin couldn’t get enough as she turned page after page—

The next thing she knew, she heard the door to their bathroom opening wide and she glanced up to where her husband stood, taking up most of the doorway with his broad frame. He wore a pair of loose linen pants and…that was it. No shirt and from how low the pants hung on his hips, from what she could tell, no undershorts either.

His eyes took in where she sat on the couch, on the glass of wine on the side table and book in her hands and he smirked as he headed for the platter of food laid out on the table.

As he passed in front of the couch she sat on, Rowan froze, nostrils flaring delicately as he scented the air. Raising her eyebrows, Aelin cradled the book to her chest. “Yes?”

“What exactly are you reading?” He asked, continuing to the table the food was laid out on and leaning against it. He plucked a bunch of grapes up before picking them off one by one and popping them into his mouth.

“Nothing of your concern.” Aelin let the book fall back open in front of her, her eyes scanning the page. Rowan watched her for a moment, slowly eating his grapes, before grabbing a slice of bread and walking toward the couch. He plopped down next to her and read over her shoulder with a curse. “I repeat my earlier sentiment. Your court would be appalled if they knew of your reading material.” 

“My court should admire how in touch and confident I am with the idea of romance,” Aelin crooned, nudging her husband in the chest with her shoulder.

Rowan snorted as he bit off a piece of bread. “This is not romance. This is animalistic fucking.” 

A satisfied sensation flooded Aelin’s body as she looked up and met his gaze. “I’ve had to have some sort of companion in your absence.”

His green eyes were bright as he shoved the rest of the bread into his mouth and swallowed. “Surely this doesn’t compare.”

“No?” Aelin asked, teasingly, as Rowan dropped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple. “I don’t know. Me and my books have had some remarkable nights since you've been away.” 

Rowan’s eyes narrowed, and although humored, they darkened slightly. “So you’ve been well taken care of, then?”

“Don’t you admire how I can take care of myself?” Aelin asked, setting her book on the table beside the couch before giving her Mate her full attention. 

“Always have,” he confirmed, brushing his knuckles down her cheek. “Although I feel it defeats my purpose.” 

She loved it when he teased her, when he was playful. To the rest of the world, he was a nightmare come to life, a warrior with one intent, an ancient, powerful male who had the hands of death and the heart of a soldier. Aelin knew better. He was all of that, of course, but he was also a male who sat on the couch with her and flirted, who teased her and made her laugh.

Who made her toes curl and her most delicate parts throb uncontrollably. 

“Is that all you’re good for?” Aelin asked, shifting on the couch to straddle his lap. Rowan’s arms went around her waist, the most handsomely seductive little smile twisting his lips. “Pleasure?”

“As the husband of a queen?” he asked, one brow raised. “Yes. Yes, I’m fairly sure my only duty is to bring undeniable pleasure to Her Majesty.” 

“Hmm.” Aelin pursed her lips. “That’s quite the claim. And if I can pleasure myself just as well as you can?”

A low growl came out of Rowan. Even in their playful state, she could sense his jealousy brewing. “I’ll have to be the judge of that.”

Aelin’s heart began beating just a little bit faster, and she hadn’t even realized that her hips had begun to move, slowly rolling over his, until she asked, “Oh?”

As Rowan nodded, his lips brushed her neck. “Show me how you’ve pleasured yourself in my absence, my Queen.” 

Aelin’s eyes rolled back and she bit her lip, fighting the urge to moan. Beneath her, she knew exactly where Rowan’s mind was at. Between the hard thickness she rocked against and his scent, excitement and need bloomed in her core. 

“I don’t think you can handle such a sight,” Aelin said, her grin wild and devious. “A month and a half of travel has surely left you needy. Handsy. Possessive.” 

“I think you forget how patient I am,” he said, quietly, fingers teasing the hem of her nightgown. 

Aelin rolled her eyes. “You’re not patient. You just like to pretend you are.”

Rowan took her chin between his fingers and made her meet his gaze. “Try me.”

There was something about his tone that filled her body with fire and chaos. His eyes were bright, crazed, full of lust and longing. Aelin was sure that hers mirrored his. Every night that she had spent alone in his absence was full of wishing he was there beside her, holding her, loving her until her knees shook and every thought from her mind had evaporated. Now that he was here, all she wanted was to have him inside of her, but she would play his game. 

She would give him a show until he was begging.

Still straddling his lap, Aelin shook off her robe and took the hem of her silk nightgown, slowly pulling it over her head until it was sitting behind her on the carpet. Rowan’s hands found her waist but she shook her head, smirking as she pushed them away, back down to the couch cushions. “No touching.”

His eyes blazed as they swept from hers, to her bare breasts, then back up again. Although his breathing had increased, he didn’t protest. Instead, his cock twitched beneath her as he gripped the couch cushions on both sides of his thighs. 

Aelin took her time pulling her hair back until it was held snugly by a ribbon, and Rowan was practically growling by the time she slid her hands down her abdomen, to the band of her undergarment. 

“Is that patience of yours thinning?” she teased. 

“No,” he said, but the word was clipped, his jaw hard as his eyes trailed down her body and rested on her fingers, where they began to slide down the thin fabric of her panties. A slow, heavy breath left Rowan and his eyes darkened as the fabric swept down her thighs and every inch of her was bared before him. 

He didn’t even try to hide his lingering gaze. A gaze that Aelin felt powerful under. As Aelin ran a finger through her slick folds, Rowan cursed, low and filthy. His fingers flexed beside him, but his hands did not move. He obeyed the command of his Queen, even as Aelin moaned into the quiet space.

Even the thought of her husband had left her wet and wanting. She could slide down on him to the hilt, effortlessly, but she wouldn’t. No— she wanted to see how long this game would go, how far she could tease him without him pouncing. 

How long he could go without completely losing his shit. 

She wanted him completely unleashed.

