#c: lorcan

[mkmarlene]

where: the white wyvern who: @silenthauntings

Could anyone really blame her for pushing the limits, risking more than she had or should? Marlene had nothing to lose and nothing to prove, the world simultaneously pitied her and turned the blind eye. She played the perfect act, allowing no light into her darkest cornerns, but she did wonder how people failed to see through the cracks. She was coming undone for everyone to see, but they refused to have an actual look, perhaps scared of what they might find. The ongoing war was hard on them all, each and every single person she knew faced struggle upon struggle, all too busy trying not to lose the people around them or their sanity-- Marlene had already lost both.

A fact she'd already accepted, the witch felt thankful to have no eyes following her as she rushed through the doors of the White Wyvern, hoping for a distraction-- whatever the way. The brunette had taken her fair share of drinks before hitting the bar, though she carried herself as she was sober as a judge. Her eyes scanned the crowd until they settled on a familiar face, the right choice for a fun and uncomplicated night. "Hey." She greeted the wizard as she came to his side. "Can we share a drink, love?"

[lluiscarrasco]

where,  — The Standard, NYE closed  — @augustusx The list of people he wanted to avoid tonight was growing by the second. Ignoring his father was one thing, but trying to avoid eye contact with a particular someone Luis did not call several nights in a roll, was a whole different nightmare. At least his father knew how he felt about him, Luis liked to think it was mutually beneficial; avoiding each other, that was. This person, on the other hand, seemed eager to find him, and perhaps, get a good punch, or two. Swiftly moving between the caterers, he disappeared into the crowd of people; dark eyes falling on a familiar back, sitting down on a chair. He shouldn't have expected anything less; too serious to be on the dance floor, probably nursing a vodka soda for the last three hours, he assumed; the emobdiment of his personality. Luis found himself behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "What are you? 76 years old? Come on, get off your ass."

[ryder-is-on-the-case]

"I sure as fuck hope not."

On the sidelines...

"He wouldn't really do that...would he?" He asked, considering contemplating the idea of the warlock bringing down the entire place with his smoldering intensite. But that took effort.

[ace-of-garlic-breads]

hp next gen au info (in age order until after Louis)

James, Albus & Lily=Hinny kids

Victoire, Dominique & Louis = Bleur kids

Roxanne & Freddie = George x Angelina kids

Molly & Lucy = Perciver kids

Rose & Hugo = Romionie kids

Frank & Alice = Nannah kids

Lorcan & Lysander = Luna x Rolf kids

[hcpefuldreaming]

@allthatglxtters (Elide & Lorcan)

There was a strange irony in Elide making her way through the woods. Though the memories of the Ilken still haunted her from when she had been trying to find her queen, she also knew that it was where she had met Lorcan. Her heart aching at the mere thought of his name, she wandered through the area, internally hoping that if she had found Manon on the island, there might be more people from their world, preferably the grumpy fae that held her heart in the palm of his hands, and it seemed as though something answered her because when she saw the familiar face, she paused, a cry escaping her as she began to ran, ignoring the shot of pain in her ankle. "Lorcan!" Elide yells, finally reaching him and jumping into his arms as she buries her face in his neck. "You found me." She says with a hint of laughter in her words, honestly never having doubted the words he had once promised her as she pulls away just enough to look up at him with tears falling down her cheeks.

[luciusmalfoyx]

where: diagon alley who: @silenthauntings (lorcan d’eath)

Lucius did not care for being in Diagon Alley, but sometimes it was necessary. That is what brought him today, stepping out of a shop that he was doing business with, that he stopped in his steps and found himself jarring forward when a body collided into his back. The blonde quickly turns around to face a young creature, knowing about most that were not pureblood.

"You should watch where you are going," a coldness to his tone.

[wiinestories]

closed starter for @isles-of-man

Polly’s home was a sanctuary, meticulously arranged to suit her vampiric lifestyle. The dark curtains and lowered windowsills effectively blocked any stray sunlight, ensuring her sensitive eyes and skin were protected from its harsh rays. The dim lighting created a soothing, intimate environment, perfect for her nocturnal habits and allowing her to move freely without fear of accidental exposure.

The cozy ambiance wasn’t just a necessity; it was a preference, a way to create a space that felt welcoming and safe. Polly relished these quiet moments, where she could fully embrace her nature without the scrutiny or judgment of the outside world. Her home was a reflection of her dual existence—comfortable, elegant, yet steeped in the shadows that defined her life. As she moved through the dimly lit rooms, Polly found solace in the familiarity of her surroundings. The scent of incense wafted through the air, mingling with the faint aroma of aged leather and old books, creating a timeless feel that grounded her. This was her domain, a place where she could shed the persona she wore in public and be herself, fully and unreservedly.

In a world marked by centuries-old enmity between vampires and werewolves, Polly had defied the deep-seated rules of her kind. She had chosen a path fraught with danger and societal scorn by becoming a secret lover to a werewolf— Lorcan — a decision that could have dire consequences for both of them. The allure of the forbidden had drawn them together, sparking a passionate and risky affair that neither could resist despite the constant threat of discovery. Their relationship was a dance of contrasts and contradictions, filled with playful banter and sharp-tongued remarks about each other's species. Polly, with her wit and charm, often took delight in teasing her lover about the stereotypes and quirks of werewolves, knowing it irked him. This light-hearted antagonism was part of their dynamic, a way to acknowledge the reality of their situation without letting it overshadow the connection they had forged.

Feeling the weight of solitude pressing down on her as the evening deepened, Polly decided to call him. The desire to share her space, even briefly, with someone who understood her and could match her wit was irresistible. Despite the danger, the thrill of their secret meetings was something she craved—a rebellion against the rigid boundaries set by their respecptive communities.

Polly prepared for his arrival with a sense of both anticipation and mischief. She chose her attire carefully, slipping into elegant black lingerie that accentuated her figure, a stark contrast to the pale glow of her skin. To complete the ensemble, she draped herself in a silky red robe, the rich fabric adding a touch of luxury and intrigue. The robe, though providing some modesty, hinted at the allure beneath, creating a tantalizing invitation that was impossible to ignore. The boldness of her outfit was a silent message to him, a testament to the thrill she felt whenever they defied the rules together.

As Polly opened the door, she was greeted by the familiar sight of her secret lover, a werewolf who, despite their species' ancient rivalry, had captured her heart. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of mischief and hunger, her grin revealing the sharp fangs that marked her as a vampire. She couldn't help but tease him, a playful glint in her eye as she addressed him. "Good evening, doggie," she purred, her voice dripping with both affection and a hint of predatory excitement. Her hands rested confidently on her hips, the silk of her robe parting slightly to reveal the black lingerie beneath.

[pandoraxnott]

where: Cobb and Webb's shop who: Lorcan D'eath ( @silenthauntings ) when: 10th of january

Most days allowed for Pandora to sit behind the desk and study cursed dark magic items, but not today. She was busy doing inventory, parchment in hand and a quill, moving around the shop to check off what was there. It wasn't her favourite thing to do, but it had to be done.

