Scene, enter major disappointment, enter the name
my mother wanted to give me but my father had his mother,
had his love picked. This is only important because a house
is not a home just because the glass case stays on.
So, there is nothing sentimental about the doll house
except that it was beautiful, except that I imagined myself
two inches small. The worst thing a girl can be is tall,
is loud, is pregnant, is happy. The worst thing a girl
can be is loved. You raise a baby and you carve out
a daughter in your image, your eyes, your bad habits,
which means this story has happened before. A house
is not a home just because you store your boxes there.
So, there is no undoing ancestry in pop-tarts, or coffee,
or an ivy league education, except that these were
the puzzle pieces I had to shave myself, except that
I imagined myself Wonder Woman, saving the day.
The worst thing a girl can be is her mother’s nightmare.
I raise a baby and I give up my heroism, my closet,
my name. This story has happened to me and I am
not ready to see it reel back again. A legacy is not
a family just because people die.
Enter the wheel that keeps spinning, enter the cycle
of unplanned motherhood and burdened motherhood
and quiet paternity. Enter the sound of one person trying
to fall asleep. Enter someone with your face with my face
with her face. Enter a child.
When she tells you that she wants to be just like you,
you’ll call it a blessing, a gift. But the glass case doll house,
the shared pop-tarts, the other side of every duality.
But it’ll be years before you recognize the prophecy.
The worst thing a girl can be is herself. Enter me.
Jack is wretchedly sick and Bitty is taking care of him. (Not hospital sick, but still total feverish misery.)
Jack doesn’t really get sick. Years of spending hours a day in ice rinks have left him all but immune to the effects of the cold, he takes multivitamins religiously, eats well, sleeps consistently, and keeps up with his doctor’s appointments. He’s the picture of physical health, and he’s gotten quite used to it.
Jack doesn’t really get sick.
But when he does, he gets really sick.
Like, truly, pathetically, bed-ridden sick. In fact, the incident that cemented his friendship with Lardo came when they were the only two crashing at the Haus for spring break Sophomore year, and he came down with a late flu so badly that he couldn’t keep himself steady on his feet. For the worst couple days of it, he was so weak she had to help him to the bathroom to pee. They never spoke of it to the guys, but by the time everyone came back, they were ride or die.
And Jack hadn’t been sick again before graduation. As he kicked into high gear preparing himself to enter the NHL, he was even more obsessively healthy, and with Bitty holding the Haus to a higher standard of cleanliness, there were fewer germs flying around than ever before. The only thing that could’ve sabotaged him was the “awful green couch that probably had smallpox in it, good lord”, but even that, he’d built up an immunity to. But being in a totally new city, in a new apartment, and surrounded by all new people - some of which had very tiny children - was enough to do him in. And when Providence flu season rolled around, there was no vaccine or vitamin supplement that could save him.
My first Wally imagine? You betcha! Also, sorry if you don’t like Pop Tarts. Feel free to change that to anything else hahaha
Title: Pop Tart Thief Pairing: Wally West x reader Summary: A roast session with Wally gets too real and Wally tries to make it up to you. Along the way, his feelings for you slip out Word Count: 1,055 Warnings: Food mention
pulls off his cowl as he saunters into the Cortex, Barry close behind him. The
older speedster pats him on the back, congratulating him on another successful
trial. Wally had been improving steadily, and these training sessions have only
boosted his progress.
bad, Kid Flash,” Barry teases. “Keep training and maybe you’ll get
dig incites ooh’s from the rest of the team. Wally has a look of offense on his
face as Barry just grins, proud of his own diss.
that a challenge?“ Wally retorts, arms crossed.
@fireheart-cursebreaker - As requested and promised. A fan fiction of the Suriel as the Flower Girl at Feyre’s wedding. I had to decide if I wanted to make this funny or serious. And I had to choose if the Suriel would enjoy the experience or loathe Feyre for all eternity because of it. In the end, I tried to stay as true to the Suriel’s character as I possibly could, which led to some very interesting content. And there’s a little twist at the end that I hope you love. Enjoy!