Their joinings after time apart were already nearly cataclysmic, neither of them leaving their bed chamber for a day or two. It reminded Aelin of the true mating frenzy they’d been robbed of when Maeve stole her off that beach. As if the time they spent apart built up until it blew, until it wasn’t safe for anyone but the other to be around them.

That suited her just fine.

Dipping her finger into the well of her center, Aelin gasped softly, watching Rowan as he watched her. His nostrils flared and she knew he was scenting her, dying to bury himself in her arousal. With her other hand, she dragged her fingers up her toned stomach to her breast, cupping one. Her fingers toyed with her nipple, rolling it and teasing it until the sensitive bud was tight and peaked.

Rowan’s tongue darted out as he wet his lips, the only sign that he was struggling. His features were still set in stone, as if he were unfazed by her ministrations, but those eyes were locked on her.

Aelin removed her hand from her sex, fingers still glistening and reached up to touch Rowan’s chest.

Faster than she could blink, his own hand had captured her wrist. Her fingers were inches from his skin.

“What is it?” Her voice was husky, yet dripping with innocence, as if she didn’t know what she was doing to him.

Rowan sounded like he was in pain. Only a few moments and she’d already worked him up. “You said no touching.” 

She clucked her tongue, leaning in so her chest pressed into his. It pinned their hands between them. “I said you couldn’t touch me.”

“Then you can’t touch me.”

And before she knew what was happening, Aelin found her self on one end of the couch, her back to the plush, rolled arm, while Rowan sat on the other end.

Much too far for her liking.

He didn’t move. His eyes never left her. They trailed after her fingers as she settled against the couch cushions, her legs stretching out, her toes nudging Rowan’s thigh. His breathing was shallow as his eyes locked on the hand that palmed her breast. 

His hands didn’t stay still, though. Instead, Rowan untied his linen pants before slipping them down his thighs, his hardened length springing free. Aelin’s bottom lip was pulled between her teeth to keep from moaning at the sight of him, completely ready for her. She throbbed between her thighs and every thought from her mind vanished as Rowan fisted his cock and stroked. 

Aelin could practically feel him thrusting into her as the image flooded her mind. This time, she let a moan free as she began circling the throbbing ache of her clit that was begging for relief. 

Rowan’s rhythm matched hers, and for a moment, nothing could be heard in the room except for their heavy, disoriented breaths.

“Your books don’t seem to be of much use now,” he teased her, not bothering to look at the object behind her she claimed gave her so much pleasure.

Smirking, Aelin spread her legs wider, baring herself further to him. There wasn’t an inch of her body he hadn’t seen, hadn’t tasted, and she could see the raw hunger in his eyes. “They’re only necessary when I lack the imagination needed to—”

Her words fell off with a soft moan as she circled her clit, watching as Rowan worked himself. The muscles of his abdomen were straining and his hips would buck off the cushions every so often. Her mouth watered as he teased his cock, stroking the head slowly as beads of wetness appeared. Aelin wanted to lick him clean, to taste the unadulterated essence of her Mate after such a long time apart, but this game between them was first and foremost in her mind. What had started as a way to tease him had backfired in the most glorious way, and as Aelin watched her husband pump his cock in time to the plunge of her fingers into her core, she knew there was no way she would break first.

She breathed his name as that familiar sensation built in her core and Rowan’s jaw locked as he watched her body writhe beneath the power of her own fingers. Suddenly, Rowan’s hand worked himself faster, and a curse of his own left his mouth while Aelin cursed.

“Is this what you do in my absence?” Rowan hissed, his tone half teasing, half undone. His shoulders tensed as his wife cursed again, a string of profanity falling from her lips.

“Jealous?” she asked, but the word was nothing more than a whisper. She could hardly get it out as her hips rolled into her hands.

“How can I be jealous?” Rowan asked, his tone only pushing her further towards her release. “I know what’s going on inside that pretty little mind of yours.” 

Aelin’s fingers slowed to a tantalizing speed. “And what is it that I’m thinking?”

Rowan grinned, and the sight had a whimper sounding from Aelin’s closed lips.  “You’re thinking how good it’s going to feel when I finally bury myself deep inside of you.”

Aelin scoffed, although it was clear that it was nothing more than an act. “I thought I made it clear…I get by perfectly well in your absence. All by myself.”

Rowan’s hand slowed, until his hand wrapped around his cock but it did not move. “Your soul is mine. You are never alone.”

There was certainly some romantic notion in that statement, but it was mostly an animalistic declaration. No, as her Mate, their souls were connected. There was never a second that Aelin pleasured herself that she was not thinking about Rowan, even when he was thousands of miles away.

That thought alone had Aelin breathing, “Touch me.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth that Rowan grabbed her across the couch, dragging her body over his, and crashed his lips against hers. One of his hands was in her hair, the other on her ass and Aelin adjusted herself until she felt him pressing against her center, thick and hard and ready.

Gods, she needed him and she didn’t want to pretend she didn’t, no matter what game they were playing. He was not weaker for needing her, not as he’d once believed, and she wasn’t either. As he ravaged her with his kiss, Aelin rose up on her knees, lining him up with her entrance and sank down in one stroke that had both of them gasping.

Rowan’s mouth found her neck as she rode him, kisses alternating from long, languid sweeps of his tongue that made her squirm, to biting nips of the sweetest pain that had her quivering around him. His lips continued down her neck and shoulders, over her chest, until he took her nipple into his mouth, sucking gently.

Throwing her head back, Aelin moaned, writhing atop him, threading her fingers through his hair.

Rowan’s fingers kneaded her ass as he sucked and praised. He thrusted up as she rocked and bounced, and they did not even try to hide the noises that were shamelessly filling the space between them, around them. Aelin hoped the entire castle could hear, hoped that they all knew her Mate was home and her soul was complete yet again. 