Her attention was pulled in another direction when the door chimes went, and she glanced around a shelf to find a stranger standing there.

"Welcome to Cobb and Webb's, how can I help you?"

[sweetm3lody]

generation '26 — @homenum-revelio-rpg

@craz-insanity @wontyouletitlie @rose-weaxley @ourladyoftheunderworldrp @knight-of-cydonia-30

[edward-cabrini]

How To Write Characters With PTSD

This is your warning that potentially triggering topics will be discussed in this post.

First things first, this is a sensitive topic. Not all experiences of PTSD are the same, some people have very overt struggles others have something more internalized.

Writing characters with PTSD is pretty common. The struggle against personal trauma is very compelling after all. It can also be very cathartic for an author to write such characters. That's not to say characters should always succeed in overcoming their PTSD, not everyone does.

So how exactly does one write such a character? In this post we'll focus on 3 of my characters in my Dark Fantasy series. Lorcan, Maura, Ernin. As we do so I'll break down what their individual symptoms of their PTSD are. I don't think a simple how to guide could cover writing characters with PTSD. Simply googling what is PTSD and how does it present could get you those answers. Whether you agree or disagree with my representation of PTSD I hope you will agree that it is not the the totality of a character, merely one facet that can have a large impact upon them. There is no one size fits all guide for PTSD. It's a varied beast with many heads. Let your characters be vulnerable to it. Have them fight against it. Let them lose.

I will now cover each character and my depiction of their PTSD as it is presented in "The Curse of Want".

Ernin's Story Ernin plays the role of advisor and confidant to Lorcan. Some of that happens off page. What we see on page is someone who through no fault of their own had their family ripped away from them by people she was powerless to stop. Ultimately she had a good and happy childhood until her father was executed. As a fugitive she relied on her brute strength and skills to get by until she joins Fiachra's fian (warband). For an unspecified amount of time she serves in the vanguard of the fian at no point does she mention her traumatic event. Keeping silent on the topic until Lorcan joins the fian. Believing he might have had a similar experience as her. She joins him for training, tests and probes to confirm that he might understand. Only then does she reveal why she wanted to talk to him. This kind of avoidant behaviour is one of many PTSD symptoms. During a game of dice Ernin has more than a few angry outbursts and while that is also a symptom that is not part of her PTSD.

What is, is the gambling addiction. When I write scenes where she is playing dice she is always losing and always ready for another throw often explicitly stating that it's not luck that there is some skill to throwing dice. Ernin survived her ordeal though no small amount of luck. She was lucky to escape the church, she was lucky to run into Fiachra, she was lucky to have found a new home. She can't internalize that it both wasn't her fault and her escape was down to good luck. Otherwise it would mean she was entirely powerless as to her own fate. That feeling is not one easily rectified.

Maura's Story So what about Maura? Like Ernin she had a life outside of the war having grown up on a farm with her family as they they each steadily got drafted until there were too few of them to run the farm and money got tight. Maura exerts a lot of control over environment. She drills her men, she keeps the camp in order, she is Fiachra's right hand in the fian and was amongst his first recruits. What made her this way was her brother kidnapping her and then selling her to the highest bidder. Obviously all control was taken from her in violent fashion from someone she deeply trusted.

Throughout "The Curse of Want" we see her get increasingly irate with Lorcan as he disobeys orders and generally does what he wants without any care. This all stems from her phobia of losing control of any given situation. Unlike Ernin's self destructive nature, Muara's tendencies are a symptom of her PTSD. She actively puts herself in dangerous situations to try and keep some desperate grasp of control. Unfortunately for Maura she relives her experience when she finds a grooming gang. She could have called for guards, she could have called for help from the public, she could have done anything. However, the war she's fought through from childhood to adulthood has ended. Everyone is supposed to be safe. Her, Fiachra, and the fian made it so. As a result of her actions she does rescue the victims but she is now a mess, feelings of shame, guilt, terror, sickness. In an instant, Maura withdraws from everything and everyone believing she has ruined, not just her life, but the lives of her friends. Though she is entirely unharmed physically her mental state is not good, to put it mildly. What I want to point out here is that the breakdown wasn't borne of some spontaneous flashback. Maura has repeatedly exerted control and admonished Lorcan for his wanton murder and reckless behaviour; yet when confronted by her trauma head on she did exactly what he would have.

Lorcan's Story Last but not least we have Lorcan. Ernin and Maura have very internalized PTSD, it's most present in certain situations as they have had the time to try and adjust. Lorcan however is very much so. not in that same boat. He has is own personal post battle rituals to bring himself back to his baseline self. He is very action oriented and violent. He's distrustful and cynical. He makes no attempts to let anyone get close or to be closer to other people.

Lorcan has been through serval ordeals as a child. He grew up with his mother being regularly abused by his adoptive father then she was raped and murdered when illness took over. He himself was beaten by his father and raped by a member of his father's warband. After murdering his father and running away from the warband he roams the frontlines as a mercenary waiting for the next job that may or may not kill him. I don't feel great having to summarize it so succinctly but there is no gentle way to approach Lorcan's trauma. It's front and centre in a lot of his actions and needs stating clearly.

We've already discussed how PTSD can make you more reserved or reckless. There is however another side entirely that is worth considering. Maura faced her trauma in a very direct one to one situation. Lorcan however finds a lone child trying to survive winter by stealing from a wealthy family. It's his job to police the town with the rest of the fian that winter and though he doesn't want to, he must arrest the child. However, he then takes a series or risky actions in order to try and get some money to the boy in order to help. A great deal of Lorcan's trauma stems from his failure to protect his mother and the abuse his adoptive father put him through. Lorcan regularly displays a compulsion to rescue those in need and to murder those who seem to align with his abusers. PTSD doesn't make people good or bad, it just informs their decisions. Lorcan is very good at solving problems with his sword, it's all he's ever known. Unlike Maura and Ernin he was born directly into the war and had no life outside of it's confines.

[thcgoodwitch]

"Si sales en primera plana mañana, no será mi culpa" advirtió, desligándose de las acciones contrarias. "¿Cómo lidias con los rumores que salen sobre ti? El otro día leí la historia más ridícula. Aseguraban que tienes un fetiche con las piernas velludas. La fuente era una mujer anónima que decía haber tenido una 'noche de pasión' contigo y contó que habías restregado tu cara contra sus piernas, para decirle entonces que eran muy suaves" le había causado muchísima risa y al mismo tiempo no podía esperar a contárselo a Lorcan. "Claro que si es cierto, bueno, lo respeto, creo" fue suave la carcajada que se escuchó de su parte. Ante la acusación, arrugó el ceño y volteó a ver a su amigo, fingiendo juzgar: "No, porque si alguien pregunta diré que todo esto fue tu idea y yo sólo estoy aquí inocentemente como acompañante."

 ♡ ; Ollie Scamander ( @thcgoodwitch) send: 'You ought to be careful. People will think you’re…up to something.’