Rowan’s lips found hers, hungrily, his tongue diving into her open mouth. Their bodies were pressed up firmly against one another’s but it still wasn’t close enough. It would never be close enough. Aelin would always long to be closer, even if they were as close as two people could be. She whispered his name and came crashing down upon him yet again, drawing a deep moan from the back of Rowan’s throat. His head fell back and he cursed before throwing her back against the couch and claiming her with a primal relentlessness that had Aelin seeing stars.

She loved him like this.

Completely unhinged.

Lost in all she had to offer, unable to control his needs and desires. 

All of it, only for her. 

The room filled with Aelin’s gasps and screams and cries of his name as Rowan fell into her again and again, urgently and meticulously. With one hand gripping her thigh, the other fell in that little space between them and his thumb rolled her clit until she was falling into oblivion, drowning in her sweet release. Her knees shook and her chest heaved as she swore, her nails digging into his skin. 

Rowan’s eyes were bright as she clenched and spilled out around him. 

It was only a few more frantic thrusts before he was following her over the edge, groaning her name as he came.

His head fell into the crook of her neck, both of them breathing heavily as they came back down. Aelin was the first to move, dragging her nails up and down his back in slow, languid strokes.

A quiet groan rumbled in his chest and she laughed softly as her fingers found her way into his hair.

“Your hair will need a trim before we hold any official court business,” she mused with a smirk as he worked to settle his breathing.

“Your court can take me as I am.” His response was muffled by her skin, but she could hear the exhaustion in his words.

She hummed as she finger combed through the tangles. “I guess you're right. I am queen, after all. What I say goes.”

Rowan snorted, knowing she’d never use her power for something so vain, but didn’t reply.

“We should clean up,” she said, glancing down. His body still completely covered hers, right down to where he was still buried inside her, their mixed releases making a mess on the couch.

“We can clean up tomorrow.” He still hadn’t raised his head, his warm breath on her skin. “Sleep now.”

“We have a bedchamber for that, you know,” she teased and he finally pulled back to look at her.

She had only seen her mate look so exhausted a few times, so completely and utterly drained that she knew the moment his head hit the pillow, he’d be asleep, so she leaned up, pressing her lips to his. “I missed you.”

“I missed you,” he echoed, wrapping his arms around her tighter. “Every day and every night.”

Without warning, he stood, carrying her into the washroom, making quick work of cleaning them both off before heading for their bed.

Aelin clung to him, refusing to let go even for a second. She had to soak up every minute before he was called away again to fulfill yet another duty in honor of the beautiful country that they had brought back from the ashes. 

They never redressed before snuggling closely together beneath the heap of blankets on their bed, dwelling in the heat and comfort of one another’s bare body. 

They remained in that bed together all night, intertwined and connected, and stayed there until the following night came.

[elementalwriter67]

And another thing!!!!

I want Cassian to step the. Fuck. Up! I want him to step the fuck up and be the mate that Nesta deserves. Don’t get me wrong I love Cassian, he’s my favorite, I just don’t really like him in ACOSF. Like first three books Cassian he’s great, he’s fantastic, can’t get enough of him. ACOSF Cassian though I like him but I need him to be better. Mainly I need him to grow a mother fucking back bone and defend his damn mate when someone *cough* Rhys *cough cough* talks shit about her or talks down to her. Because that was the other thing that pissed me off about ACOSF is that Cassian never once defended her against the IC. He never once stood up for her and said “hey! No she’s not like that.” He just stood there and let that shit go on. He didn’t even say anything to Rhys when Rhys ordered him to get Nesta out of Velaris before he killed her. Like. Cassian that is your mate’s life that he just threatened! I get that he’s your high lord and best friend but still! He just threatened your mates life and regardless of what you think of her actions you should’ve said something to him. Hell I would have taken a glare, or an ill suppressed sneer at Rhys before leaving. But NO instead we get an agreement and then we get Cassian taking a now heavily suicidal Nesta away to go hiking in the DAMN mountains for a week!! Where he gives her the fucking SILENT TREATMENT!!!! Who does that?!?! Who the fuck does that?!?!?!

Who the fuck takes one look at Nesta that whole week they’re in the mountains and thinks that she deserves the silent treatment and this punishment for what she did?!?!? Cassian apparently!! Because Cassian has the social ineptitude of a fucking rock apparently. The man can plan a battle and read his enemies well enough to anticipate their fucking movement but asking him to read a “room” and a person’s nonverbal cues to how they’re feeling is just too much apparently. You’d have better luck asking the man to cut off his own damn wings than you would at having him read a room.

Also, also. Cassian is Nesta’s mate. Shouldn’t he have gone full on alphahole when someone threatens his mate or treats her like shit? Isn’t that what mates or fae males supposed to do? Rhys does it. Tamlin did it and he wasn’t even Feyre’s mate. Hunt does it! Rowan does it. Hell even fucking Lorcan did it for Eldie and that was when he was still blood oathed to fucking Maeve! But Cassian can’t do it for Nesta? Why? Because Rhys is his high lord? So what, he’s also his bestfriend which means if he’s being an asshole to your MATE of all fucking people then you get to call. His. Ass. Out. On. It! You are his bestfriend. You knew that motherfucker before he was a high lord, you knew that motherfucker before he even knew how to throw a punch properly, his mother basically adopted you that’s how close you are. Use that shit to your advantage! Because guess what? You can still call him out on it while respecting his power and authority if you’re so scared of that. But no!! Instead we roll over and say “yes sir.” It fucking pisses me off.

And don’t get me wrong I can fully recognize that Nesta telling Feyre that she’s going to die while giving birth to her son in a fit of rage and clearly wanting to hurt her sister was not the way to do it. There was a better way, better time, and a better place to tell her something like that. But ya know what? At least someone fucking told her! No one else was gonna tell her and why? Because Rhys was afraid it would scare her or some shit like that? Fuck off with that. Rhys made a promise to Feyre in book fucking two that he wouldn’t keep anymore secrets from her or keep her out of the loop anymore and then turns around and does this shit to her. Hides important, quite literally life altering information from his mate who he promised he wouldn’t hide things from her anymore. Nesta telling Feyre in a fit of rage was just the Mother’s way of getting back at Rhys for going back on a promise. So Rhys and Cassian can both go suck it for how they responded to this. And I hope in the next book we get Cassian finally stepping up and standing up for his mate or so help me I will reach across time and space to slap that man so hard it sends him clear across Prythian.

I have never wanted a character to just pop off and verbally tear apart other characters like I do Nesta and Eris. I just…. I just want them to loose their shit in the most rage filled and satisfying way there is. I want Nesta to just go off on Rhys, on Mor, on Elain, on Feyre, on Amren, and even fucking Cassian. And you know what? I want someone else to go off on the IC on Nesta’s behalf. Because I am still PISSED, like deep within my soul pissed, at Amren basically telling Nesta to go kill herself when she was at her lowest and was desperately reaching out to someone in the only way she could because she couldn’t allow herself to be truly vulnerable with someone. And I am still pissed and unsatisfied that Nesta, NESTA, was the one to apologize to Amren. To get on her KNEES and apologize to that shrimp sized, holier than thou bitch. And I’m not gonna lie I really hope the next book involves the IC getting the fucking slap across the face they deserve for the way they treated her.

[throneofsapphics]

Manorian or rowaelin whichever couple you want x reader

Reader ghosts everyone because she’s depressed and doesn’t know how to communicate with her loved ones about it 🫠

a despair so dark light will not reach

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: Rowan and Aelin notice you slipping away from them, and struggle to figuring out how to bring you back

Warnings: depression, negative self talk

Word Count: 1306

A/N: thank you for the request!

“I’m fine,” you insisted, turning back to your book. It was interesting, it was different, it wasn’t this, it wasn’t reality. In between these pages, you could escape to another universe where your problems and realities didn’t exist. 

Aelin sighed, she’d been attempting to get you to talk about what ‘was happening.’ There was nothing. It was nothing. You are nothing, a voice, eerily like your own, said in the back of your mind. 

That’s the truth of the matter, wasn’t it? You didn’t matter. Nothing fucking did. How would you explain that to the two people who love you more than anything else in the world? How the weight on your chest felt so heavy you couldn’t breathe but at the same time you existed in a state of nothingness where not even the brightest light could reach? You’d battled it since childhood, and although you hadn’t lost yet, there was still so much you missed every day. It doesn’t matter, you reminded yourself, I don’t care. 

“Please,” Aelin caught your attention with a gentle hand on your knee. Eyes blinking back into focus, she was ... Aelin was pleading on her knees with you, her hands squeezing each of your knees. “Tell me where you go when you do that. Let me in.” 

When you do what? Space out, you supposed. Pressing your lips tightly together, you debated. The hope in Aelin’s eyes at your pause broke part of you. You couldn’t do it to someone you loved, couldn’t let them in and get a taste of that all consuming despair that threatened to invade and poison all of your surroundings. Just on your own, you felt like the last block of a crumbling barricade against the rushing tide. Eventually, it would overflow but for now you’d do your best to hold it back. 

“Let us in,” Rowan knelt behind her, his own arm reaching over to brush against your shoulder. “Please,” he repeated her word. 

You turned your head away, “I said it’s nothing,” the phrasing had a tad more bite than you intended. They didn’t deserve to be saddled with your inconsequential issues, no matter how much they asked for it. You could handle it on your own, you’d been handling it for years. 

Are you really, thought? The voice said. 

“Then come to breakfast with us. I’ll make sure your favorites are there,” Aelin tried, her voice shaking slightly. You thought you heard her tears. You didn’t look. Couldn’t look. 

“Alright,” you whispered, a soft agreement, knowing you had to give them something or they wouldn’t leave you to your own devices. 

“Alright,” Aelin breathed as if it was a sacred vow, and you hated the relief in her voice. 

It started with the small things. It always did. One missed dinner, nobody remarked on it. Two missed dinners, nobody batted an eye. Three, inquiries about your absence. Four, someone went to look for you. 

Aelin found you sleeping, decided not to disturb you, and made excuses for your absence, that you were ill, not feeling well, overworked. 

It went on like this for months, them making excuses for why you never showed up to meals anymore. 

You never needed an excuse for work, no you were high functioning, and always took care to show up to any mandatory obligations that could have negative professional consequences. 

You thought you had it under control. Really, you were spiraling so far down into a dark place it would take the hottest sun to drag you out of it.

The next morning, you couldn’t get off the couch. They didn’t ‘wake’ you - you were a master at faking sleep - when they snuck past to go to training, maybe they should have. That invisible weight pushed you back two inches for each inch you moved forward, and eventually you gave up. When they came to get you, you feigned sleep. 

It was impossible to hide your insomnia from them, and you knew they wouldn’t interrupt what precious sleep you could get. Often they’d wake to find you asleep in strange places throughout the room, despite starting out in the bed with them. 

That afternoon, Rowan brought a healer. 

“Just figure out what’s wrong,” he said.

‘Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.’ the word echoed like a horrible melody in your mind. 

The healer took your vitals, asked how often you ate, exercised, went outside, how your mood was, if you felt depressed, and a thousand other questions you answered in a monotone voice. 

Maybe you should’ve been honest, but you didn’t want to worry anyone unnecessarily and with Rowan hovering in the corner, you felt you couldn’t really tell them. 

“Your Highness, could you please step out of the room?” The healer asked pleasantly, patting you on the knee. She was older, you could tell even with the Fae’s gift of eternal youth. Slight lines showed in her forehead and around the corners of her eyes. Signs of a happy life. 

Rowan, begrudgingly, left after you mouthed it was fine. 