"¿cuidadoso con que?" finjio demencia ante las palabras de su amigo. "yo no estoy haciendo nada sospechoso, si ellos creen que esto es raro... no soy nadie para cambiar sus perspectivas" comento con una sonrisa divertida dibujandose en su rostro. "y no lo olvides, tu tambien estas aqui no solo pensaran eso de mi, de ti tambien" le guiño un ojo al muchacho el cual parecia preocupado por las acciones del antiguo slytherin.

[bookwonder]

In Exile

Chapter 10- Never Let Me Go

Lorcan prided himself in his self control. It was one of the traits that Maeve praised him for over the centuries. That and his ability kill, destroy and torture her enemies. Maeve may have never loved him, but she loved those things about him. The Queen never praised him for his ability to be soft, gentle, kind... not in the way Elide did. Never in his five miserable centuries of life had his resolve been tested in the manner in which it was at that precise moment.

Surely, he had miss heard her. He had to be dreaming, just as he had dreamed of his mother. Elide detested him, she made that more than clear over the course of the last few weeks. Refused to look, touch or be near him. But how could Lorcan refute those claims with her looking at him as such, as if she too loved him as he loved her. Because that is what it was, and he could no longer deny the truth etched into his very bones. He loved this woman. Has loved her from the moment she picked up his axe and brought death to that ilken monster. Her rage and beauty all encompassing, the consort to death itself.

Elide’s hand cupped his face, wonder written in her eyes, as if she too could not believe she were allowed to touch him. “Lorcan.” Her voice light.

Leaning into the touch, he thought of all the reasons he should not walk this path with her. Her forgiveness was still something he has not gained, perhaps once they rescued Aelin, Elide may consider it, but they still seemed far from that path. The truth of the bond clung between them. Elide unaware of it. Lorcan suspected she could feel that pull towards him, and too suspected that was the reason for their current predicament.

Her pulse at the base of her lovely neck cried out to him, like a beacon in the night sky. The primal parts of him itched to pierce the skin. Claim her as his. As his mate, and then lay claim to her mind, body and soul. Tethered together for the rest of eternity. Lorcan didn’t want to just fuck her, no, that was too crude to even think. Lorcan wanted to make love to her as he’s never done before. Lay her down and run his hands over her thighs, kiss her mouth, her neck, breasts, gods, he wanted to taste her more than anything he ever wanted in his immortal life. Would she be sweet, like the elderberry and cinnamon scent of her? He hoped so.

“Elide, we c—“

Closing the gap between them, Elide brought her plump lips to his. Lorcan swore he saw other galaxies, other worlds, when their lips touched. Light, such beautiful bright golden light, filled his veins, filled the darkest crevices of his spirit. His magic responded in kind, tendrils of the black magic swirled to engulf them both in gentle, happy touches. Lorcan’s magic never reacted to someone in the way it was doing now. It was reveling in this moment. Death itself felt alive as Elide’s lips danced over his own.

Lorcan hesitated for only a fraction of a second before the chain holding him back snapped, and he responded to her eagerly. The hand he had at her waist gripped on to her, while the other traveled to her cheek as it pulled her closer to him. Closer. He needed her closer.

Elide’s arms twined around his neck, pressing her hips against the hardness straining in his pants. A whimper echoed itself into the electric air between them. Lorcan almost gave into the primitive instincts shouting at him at the movement. It took the entirety of five-hundred years worth of self control not rip the nightgown off her body. Took all of his gods-damned control to reign himself in as Elide repeated the motion.

He tore his mouth from her, traveling the length of her jaw down to her neck. The sound of the pulse beating there, a song he could ignore no longer. His canines nipped at it carefully. He would not pierce the skin. Not yet. Not until she told him, showed him.

Lorcan felt the ridge of his shirt stir as Elide began to pull and lift the fabric.

Reluctantly, he parted away from her to meet her demand, her eyes wild and ravenous at the sight of his bare chest. Deep ragged breaths, as she attempted to control the need she had for him. And before he could gain composure of himself, her sight dipped to his abdomen, studying his muscled body. She examined the scars with her fingertips, tracing lines over each and ever single one. Their eyes met as she reached the most recent one— the stab wound in his belly. Recognition sparked in her black eyes, almost like she was placing pieces of a puzzle together.

Lorcan knew he should confess right then and there about the bond. Should tell her before they continue, but fear of her rejection still lingered. He had survived countless wars and attempts on his life. Had survived out of pure spite, and hatred towards those who dared underestimate him. Had survived the death of his mother and the cold, unforgiving streets of Doranelle, but somehow, Lorcan did not believe he could survive that. Her rejection.

Without removing his eyes from hers, Lorcan slowly trailed his hands over her thighs, pushing the nightgown up to her waist, gripped her backside, and ground her into his arousal. A beautiful moan escaped her lips when he repeated the motion, observed as she gripped on to his shoulders, her eyes fluttering shut. He felt himself twitch as he watched her in the moonlight. Could not take his burning sight off of her as he watched a blush spread over her cheeks and flush down her neck to her chest.

Beautiful. She was the most beautiful creature in existence and she was his. His.

Her mouth hastily met his own, and against his lips in a muffled whisper said, “Yes, I’m yours.”

The string that trailed them towards one another began to glow at her confession, the stardust they both shared glimmering and twinkling golden, bright and sacred.

An emotion he could not place took over him. Could it be happiness? Was that what he felt as she proclaimed herself his? Or was it the utter devotion he felt towards this stunning force of light. Lorcan thought it was perhaps both as he drank in this moment, and it was because of that confession that he decided he owed her as much to question what was happening.

And he hated himself for it, because if she realized this was a mistake, he did not know how he would go back to not having her lips on his, not having her look at him in the way she was, as if he was worthy of love… worthy of her.

Elide’s mouth was tracing kisses along his neck when he asked, “Elide, what are we doing?”

She stiffened at his question, her ministrations pausing. “What should have happened in the marsh.” Lorcan groaned at the memory of it. She lifted herself to make eye contact, a question lingering there, her lips swollen and hair disheveled.

The scent of her arousal still lingered in the air, driving him mad. Making it hard for him to think straight, to question the validity of this moment. He needed to tell her. Tell her about their bond. He needed to tell her how he loved her with ever inch of his wicked, despicable soul. Wanted to voice that truth before he took that final step with her. Wanted to beg for her forgiveness and swear fealty to her, the owner of his entire being. It would be as good as a blood-oath, if she would have him.

“There is something, I need to—“

She placed a finger on his mouth. A determination in her face. “No, I want—“ but as quickly as that will power manifested itself, it was replaced with hurt. Abruptly she peeled herself off of him. The loss of her body on his a blow. Nightgown falling to her thighs once more, she crossed over to the small table in the dinning area. A pack sat there along with empty mugs. He watched as a hand trailed over the pack, while her fingers twirled the ring on her other. She faced away from him as if she were unable to look at him, as if it physically hurt her to. And somehow that realization was worse than any battle wound, any betrayal, he had ever experienced.