“Now dearie,” for some reason her voice was soothing rather than irritating, usually you didn’t like names like that, “you can answer my questions honestly. Anything you say won’t go back to them, it’ll stay right between us and we’ll figure it out together.” 

You looked at her, really looked at her and studied her expression. Unwavering. She didn’t flinch at your unabashed stare, didn’t turn away, didn’t so much as twitch. Like she’d been doing this and dealing with these types of situations for centuries. It gave you some hope. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

“Here’s a start, perhaps there’s nothing wrong with you, just different,” her eyes lightened slightly. Perhaps she felt the weight of an order from her King. Or she genuinely wanted to help you. You didn’t know which thought was you and which was the darkness living inside of you. 

The conversation felt like a steady push and pull, a battle of wills between you and the healer. At the end, the two of you came up with a plan. One small change. Get outside at least once a day, no matter the time of day or if it was just strolling onto your balcony. 

The healer, Elka, was trained as a mind healer too. You felt slightly tricked when she revealed that at the end. 

The people who loved you most thought you were insane. But you supposed the normal healers hadn’t turned up anything and you couldn’t blame them for trying, it was something you would do after all. 

Despite your high hopes after the first session, progress was slow and you felt yourself almost worsening. 

You learned how to portray to the world that you felt alright, but in private ...

The last thing you wanted was to wake them, especially when they had busy and important things to do in the morning. In other words, the last thing you wanted was to burden them. You made your way to the old rooms you used back when you first moved into the castle, and shook the dust off one of the pillows. 

Sliding under the soft slightly stagnant comforter, you curled on your side and hugged your knees to your chest. 

For the first time in months, the true weight of your self-imposed isolation crashed down on you and you tasted the salt of a tear hitting your upper lip. 

You were woken before six in the morning to a slightly angry Fae storming into your room. 

“This is where I draw the line,” he pulled back the comforter and shifted you into his arms, bridal style. “You can sleep in our fucking bathtub if you can fall asleep there,” he pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your forehead, “but I’ll be damned if you sleep in another room again.” 

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throne of glass taglist: @i-am-a-lost-girl16

[mariaofdoranelle]

URDAD - part 2

Concentration gradient: going down on you

Fic masterlist

Long story short, I lost track of my writing schedule because I’m on a break with none of the routine my neurodivergent brain needs to function. I’m figuring it out. I’ll post LAUN as soon as I can. Here’s some ✨apology smut✨ hehe have fun

Warnings: language, NSFW

Words: 2k

Dr. Whitethorn looked as if he'd seen a ghost.

His eyes lingered on her body for a second before they snapped back to her face. “Is everything alright?”

Aelin strolled his way without fixing her half-open robe, and moved a book so she could sit on his desk. Dr. Whitethorn didn’t restrain his gaze when she crossed her legs.

“I think I have a fever.” Aelin tilted her head, looking him in the eye. “I’m burning up, Doctor, and there’s also this ache. It’s torture.”

“Oh.” He tore his eyes off her and slightly shook his head, as if shaking something off his mind. “I’m sure I have a thermometer somewhere.”

While Dr. Whitethorn looked for his thermometer with his back to her, Aelin took her robe off.

“Got it!” He turned around with the device in his hand, but his expression changed. Dr. Whitethorn’s eyes were blown wide, lips slowly parting as he took her new state in. “Where’s your robe?”

Aelin tilted her head, exposing her neck while feigning confusion. “I thought you were going to examine me.”

“I-“ Rowan’s mouth opened and closed before something clicked and his eyes got full of determination. “We don’t need a thermometer, do we?” He closed the few steps between them, setting the thermometer down. Instead, he put one hand on the desk, next to where Aelin was sitting, and the other against her forehead. “Very feverish indeed.” The back of his hand ignited her as it softly slid against her cheek and neck. “Look, you’re shivering.”

Aelin nodded, lips parted. “I might even need continuous care.”

"I'd advise you to stay out of trouble and rest.” The hand he kept on the desk slipped to her thigh, tracing idle circles as it went up. “But I don’t think you’d follow my orders.”

“You’re wrong about that.” Aelin leaned away a little to look him in the eye, thrusting her chest out in the way and feigning innocence with her eyes. “I’ll follow every order you give me, Doctor.”

A shattered breath left his lungs, and he closed his eyes before continuing, “If you want me to take care of you…” Dr. Whitethorn sneaked his way towards her throat, applying enough pressure to send a jolt of electricity down Aelin’s spine. “You have to say my name.”

“Dr. Whi—“

He squeezed her throat harder, making a trail of goosebumps erupt on her skin. “Say my name, Aelin.”

“Rowan,” she rasped, slightly rocking her hips against his desk, desperate for any sort of friction.

His lips were almost brushing against the shell of her ear when he whispered, “Good girl.”

Aelin turned her face to him, but he still gripped her chin to meet her lips halfway. Rowan’s kiss was ravenous, he took over her mouth and turned Aelin’s blood into wildfire with every possessive swirl of his tongue.

She slid to the end of the desk, trying to meet his hips, and the movement gave him leverage to work on her neck. His rough kisses on her pulse point made her breath hitch, but Aelin wasn’t expecting it when Rowan yanked the thin strap of her nightgown, exposing one breast just to cover it with his hand.

“You’re so fucking pretty.” His voice was hoarse as he slid his fingers under her lacy panties. “But you know that already, don’t you?” He toyed with her entrance for a moment before plunging one finger in, curling it right at the spot that made her see stars. “You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t know how gorgeous you are.”

Aelin whimpered, grinding against his now two fingers before she replied, “I like hearing it better when it comes from your mouth.”

He let his free hand tease her nipple and wander around her breast, collarbone, neck, before holding her chin and tilting towards him.

“Turn around,” he commanded while removing his fingers from inside her.

Aelin frowned at the change, but complied.