Her voice soft, and unsure filled the space. “I understand I am not what you truly desire. I know I am not her,” she breathed shakily. His heart shattered at her words, his body began trembling with the sadness beginning to fill his entire body. How could she think that? How could she not know? “But just for tonight, I wanted to pretend. Pretend that the affection you hold for me… I wanted to pretend that you want me the way I want you.”

Before Lorcan could think twice, he rose from his spot, making his way to her. The shock coursing through his entirety threatening to undo him. He allowed his fingertips to graze her shoulder, to touch her smooth skin. Elide took a deep breath as he did so, relaxing slightly. How she thought he still held affection for Maeve was lost on him. Could she not see the truth of her affect on him? Could she not feel the adoration he had for her?

Silently, he turned her towards him. His hands moving gently to her waist. She looked up at him, hurt and curiosity meeting his resolve. Lorcan made a decision in that moment. He may live to regret it, may wish to have done otherwise once this was all said and done, but the thought of her thinking he did not worship the ground she walked on, did not seem to think that he would lay his life for her own out of the love he held for her… it was not something he could bare to live with.

“You can’t truly think that.” He said, his black eyes burning with intensity. Lorcan leaned forward, pushing a strand of hair away as his lips made contact with the base of her throat. A beautiful gasp left her mouth as he heard her heart begin to race.

Nervously, her hands drifted up his chest, shaking as she did so. “You have not shown me otherwise.” She challenged.

Taking a step forward, he pushed her against the table. His nose lingered at her throat, his nostrils flared as he breathed her in. Her lovely, intoxicating, addicting scent. Lorcan kissed the inviting skin on her throat, her arousal filling the room, and that was when he heard more than felt her beg through the bond, Please, do it.

Whatever remaining restraint he had, snapped at her request. Without warning he lifted her on to the table, pushing away all of the contents scattered on it. He did not care about the mess as he heard everything drop to the floor around them. All that mattered was her. Proving to her how he wanted her, craved her. Maybe it was his lack of judgement, the bond, or her influence on him, but he would claim her tonight. Lorcan would do so as he made her his. As he made her cry out in pleasure, that was when he would mark her as his and then he would tell her of the bond. He would do it, Hellas damn him, he would. He did not give a shit anymore. Elide wanted him, and that was enough. It had to be enough.

Elide wrapped her legs around his waist as his hands grazed her thighs, moving the nightgown to her waist yet again. He felt Elide shiver at his movement, and he kissed her earnestly. His mouth devouring her own. Her tongue slid over his own, and he could not help the moan that escaped him. He felt the strain in his pants aching, itching to claim her.

She palmed him over his pants, and he nearly lost himself as he bucked his hips into her hand. He cursed himself silently, reminding himself to be gentle, but that did not seem to deter Elide as she went for the button on his pants, undoing it, and began to pull them down, her hands eager as they did so.

Lorcan in response toyed with the edge of her underwear. Off. He would take them off, even he had to tear them off her lovely body. But first, he could not resist and ran a finger over her core, the cloth damp in her need. She whimpered his name in response. Lorcan wanted her to do it again.

He leaned over her, laying her on the table as he started to inch the cloth down her thighs. Elide halfway in removing his own, smiled up at him, and as he began to grin, he thought of how beautiful she looked beneath him, her rosy cheeks, her long hair sprawled all over her, she was a whole star—an entire constellation beneath him as she burned bright beneath his touch.

Tossing her underwear to the floor, he replaced his mouth from hers to trail down her chest, a hand cupping her breast. He would taste her. Lorcan would show her pleasure before they claimed one another. He would demonstrate to her what it was like to be adored, to be wanted. Elide observed him curiously as he kissed her inner thigh—her hands going to his hair. He began to kneel on the wooden floor. His knee landing on something hard. He turned to it to move it aside annoyed at the disturbance, when his eyes landed upon it, and froze.

His eyes widened, all desire drained from him as he picked up his childhood toy. The one given to him by his mother.

[hcpefuldreaming]

@allthatglxtters (Elide & Lorcan)

After the events of the party and getting stitches in one of her cuts, Elide had slept for a bit, and with a small groan, as she woke up, she looked down at the bandages on her arms and sighed softly, reaching up to try and scratch the top of her nose, but failing to do so as she turned her head and frowned over at her fiancé. "I just know that I'm going to get sick of asking for help until I'm fully healed." She muses and sighs softly. "But can you help me, please?"

[geekgirl9infj]

Harry Potter Next generation ages and personalities

Victoire Apolline Weasley

Birthday:2/05/2000

House:Ravenclaw

Mbti : Infj

Profession: Healer

S/O : Teddy Lupin

Dominique Gabrielle Weasley

Born in 2004

House : Gryffindor

Mbti: ISTP

Profession : French ministry of magic

S/O: Lorcan Newton Scamander(Ravenclaw)

Louis A. Weasley

Born in 2007

House: Ravenclaw

Mbti: Infp

Profession: Chef - owns Restaurant in Paris (L’spirit de Molly; named it after his grandma obvi)

S/O : Pia Thomas (daughter of Dean Thomas and Parvati Patil)

Fred C. Weasley

Born in 2004

House:Gryffindor

Mbti: Enfp

Profession: Weasley’s wizard wheezes

S/O : Camille Wolpert

Roxanne Weasley

Born in 2006

House: Gryffindor

Mbti: ISTP

Profession: Auror or curse breaker

S/O : Liam Finnegan

Molly Audrey Weasley

Born in 2003

House: Gryffindor

Mbti: esfj

Profession: BMOM- Regulation of magical creatures dept.

S/O: Phillip Wood(son of Oliver wood and Penelope Clearwater)

Lucy N. Weasley

Born in 2007

House : Hufflepuff

Mbti : ISFJ

Profession : Astronomy or Divination Professor

S/O: Jason McLaggen (son of cormac McLaggen and Katie bell)

James Sirius Potter

Born in 2004

House : Gryffindor

Mbti: estp

Profession: Auror/England national quiddich team - seeker

S/O: Alice Augusta Longbottom

Albus Severus Potter

Born in 2006

House: Slytherin

Mbti: ISFP

Profession: department of mysteries

S/O: Scorpius Malfoy

Lily Luna Potter

Born in 2008

House: Gryffindor

Mbti: infp

Profession: head editor of daily prophet

S/O: Lysander Scamander

Rose M. Granger-Weasley

Born in 2006

House: Gryffindor

Mbti: Estj

Profession: arithmancy professor

S/O : Tristan Nott

Hugo R. Granger-Weasley

Born in 2008

House : Gryffindor

Mbti: ESFP

Profession: minister of magic

S/O: Ellie Longbottom

[acourtofquestions]

Aelin: Time for plan G.

Chaol: Don’t you mean plan B?

Rowan: No, we tried plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over plan C due to technical difficulties.

Dorian: What about plan D?

Aedion: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago.

Lysandra: I still don’t understand why we dressed up Aelin instead of using the actual shape-shifter…

Manon: What about plan E?

Aelin: I’m hoping not to use it. Lorcan dies in plan E.

Fenrys: I like plan E.

[charincharge]

I Don't Want To Wait, seventy-three

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

AN: Alright, folks, we're in the very final stretch. Second to last chapter here. The final chapter will post next week, and I will have a much sappier note for you all then about what the last four years of this fic have meant to me. But for now... here you go.

“Are you really not going to tell me?” Aelin whined, looking up from her practice exam. As he had for the last several hours, Dorian shook his head of dark curls and glared back. His usually warm blue eyes held a bit of chill to them, but that didn’t dissuade Aelin. If anything, it made her persist harder. “Pleaaaaseeee, Doriannnn,” she continued. “Pleaseeee?”

With a deep, frustrated sigh, he aggressively turned the page to the thick packet of paper on the table in front of him. “I’m really not,” he said, yet again.

“What if I guessed?” Aelin probed. “Would you give me a signal if I said the right name?”

He silently began scribbling his answer, back to studiously ignoring the blonde seated across from him. “You’re infuriating,” he mumbled to himself.

“What about a gender?” she asked. “Or pronouns?” she continued. “He? She? They? Zim? Zer? Zie?”

Dorian slammed his pencil down and frustratedly gripped the bridge of his nose, crinkling it, as if in dire pain.

“I’m not ready to talk about it,” he said. Aelin tried to counter, but he cut her off with a startling admission.

“I am possibly gearing up to invite… this… undisclosed gendered person… to prom—” Aelin gasped, causing Dorian to roll his eyes. “—so, I don’t want to talk about it, because I don’t want to talk myself out of doing it. If that’s alright with her majestyyyy.”

She couldn’t help but bite her lip and nod, seeing the nerves Dorian had been studiously pushing down bubble up and over in his explanation.

“Fine,” she conceded, causing him to sigh a breath of relief. But Aelin couldn’t resist getting in one more piece of information while he was still feeling like disclosing.

Aelin’s grin split across her face as she whispered, “It’s Chaol, isn’t it?”

“Oh my GOD,” Dorian exploded. “You said you were going to let it go! I swear, if I get a one on this AP exam because you wouldn’t shut up about this…”

“Fine, fine,” Aelin said, zipping her still-grinning lips shut.

But she hadn’t failed to notice the way the back of Dorian’s neck stiffened slightly at the C-word. She was even more curious now. She’d had a sneaking suspicion that whatever tension had arisen between the pair during spring break would come to a head, but she really wanted to know how that resulted in them in a bedroom at Lorcan’s together the previous night. And how did they end up like that before Dorian had asked him to prom??? All she knew was that as soon as Chaol said yes to his prom date — because he would, no doubt say yes — she’d be teasing Dory about it for the foreseeable future. Without letting her curious mind wander futher, she resumed her genome diagram, finally putting the topic to rest.

. . .

Aelin wasn’t sure she was going to make it through this week. While her friends were partaking in senior pranks, skips, and general tomfoolery, she was stuck inside the gymnasium for hours at a time, completing her many AP exams. The air was sticky with humidity, and it somehow at its worst during test time. Sun poured through the gym windows, heating the room and steaming every student attempting to complete their already-difficult tests. Even the industrial-sized fans placed in each corner of the room were barely enough to give them relief, simply pushing around the heated air in warm wafts. It was honestly miserable.

Not only that, but between the actual exams and the studying for those exams, she had hours upon hours of nightly dance rehearsals. The showcase would be that weekend, and it seemed like Petrah was running them into the ground, attempting to perfect each piece of choreography. And though Aelin loved to dance — she really did, and she was grateful that she’d reentered the world — but she couldn’t help but think this might be the worst hell week she’d ever had. It was hell in the truest sense of the word. She’d lost track of the days, each one blending together into one giant cloud of stress. T

She wouldn’t have been able to do it without Rowan (and Maeve, to be honest), who had prepared and delivered her a week worth of dinner and snacks. He’d shown up on Sunday night with three bags worth of takeout containers (all labeled) and organized them into the fridge while she took a practice AP Lit exam. Honestly, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to remember to feed herself if he hadn’t, and she was infitinely grateful for their forethought. Yeah, sure, her dad wouldn’t have let her starve, but the end of the school year was always the fire department’s busiest time of year — having to deal with some senior shenanigans. Earlier in the week he’d had to remove a canoe filled with flaming shit (yes, literal bags on fire!) from Orynth High’s field — so, he’d been a bit sparse around the house. Which, wasn’t exactly bad. Aelin was grateful for the silence when she needed to study, but she was an extrovert by nature and her lack of human contact was definitely taking its toll on her. She was fully exhausted, but she could really use a night of socializing or fraternizing with her boyfriend at the very least.

Alas, Rowan was also MIA. She knew he felt like garbage about how little he was seeing her, but he was beholden to an insane practice schedule with his lacrosse championship game approaching. The pair of them were nothing more than passing ships in the night, barely seeing each other for more than a small kiss good morning before parting ways for the day. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time she had a real conversation with him that wasn’t over text.

Fully exhausted, she shook a small container of Caesar dressing into the labeled salad Tupperware, forcing herself to nourish herself before collapsing into bed. She had merely one day left of this torturous week, and then she’d be able to take a deep breath. Maybe.

“You look kinda wrecked, babe,” Lorcan said, grabbing a beer from the back of the Galathynius’s fridge.

“Gee, thanks,” she laughed, elbowing him in the side.  

“I’m serious. You need a vacay,” he said, his face uncharacteristically without any humor. “No, not need. Deserve,” he clarified. “What are your summer plans?”

Aelin didn’t have an answer.

She wracked her brain, thinking of all the time she’d spent thinking about the future and the upcoming months and realized that she’d completely skipped over this summer in her planning. Her future had always started in August when college terms began. She had forgotten to consider how she’d fill the three months of post-graduation time. She assumed based on whatever financial aid package she received that she’d need to take a job, but with her life still so thoroughly in limbo, a plan had never really solidified. Like the rest of her future, it was a hazy cloud. A blank slate. A chasm of nothingness.

“I… don’t know,” she finally replied.

“Well, do you mind if I make a suggestion?” Lorcan laughed.

She finished shaking her salad container and wordlessly followed him over to the couch where he’d already queued up the latest episode of Real Housewives. He patted the cushion next to him, and she collapsed with little hesitation, leaning into his thick shoulder for support. Lorcan was freshly showered and smelled strongly of Ivory soap. It’s how her dad usually smelled, too. It had taken her a while to get used to, but she realized it was the soap they had at the station.  No matter what other shampoo they used, the soapy smell always pervaded her nostrils. It was strangely comforting.

“I think you need to chill the fuck out,” he continued, oblivious to her sentimentality. “I don’t know what that means, but… I think you’ve gotta do something that requires absolutely zero brain power. Maybe that’s lifeguarding or teaching dance to toddlers. Maybe it’s going on a cross-country road trip to try and find the best slice of chocolate cake. Maybe you want to take up a new hobby like gardening or join a karaoke league, I don’t fucking know. But you need to turn your brain off, babe. Let it take a three month breather. You’ll need it before going to college.”