“Bend.”

She leaned over his desk, not missing how her short nightgown rode up as she did, and now her ass was sticking out, unprotected from the AC’s cold air and—

Rowan smacked her ass, and it lingered in a way that made her ache and press her thighs together with need.

He leaned over her, yanked her hair so it wasn’t covering her ear, and whispered, “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

Rubbing the redness off, he pecked her shoulder from behind, and gave her a moment to recover. However, that lingering burn only intensified when Rowan spanked her again.

One.

Two.

Three times.

"And this is for toying with me to get revenge."

Aelin‘s mind was too fuzzy to process his words now. She was trembling, whimpering on his desk when Rowan mentioned for her to turn around. He kneeled when she did, and the sight of him guiding her leg so it could rest on his broad shoulder made her insides flush.

Rowan didn’t spare a second before greeting her pussy with his tongue, looking her in the eye as he tasted her folds and massaged her clit. She was a whimpering mess, holding herself upright with one hand, her nerves on fire. The sight of Dr. Whitethorn worshiping her on his knees was enough to make her brain short-circuit.

He leaned away for a moment, lips parted and chin glistening with her wetness as he slowly pushed two fingers in. Trying to watch her gasp and his fingers filling her in at the same time, Rowan didn’t know where to look. He was taking her dismantled state in when Aelin grabbed his hair and led his mouth back to her.

It was too much. With his tongue on her clit while he fucked her with his fingers, Aelin felt like she was shattering from the inside out, ready to burst. Rowan toyed with her as she fell to pieces on his mouth, but she couldn’t last much longer.

Aelin cried out, knees buckling as shockwaves rippled through her body. He drew it out, not stopping until she went limp and muttering that she was being such a good girl and taking his fingers so well.

Rowan got up and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. She couldn’t understand what the look in his eyes meant, so Aelin pulled him in for another kiss.

This one was long and sweet, with Rowan rolling his tongue over hers like he had nowhere to go. He held her face with both hands and such care as if she was something precious, gently caressing her with his thumb. Aelin tugged on his waist, closing whatever little distance still was between them.

Instead of heating things up like she silently ordered, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling, and they just stayed there, silent. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but Aelin wasn’t able to think a lot herself.

She ran her hands over his chest, through his cotton shirt. How can a fully-clothed person give her a mind-blowing orgasm like this?

˜˜

Dr. Whitethorn was avoiding her.

Aelin had her suspicions when he didn’t do anything after giving her head, then didn’t show up for breakfast this morning before going to work. However, it was only confirmed when Dr. Towers commented how weird it was that he asked her intern to pick up the patient’s results at the lab.

Which meant he forgot how to send the images and his report in the new software, and printed them out instead of asking Aelin for help.

She was striding down the hospital halls, her heartbeat strong as she calculated what to say.

Rowan’s spine went rigid when she stormed in unannounced, but he still gave her a close-lipped smile.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I guess I should grow a sixth sense to know when you need help with Anne Jausten, since you’re avoiding me now.”

His face fell. “I’m not avoiding you, I’m…” he trailed, feeling the weight of her suspicious gaze. “…buying some time before we talk.”

Aelin sat on the chair beside his and crossed her arms. “Talk about what? How you fingered me into oblivion and ghosted?”

He had the gall to flush on the cheeks. “I didn’t mean to ghost you, I was just trying to sort things out by myself first because I need to be straightforward with you.” He sighed, his eyes looked pained when he said, “Last night shouldn’t have happened.”

What.

Aelin blinked, thoughts frozen as her chest tightened.

He continued, “You were hurt. Still is, probably. Angry, too. I should’ve been the one to stop, so we can just blame this on me and pretend it didn’t happen.”

“What are you talking about?” Aelin’s mouth hung open for a second, not quite understanding his train of thought. Rowan had an unannounced woman throwing herself at him in a flimsy nightgown and gave her earth-shattering oral without having a single orgasm in return. How in hell did he turn himself into the bad guy? She replied in a matter-of-fact tone, “I’m an adult too, Rowan, and I wouldn’t show up at your office half-naked if I wanted you to stop.”

He swallowed, his gaze a little too intense before he averted it. He pulled in a breath and slowly released it, his shoulders looking heavier each second. Rowan replied in a quieter voice, “Look, Aelin, I can’t be a pawn you use to get back at my daughter. I’m not saying Imogen’s right, you have every right to be mad at her, I’m just saying I have my own feelings to protect before engaging in whatever you two have going on. Hers, too.”

Oh. His words tied off whatever thread was tightening her chest, and now she felt it expand again, full of warmth. So that’s why he was acting weird. Rowan thought the only reason she sought him was to get back at Imogen.

Well, that was kind of true. Not completely, though.

“That’s one way to see it.” She tilted her head and ignored the way her pulse got faster. Laying all her feelings and intentions like this wasn’t what Aelin was used to doing with the guys her age, but it was better this way. “The way I see it, is that there’s this thing I’ve always wanted to do, but never did out of loyalty. But now the only tie holding me back is broken, so…” she trailed when something seemed to click inside his head, making his eyes widen.

“Are you telling me you were interested in me before it was convenient for you?”

Aelin nodded in response, trying to look earnest and not laugh at his confused face. The poor thing, so clueless of the effect he had on her.

“Huh.” Rowan frowned at Mora, the microscope, as he analyzed this new piece of information. “I hadn’t considered that.”

Unable to restrain herself, Aelin beamed. “Well, you should.”

He slowly nodded, still quiet. It was cute to watch him like that, all flustered and not quite processing that a girl actually liked him.

Now that he knew it, she decided to give him space to mull this over.

“There’s this broken monitor in the ER. I should go before Chief Salvaterre throws a hissy fit.”

“Sure.” Rowan aimed her a small smile. “See you at dinner?”

Aelin grinned, walking backwards to the door. “Or when you need help with Ms. Jausten.”