“But I don’t even know if I’m going to college,” Aelin replied. She straightened up away from Lorcan and leaned over to grab a bite of her salad, trying to tune out her self-pity as she stuffed a wad of romaine lettuce into her mouth.

Lorcan simply laughed. “I’ll be the first to tell anyone who listens that college isn’t for everyone. It was never going to be my path, that’s for sure.” Aelin nodded, chewing thoughtfully as she listened. “But, you love to learn. I’ve never seen someone go through books for fun like you. Hell, I don’t think there’s a book in your room you haven’t read more than once. You love to debate and question your own beliefs and opinions, and that’s super cool. But also, it means you are pretty much bred for college life.” He paused and rubbed at his day clean-shaven chin, his eyes warming affectionately at her. “Everything is going to work out exactly the way it was meant to be.”

“That feels far too sentimental and optimistic coming from you,” Aelin eyed him skeptically.

“What can I say?” Lorcan said, stretching his arm across the back seat of their couch. “I’ve changed. Life is good.” His smile widened. “So, what’s the age makeup of your dance company like? Any of-age hotties you can intro me to after the show? Think Petrah would go for a younger daddy type or is she committed to a Rhoe-ish age gap?”

Aelin faux-gagged and pressed play on the TV, happy to ignore Lorcan’s button-pushing. But as the Housewives got into their usual drama, she found herself barely paying attention. Instead, she was imagining all the scenarios she could fill her summer with. And all of them involved being half-naked with Rowan. No matter what this fall brought, Lorcan was right; she needed a serious brain break.

. . .

Aelin breathed the deepest sigh of relief upon finishing her AP Lit exam. She had used the full allotted exam time, not finishing even a second early to go back and revise any of her words, filling the pages with her messy scrawl, analyzing theme after theme and character after character until she thought her hand was going to fall right off. She lifted the back of her shirt, which was drenched with sweat and tried to fan herself, but it was no use. She’d need a cold shower or maybe an ice bath ro reverse the heat stroke this stupid gymnasium had wreaked upon her body. And she couldn’t be more grateful to be finished with it.

Oh my god. She was finished. With exams. And classes. High school was nearly over.

“Congrats, graduate,” a familiar voice called out as Aelin the gym, causing her lips and toes to both curl. She was prepared to fall into his arms, but Rowan’s hands were outstretched, offering up a sprinkle-laden cupcake for her.

“We still have one more week,” she said as she bit into the cupcake. The sugar was exactly what she needed to perk back up after her insane week; she could feel it working its sugary magic with every chew.

But Rowan wasn’t deterred. He nuzzled his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent and leaning against her shoulder.

“Your exams are over, what else even is there to do?”

Aelin laughed. “Um, well, you have your game and I have my performance. Then I guess there’s just… prom and graduation,” she contined. “Oh, and the small factor of trying to get off Wendlyn’s waitlist.” She glared up at his roguish smile. “Nothing major.”

“I miss you,” he said quietly, and Aelin simply hummed her agreement in return.  “Do you have rehearsal tonight?”

Aelin nodded as she took another bite of her cupcake. “Yeah,” she glanced at her phone. “But not for three hours.”

Rowan grinned. “Coach gave us the night off to rest before tomorrow.” His eyes darted around as he pulled her closer. “Wanna do something crazy?”

A pang of lust overtook Aelin as she realized how long it’d been since she’d been truly alone with Rowan. Over a week. She crossed her legs and pressed into him further as arousal coursed through her body.

“Absolutely,” she replied, causing his smile to widen even further and letting him pull her to the jeep with pretty much no hesitation. She was practically vibrating with an overload of hormones when Rowan missed the turn to their secret empty parking lot.

“Uhhh, Ro?” she asked, “You missed our turn.”

“No I didn’t,” he responded, brow furrowed in confusion. “I haven’t even told you what we’re going to do.”

Then it was Aelin’s turn for her brow to furrow. “Huh? I thought we were going to… you know.”

“OH!” Rowan’s cheeks reddened as he looked at his squirming girlfriend. “Uh, we can do that after, if there’s enough time.” He cleared his throat as he drove further down the main drag of Orynth.

“Well, if we’re not going to do that, then what the hell are we going to do?” Aelin asked, brimming with frustration.

His hands grasped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white with effort. He clearly wanted to surprise her. It wasn’t until they pulled into the City Hall parking lot that she finally put the pieces together.

“Wanna get a marriage license?” he asked.

He barely had time to gnaw at the skin of his lip with doubtful nerves before Aelin threw her arms around him and scampered out of the car. It was the first step to their forever. She’d forgotten they needed to make time for it with all that she’d been going through this week, but he hadn’t. And she was grateful.

Orynth’s City Hall was one of the oldest buildings in town, and entering it felt like being a part of history. Its ceilings were high and arched into a unique pattern of arches that crisscrossed overhead, and the green marble floors were tiled and grouted with gold, making each one stand out like a gilded diamond in the late afternoon sun. The marble shined so brilliantly that Aelin took care to walk especially quietly, assuming each step would echo loudly throughout the cavernous building, but her sneaker barely made a sound. In fact, the whole place seemed oddly hushed, as if it was holding its breath with anticipation. It contrasted heavily with Aelin’s racing heart, which thudding loudly in her chest as Rowan reached for her hand and pulled her toward the section of the room that was labeled “MARRIAGE OFFICE.”

The line to the marriage office was unshockingly non-existent on a Friday afternoon in their small town, and after showing their IDs and signing a piece of paper, Rowan and Aelin were quickly the proud owners of an official marriage license. It was over so quickly and unceremoniously that she wasn’t sure it really happened. But as she stared at the paper in her hands, she knew it was real. In five days, they could come back and get fully, a hundred percent married.

Before tucking herself into bed that night, she glanced at the white dress she’d placed in the back of her closet. She’d be able to wear it in five days.

But there was another dress she had to wear first.

. . .

“Everybody scootch together!” Maeve shouted, waving her camera in the air, trying to corral the couples in front of her. The humid weather was making the girls’ hair stick to their foreheads and curl where it wasn’t supposed to be curling, and all they wanted to do was hop into the limo they’d rented and make their way to prom, but Maeve insisted on a full out photo shoot. Apparently she’d gotten barely any photos of her prom night and she was making it all of their problems.

“Now one silly one!” she directed, causing everyone to groan. But her stern glare was enough to get them to all jump back into action and make their most ridiculous faces. Aelin stuck out her tongue and scrunched her eyes shut, causing Rowan to laugh beside her. He looked so incredibly handsome in his fully black suit. His green eyes popped and glinted in the golden rays of the setting sun, making him utterly irresistible. She wanted to fast forward to the end of the evening and peel him out of it, piece by piece, but that was hours away. If Rowan’s hands were any indication, he felt similarly. Her black dress had a low back with a twisting gold design up the back, subtly resembling a dragon, and he couldn’t stop touching her exposed skin. She shivered as his knuckle brushed against the low divot of her spine, and she looked up at him with absolutely no filter to her more lascivious thoughts.

“Keep it in your pants, babe,” Lorcan shouted from beside Maeve. She simply flicked him off.

“Classy,” Rhoe grumbled. “Keep that one for the grandkids.”

“Okay, now one sweet one. Look at your partner, tell them how good they look…… smile, Rowan!” she sang out, causing the lines of his frown to deepen further.

“Aunt Maeveee,” Rowan finally said with a long sigh. “We’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon.”

“Rowan Eugene Whitethorn,” Maeve chastised, “This is the only prom you and Aelin have attended together, and I will get at least as many photos as you took with Lyria two years ago, is that okay with you?”

Rowan’s jaw snapped shut at his aunt’s words, nodding in apology and hugging Aelin’s waist tighter at the mention of his last prom date.

“That was junior prom,” he grumbled. “It’s not even remotely the same thing,” he continued. “And she wasn’t even there. How does she know how many pictures we took?”

Aelin snorted loudly. “She tagged you in every single one on Facebook.” She laughed at Rowan’s raised eyebrow. “We allllll saw them,” she drawled, pursing her red lips at him. She laughed as he shook his head in disgust.

“So weird,” Rowan mumbled, mostly to himself.

“SMILE,” Maeve shouted, clearly annoyed that Rowan and Aelin were talking and not posing for her needs. They paused their convo to smile at each other with hearts in their eyes, and Aelin couldn’t resist lifting her heels even higher to press her lips to Rowan’s cheek.

“OH!” Maeve gasped. “Adorable. Let’s all do cheek kisses.”

“Can we not?” Dorian groaned from where his arms were wrapped around Chaol’s waist. Yes, that’s right, Aelin had been correct in her assumption that the pair of best friends had worked through whatever issues had plagued them and come out the other side. Aelin didn’t want to parade her rightness in Dorian’s face, but she had told him “I told you so” at least once of the best friends’ graduation from ~it’s complicated~ to prom dates. Prom dates who kissed each others’ cheeks. Chaol ignored Dorian’s complaining and laid his lips directly on his friend’s scruff, causing a soft rosy blush to appear on the tips of Dorian’s ears. Aelin thought back to two years ago when she had kissed Chaol in his car and couldn’t help but smile. All along the pair of them were meant to be with their own best friends. Who would have known?

Chaol’s midnight suit glimmered in the setting sun, making Dorian’s eyes shine even more blue, somehow. And though he protested initially, he leaned into his friend’s lips, looking at ease for the first time in weeks.

On Aelin’s other side, Elide and Manon were circling each other in bright swaths of color. Manon looked ferocious in a teal jumpsuit that was a few shades darker than her bright turquoise hair. Its neckline plunged between her cleavage, showing off her pale skin and a sleeve of fresh floral ink, winding around her biceps and forearm. It was the perfect compliment to Elide’s fairy light green tulle dress, which floated around them in glittering layers.

Behind them, Lysandra had surprised them all by showing up with her own date. The way they’d been during spring break, she’d half expected it to be Aedion, but she’d shown up with another sober friend from her AA group. A really nice guy named Harding. He’d apparently known Wesley, and instead of being a deterrent, it had strangely bonded Lys with him.

“Now kiss!” Maeve shouted, and Lysandra whipped her dark hair in Maeve’s direction and scowled.

“Some of us aren’t like that!” she said.

Rowan finally left the group and went over to Maeve and pushed her camera down. “I think you’ve got enough,” he said, and she nodded, letting them all disperse and make their way into the waiting limo.

Aelin had created a playlist and plugged it into the backseat. “Who’s ready to see some prom queens?” she asked, letting her friends cheer as Manon and Elide kissed each other thoroughly as the music blared overhead. For the first time in a long time, Aelin felt relaxed. She felt like … this was a seminal teen moment that she would remember for the rest of her life, and she was secretly glad that Maeve wanted to capture as much of it as she did. She knew that many years from now, she would go through the photos with the same warmth in her heart that was taking up space there right now.

. . .

As the hours passed, Aelin became even more grateful for Maeve’s forced documentation. Despite camera phones capturing video and photos galore, the night was passing by too quickly. And despite the pain that Aelin had felt in her years walking the halls of Orynth High and the question marks that awaited her on the other side, tonight was perfect.

The dance had a ridiculously cheesy theme that no one actually adhered to: Enchanted Forest. But the décor had completely transformed the stuffy gym that Aelin had hated so thoroughly the previously week. Twinkle lights twined through the lush greenery that lined the walls, and a glowing path of low mushrooms and lanterns lit the way to a photobooth that was covered in a romantic arch of branches. Overhead, they’d released a sea of green and gold balloons that covered the ceiling, but they floated around, transporting them all to a different world. It was silly, but it felt like magic. Aelin never wanted to leave this place.

Her fingers grasped Rowan’s neck tighter as a slow song came on, and she breathed his pine scent in deeply as he leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. His lips ghosted hers, not fully kissing her, but not not kissing her either. Her entire body was alight with an amorous flame that hadn’t been quenched in days. His hand ran up her bare back, and it took all her restraint not to moan out loud. Instead, she sighed into his mouth.

“I love you,” she whispered, their breaths mingling at how close they were to each other.

“Gods, I love you,” he replied.

He kissed her then, deeply, soundly, not caring that camera flashes went off around them. He broke their kiss, panting slightly, and she couldn’t resist patting down the lapels of his suit and smoothing them beneath her palm. Reminding her that this was real. That he was hers.  

“This is everything I’ve ever wanted,” he finally said, breaking her from her spell.

“Is it?” she asked, and though it was a leading question, she did actually want to know the answer.

As it had been mentioned earlier in the evening, Rowan had been to prom before, and he hadn’t really enjoyed it. In fact, he’d left pretty damn early. It hadn’t been a secret that Rowan didn’t enjoy school dances. Or school events. Or events of any kind, really. And she didn’t blame him for that. But she hadn’t expected him to love this night the way that she was loving it. Strangely, he sounded sincere, though.

A wry grin turned up half of his smile in a new roguish grin he’d been trying out that made him oh so appealing in ways that Aelin couldn’t even begin to articulate.

“Yeah, Ace,” he laughed softly. “It is.”

She knew she was fishing but she couldn’t help herself. “Why?” she asked, and though she thought he’d admonish her, his grin disappeared and his face turned as serious as ever as he gathered his thoughts.

“Because.” He cleared his throat and gave her an apologetic smile. “This was the way it should have always been,” he said. “When I came to prom with Lyria…” he drifted off and his eyes lost focus, as if remembering back to those days. They seemed so far away now. “I kept thinking how annoyed I was that I was there, and it wasn’t because I didn’t like school dances. Although… I don’t love those,” he chuckled lightly. “It’s because I wasn’t with you. Lyria barely cared that I was there. She just wanted me as a prop for her photos. And I was so mad at myself for not saying no, because the idea of going to prom with you had always been in the back of my head.” He kissed her cheek. “I wanted it to be you then because I’ve wanted it to be you forever. And yeah… it’s stupid, but… I’m glad I get to have this with you. Finally.”