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TAG LIST

I couldn’t tag the people in bold, sorry!

@aelinchocolatelover

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@wishfulimaginings

[heartcereql]

am i the girl that you dream of?

✩ xavier thorpe x f!reader

SYNOPSIS- all over the summer, xavier has been having dreams of a certain girl, who, much to his surprise, arrives at nevermore for the new school year. 

CW- lowercase intended, cursing, bianca and xavier don’t have any history, also divina may be a bit ooc since we didn’t get much of her. 

A/N- i know it doesn’t really follow pretty when i cry (the song i got the prompt from) but i loved how it turned out. sorry in advance, it’s pretty long LMAO. also feel free to send request for wednesday characters! :)

moonlight bathed her features. her eyes glistened, reflecting the stars. hands delicately mused, fingers interwinned, softly caressing the other hand. her chest rose up and down, inhaling midnight air, fueling her lungs with the pure atmosphere that surrounded her figure. 

dreams always felt surreal. but when she was in them? they went beyond that. xavier stretched his hand towards her. slowly, his fingertips grazed her shoulder. and then he saw. 

his vision suddenly flooded with flashing memories. dazzling blue lights, very muffled chattering, hands, lips, figures, were all his senses were taking in.

4:39 AM

xavier woke up covered in sweat once again. the sun wasn’t up yet. dim light from the stars came through his window. 

he hadn’t been thrilled about going home for summer holidays. he thought he’d be staying at ajax’s or be sent to a summer camp. he would’ve liked that. but his father had kept him home. all. fucking. summer. and then the dreams started to appear. the first one, he doesn’t even remember. he just brushed it off. but then they continued appearing. and he found himself enhanced. for almost two months, he’d drawn the girl from his dreams. wether it were only sketches of herwaist, or doodles of herparted lips. he even had an unfinished painting of her moonlit face in a big canvas. anybody who had seen his latest pieces would’ve thought he was a stalker. he was just trapped in his house. it only conforted him  how close the beginning of the new school year was. 

back at nevermore, xavier felt at ease again. getting back on track carried an euphoric feeling for him. settling everything in his dorm, catching up with ajax and rowan, cleaning his art shed, it all gave him a sense of belonging that he wouldn’t change for anything. the dreams even went away.

and, in one of his conversations, he found out. about your arrival. though, at first, he paid no mind to it. ajax had said something about two transfer students incorporating this year.

“yeah, one of them will be here in a couple days. i heard the other’s application is still pending or something like that” rowan added. 

“damn, does everyone know but me?” he said. he meant it as a joke, but, deep down, he was worried he’d been living under a rock the whole summer.

“it’s not that big of a deal” ajax shrugged “but most likely.”

xavier groaned and mentally face-palmed himself. he could’ve checked enid’s blog. idiot. 

✩✩✩✩

meanwhile you were talking to principal larissa weems alongside your parents. the woman before you had an elegant and intimidating beauty and her words came out graceful and confident. 

she’d explained how the school worked, what the classes consisted in and the insitute’s norms. your parents were delighted with weems, relieved she would be in charge of your security and safety. she seemed trustworthy. she inspired comfort, but also discipline and respect. 

“now, now, y/n, it is time for you to meet your roommate and she will give you a tour around school. i’ll leave you sometime with your family to say your goodbyes” weems spoke with a warm smile. 

your parents nodded and thanked her as she escorted you out of her office. 

✩✩✩✩

as you were seeing your parents’ car drive away, a presence approached you. you turned around to meet a girl with chestnut, shoulder lenght hair and pale blue eyes. 

“hey! you must be y/n. i’m divina, your roommate” she gave you an enchanting smile as she offered her hand.

“charmed to meet you” you smiled back as you shook her hands.

“i think your belongings have already been moved into our dorm, so let’s take a look at the school first, shall we?” she asked, linking your arm with hers as you nodded, delighted. 

✩✩✩✩

xavier was working on his latest project very near the quad. it had been half his and half weems’s idea. a mural adorning one of the walls adjacent to the quad. his mind ran free as he painted some details in a crow. 

as he changed some of his used brushes for clean ones, his eyes scanned the quad. some girls chatting in a bench nearby, a group of gorgons in the back of the quad, and then his eyes made their way towards two moving figures. 

was that divina? she indeed was. and she was talking to a girl, who was looking for something in her bag. she was not wearing the uniform. she must have been one of the transfers. xavier stopped whatever he was doing to take a proper look at the pair. 

as the new girl found what she was looking for, her face now exposed, xavier realised. it was you. the girl he’d been dreaming of all summer. too shocked to react, he could only watch you walk away towards thelxiepeia hall. 

✩✩✩✩

september passed by faster than everyone had wanted. 

you and divina had become quite close and she’d introduced you to bianca, yoko, enid and kent. you’d even thrown a slumber party at your shared dorm; the girls helped you settle in and decorate your side.

xavier, on the other hand, had been thinking of how to approach you, if he even should. he hadn’t wanted to be affected by it, not wanting to start the neverending cycle this past summer had been, filled with incognitas about you. but the dreams came back. and they were different. you actually spoke to him in this new dreams. nothing that he could comprehend though. sometimes you spoke in unsolveable riddles, sometimes in a language he couldn’t understand. 

“it is time for you to make the very first project of this semester” professor Cross, horror literature’s teacher anounced, earning a groan from all the students. “it could’ve been an exam, no need to be so dramatic. the couples assigned and the book assigned for each are displayed on the classroom door. have nice evenings!” and with that, he vanished from the class. 

you and bianca made your way towards the door. she was the only one from your friend group who had horror literature in this period. 

“i’m up here and you, oh here!” she pointed at your names.

she got paired with a girl named iris. your name was written nexto to ‘xavier thorpe’. 