Aelin’s throat tightened at his words, because she remembered how fucking miserable she’d been that night. She wouldn’t rub it in now. She wouldn’t tell him how she spent the night pained and alone on the rooftop, angsting about every moment that he’d spent with his arms wrapped around Lyria, but she was glad he’d felt it, too. Because it was always better when it was them.

She was seconds away from begging him to take her home and make her remember how good they were together when Principal Havillard tapped at his microphone.

“It’s that time of the evening, folks,” he said, clearing his throat and looking out into the crowd. “Voting for Prom King and Queen has been going on for the last four weeks, and as of yesterday, our panel of math teachers has finished calculating the results.” He paused again, looking slightly uncomfortable. “The results have been double and triple checked, and all that’s left to do is announce them…” The principal was noticeable uncomfortable as he reached for the envelope in his pocket, ripping it open and preparing to read the words that Aelin knew would be there. She and Dorian had calculated the polls multiple times. There was no way there was going to be any other result.

“Your Prom King and Queen are Manon Blackbeak and Elide Lochan,” he announced to an overwhelming, raucous applause.

Aelin and Rowan were among them, shouting at the top of their lungs as the spotlight found their friends on the dance floor and led them up to the stage, hand in hand. To principal Havillard’s credit, he did not react at all as he pulled the crowns from the teachers behind him, who held up plush red pillows donned with their headwear.

Manon pulled the thick gold crown onto her own head before placing the more delicate tiara onto Elide’s dark curls. The pair stared at each other, smiling widely, before Elide pulled Manon into a kiss. As the cheers echoed through the gym, Manon dipped Elide low, never breaking the kiss, though Aelin spotted the corners of a smile peeking through.

“PROM QUEENS!” one student shouted. “PROM QUEENS!” A chant rippled through the gym, reaching an apex as the pair finished their kiss and headed down to the dance floor for their first dance. It was supposed to be something slow and romantic, but Aelin already knew that Dorian had switched it out. He’d called in a favor with his friends in the drama department, and Aelin couldn’t help the wave of joy that washed over her as ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” began to play overhead.

She didn’t wait for Rowan’s approval before dragging him into the center of the dance floor with her friends, who were circling Manon and Elide and shouting the lyrics of the song at them. The pair buried their chins into each other’s shoulders, smiling harder than Aelin had ever seen them. Joy. Pure joy. That’s what this moment was. She could see Archer shrinking to the side of the gym out of the corner of her eye, but she barely gave the asshole a second of her thought before shimmying closer to her friends.

This moment was everything.

“Young and sweeeeeet,” Aelin shouted as loud as she could, twirling out into her group of her friends. “Only seventeeeen,” she said with an overexaggerated point to Elide and Manon, who were swaying and wrapped in each other’s arms.  

“Dancing queen, feel the beat from the tambourine!” Dorian shouted as loud as he could, and Aelin laughed as Chaol disco’ed in a circle around him, pretending to play an air tambourine.

“OH YEAHHHHH!” Rowan interjected, causing Aelin’s brows to rise in surprise.

“What?” he shrugged. “Everyone knows the words to this one,” he said, and Aelin couldn’t help but release a loud peal of laughter.

In that moment, it didn’t matter that Aelin didn’t know she was going. Yes, they would all be headed their own ways soon, but it didn’t matter where they were all going. This moment was perfect. And they’d always have this. They’d look back on this moment as one of their best, with a nostalgic fondness that can’t ever really be recreated.

Aelin ushered them all closer until they were all huddled together with their arms around Manon and Elide. She barely noticed the nods of appreciation from the girlfriends, totally distracted by Rowan’s voice and the supportive arm at the crux of her back. They danced the night away, until it was way past when she thought they’d leave. Song after song, they stayed on the dance floor, letting their bodies sway and jump and twist and twirl. Exhilaration filled their circle, never dying down or even coming to a brief lull that would let them take off.

She’d anticipated there being a good moment of downtime for her and Rowan to make their escape, to peel off and go partake in the second half of the evening on Maeve’s rooftop. But even as the night wore on and the dance floor started to become more sparse, she felt herself unable to leave.

“You ready to go?” she finally asked Rowan, but he shook his head. “NO?!” she asked, bewildered.

“No,” he laughed. He grabbed her hand and her feet tumbled toward him as he pulled her against his chest. She looked up at his grinning face and felt a mirror image on her own. If someone had told her two years ago that she’d be in Rowan’s arms, dancing for hours at prom together, she probably would have burst into tears — because that person would surely have been mocking her. At that moment, Rowan’s hand squeezed her hip, pulling it against his in a brief gesture of comfort, as if to reassure her that yes, this was real. And she couldn’t imagine it being any other way.

It wasn’t until the music stopped and the lights abruptly turned on that Aelin even realized they were the last ones standing. She and her friends had effectively shut down prom, completely unaware of their classmates’ departure. Under the bright fluorescent light, the enchanted forest décor had lost a bit of its luster, simply looking like fake props and cheesy party décor.

“Gods, I’m starving,” Elide breathed as she wiped a stream of sweat from her brow.

“Me too,” Manon replied as she dug her teeth into Elide’s bare shoulder. The brunette squealed loudly as the bite turned to soft kisses.

“Burgers at Maeve’s?” Rowan suggested, and Aelin’s chest warmed as he was met with enthusiastic cheers. Clearly no one wanted this night to end. How could they? It was perfect.

As they tumbled out from the sticky gym into the cool night air, Aelin looked up into the star studded sky and took a deep breath. Next week… well, next week was graduation. In a few days, they’d all be going their separate ways. But for now, she couldn’t care about that. Instead, she followed Lysandra’s lead and kicked off her heels. Her toes thanked her as they stretched out, and she groaned in pleasure with their first step onto the high school’s turf, which was cold and damp beneath her feet. Shoes in one hand and Rowan in the other, she joined in the conversation of how shocked Archer looked to lose as prom king.

“I’m pretty sure he demanded a recount,” Chaol said with a low snort. “I heard your dad reassure him at least twice that the ballots had been counted accurately.”

Dorian cackled wickedly. “I also counted the ballots. And, uh, yeah. He lost. By a landslide.”

“TO A GIRL!” Manon shouted, tipping her crown to all of them and causing them to cheer raucously again.

Their voices echoed over the wide expanse of turf, and for a minute, Aelin let herself feel grounded and at peace. She was hyper focused on the way Chaol’s face lit up as Dorian hopped onto his back, on Lysandra’s easy grin as she skipped through the grass, on Manon’s proud puffed-out chest as she pushed a messy curl behind the side of Elide’s tiara, and on the steady swipe of Rowan’s thumb against her back. She’d breathe it in and exhale it out, and let this overwhelming sense of rightness soothe her. No, right now she wouldn’t think about what their next chapter would bring. She’d live in this moment for as long as she could.