“it’s perfect that i got Lovecraft. i mean, i’ve loved him since i was merely in the womb. i spent all summer reading-” bianca was rambling about lovecraft before you interrupted her.

“hey, b, who is xavier thorpe?” you asked her, fidgeting with a sticky note in which you’d written his name along with ‘The Tell-Tale Heart’. 

“you know that kid who’s painting a mural in the quad? that’s him. i think he’s super good at literature , so you’re gonna ace this” she responded, walking you to the quad.

as you and her were about to start a conversation as to which outfit you should choose for your girls’ evening out, someone catched up to you. 

“hey, you’re y/n, right?” a tall boy, with sharp features and long hair, asked, locking eyes with you.

you felt a sensation of déjà vu run through you as you could only nod, enhanced by his figure. 

“i’m xavier” the boy smiled. “we are partners for this project, so, um, maybe you want to schedule for some days to work on it?”

“sure, sure” you reciprocated the smile, taking in the way his made you feel. “i’ll catch you later, bi” you said to your friend as she nodded and walked away. 

“so, uh, when are you free?” he asked as you turned back to him. “for the project, i mean”

“i think i have this afternoon free, and next one as well, if it works for you” you spoke.

you sounded exactly like what he’d dreamt. your silk soft voice reverberating in his ears, sending goosebumps down his body.

“sounds perfect. library, 4pm?” xavier said, observing your features in the sun, rather than the moonlight, admiring you. not a product of his imagination. just you. 

✩✩✩✩

xavier got to the library at the very time he’d told you. scanning the place, he finally found your figure. your bag was placed in a chair, and you were browsing through the shelves, looking for some books. 

“hey” he greeted. 

words caught up in your throat when you looked at him. he loved the way your eyes fluttered around, finally settling down on his.

“hi” you responded. “so. i’ve been collecting a few books about poe, you know, so we can make a deep analysis on the piece”

“cool, cool. i feel like the old man has a lot of connotations-” he started.

“wait you’ve read the tell-tale heart?” you asked, smiling. you loved poe’s works.

“yeah, everyone should” he chuckled. “i find poe inspiring. all of his horror pieces itch all the right places in my brain” he shrugged, licking his lips.

“i love poe too. i went to a summer camp this summer about him and it wa...” 

xavier let your words run through his mind as he focused on your excited expression, talking about something you were so keen on.

both of you sat now next to each other, rambling about nonsense, enjoying the other’s company, your assignment long forgotten. 

✩✩✩✩

and so the two of you had to meet again the next day and over the weekend, rushing your assignment.

but neither of you minded it. you grew closer, learning about each other. xavier found out about your passion for astronomy and your connection to the night. and you learnt about his relationship with his dad and his coping mechanism: painting. you’d even seen some of them, and you were captivated by them.

 he showed you his ability and he’d swear your reaction was his favorite thing ever. how your eyes widened in suprise, lips parted slightly, an amazed smile making its way.

and he told you about his visions. he trusted you enough. 

✩✩✩✩

“and, you know, sometimes i have dreams, but they’re real. the people, the creatures are real” he said, almost a whisper. 

you two were walking around the school’s surroundings, october’s cold breeze hitting your rosy cheeks. 

“like visions?” you asked

“sort of. the scenarios are barely real, but the people i see are. and lately, this girl has been appearing”

“is she a sleep nymph? i heard of them once, they’re pretty cool” he could feel your eyes piercing him as he looked forward.

“no, no, i don’t think she is. at first i thought she was just something i imagined, but then i saw her” he looked down at you as he spoke. 

“what were your dreams like?” you softly posed the question.

“i saw her, laying down under the stars. i could only see her in a blue palette. and then, i saw her memories. and i just can’t get her out of my head” 

you went quiet. he feared he’d scared you, and he was about to start rambling apologies when you stopped walking and took his hand. 

“xavier?” you looked up at him “am i the girl that you dream of?”

his heart skipped a beat. he wanted the ground to swallow him. he couldn’t scape.

“how’d you know?”

“i’ve been seeing you too. in the stars.”

he stared at you blankly. so he hadn’t creeped you out. he finally reacted, smirking.

his hands made his way to your face, holding your cold cheeks. you looked up at him, hands around his neck. he wanted that moment, that sight to last forever.

he leaned down and kissed you for an instant. he pulled away, just to watch your features before you pulled him down and kissed him again, loving the feeling of his lips on yours, like they were made for each other. 

[colemonroe]

“Or it’s a chance to catch us all under one roof,” Cole countered, not because he wanted to bring down the mood, but because these were the things he had to think about. What was to stop an enemy from capitalizing on them all being sequestered together in one spot? “Ain’t tryna sound like an old paranoid fuck, but it’s somethin’ worth considerin’. We’ll have four guys posted outside at all times– two on the roof, others circlin’ the lot. In my mind, that ain’t overkill.” It was a necessary precaution and still, Cole couldn’t help but wonder if it was enough. They’d cross that bridge when they got there, though. If Eureka showed, it would mean even more people they could have patrolling outside. “I’ll give ‘em a call,” Cole nodded, figuring that while it likely wouldn’t take much convincing, they’d probably want to know about his plan for security too. “In the meantime, maybe ya can start puttin’ the numbers together? Maybe coordinate with Rowan? You know she’ll wanna help.” And she could rally the others into pitching in as well.

Beau was grateful to hear he and Cole were operating on the same wavelength. That day had rocked everyone, but he saw the way the grief still manifested in the MacNally children. Though Emiri seemed to be doing better, she wasn't quite the same as before either. "I think that'd be a good idea. That way there's no risk of anything happening with everyone in the same room," he reasoned aloud. He was sure he wasn't the only one thinking it, either. Nobody had expected the explosion at the bike festival, but now it meant being on guard whenever a large group of people got together. "You wanna reach out to Eureka to check with 'em or do you want me to? I'm sure it wouldn't take much convincing."