All rights to the story and characters belong to SJM.
There was too much bustling about for Its taste. Too many people running to and fro with fabric and flowers, jewelry and crowns, platters laden with honeyed tarts and other disgusting, foul smelling delicacies. Blood. Fear. Screams of agony. The pleas of the dying for mercy. That is what the Suriel longed to feast upon. It had been in this damned city far too long. But It had made a promise. And the Suriel never broke Its promises. Whether they were promises of eternal torment, or promises of truth and friendship. Friend. That is what Feyre had called It the day she once again trapped It deep in the Illyrian Mountains. It had smelled her coming long before she arrived, and was curious to hear what Feyre-Cursebreaker, Defender of Velaris, High Lady of Night would wish to ask.
Okay so i love supernatural and fantastical creatures so of course when i saw this prompt my eyes just lit up and i mean after the Halloween event. Reinhardt is perfect for this so i hope you all enjoy!
Also Witches while commonly used to refer to women, is also still used for men which is why i used it.
Edit: whoops! Didn’t realise that i hadn’t written milord after milady. Sorry everyone it’s fixed now!
You were a simple baker living in a small town a few miles from Eichenwalde, the destroyed city in Germany. You were one of the two bakers in town, you handled everything from simple bread to extravagant tarts. The other baker in town specialized in cakes, it was a good deal you had going on with you sending customers who wanted really special cakes to the other baker and the other baker doing the same for you.
There was no hate between the two of you or between you and anyone else that lived in the town. You’d been living there since you were born and had decided to stay when your parents moved away after you graduated. You had of course gone to a culinary arts school and had some training but you’d been welcomed back home afterwards.
You liked your home, it was quiet most days with you mostly getting ring in orders or the occasional couple coming in for a date. It was nice and just how you liked it.
When things are quiet, no one asks questions.
You were working in the kitchen when the bell from the door rang as the door opened and you cleaned your hands quickly
“Just a minute!” You called
“Take your time!” A loud booming voice called back and you quickly cleaned yourself off and took off your apron before moving to the front of the store to see…a very large, very tall man standing there. A big grin on his face.
You couldn’t help but be a little intimidated
“What can i help you with Sir?” you asked politely and he grinned
“Well i was pointed your way by a few people and i was wondering if i could buy a box of cupcakes, 8 cupcakes. I am treating my friends as we pass through” He told you and you let out a quiet hum but his next words made you pause “We are passing through to go to Eichenwalde”
“Eichenwalde you say? why on earth would you want to go there, nothing but ghosts left in that town” you told him, leaning forward on the counter. You should know. You’d banished some of them. You noticed his grin dropped and he looked serious
“A lot of Crusaders lost their lives there and i want to collect my Master’s armour and give him a proper burial” He said
It suddenly struck you that you’d seen this man before
“T-That’s…That’s very noble of you Reinhardt but, that place it’s, It’s full of dangerous spots and quite a few traps that the people of that town set up but were never triggered. It’s dangerous” You said trying to warn him off but he shook his head, looking firm.
“No, it is my duty” He said and you let out a quiet sigh, nodding
“Alright, well a box of 8 will cost you 10 dollars” You said and he paid you, you held up a finger before going into the store room and relaxing once you shut the door.
You had enchanted to room to keep the baked goods fresh since you baked the stuff you sold every day the night and morning before, you walked over to the shelf you had marked ‘With Luck’ and grabbed 8 cupcakes.
All of them enchanted and magical.
Reinhardt and his friends were going to need all the luck they could get to avoid the traps and do what they wanted to unharmed. You were just giving Lady Luck a boost and a prompt.
2 Vanilla, 2 Strawberry, 2 Chocolate and 2 Red Velvet.
They all had the same black base icing with golden swirls on the top so they weren’t anything fancy. Just your normal everyday magical cupcakes.
You walked back into the store front, shutting the door behind you before you put the cupcakes on the counter, grabbed a flat-pack box and quick assembled it before putting the cupcake holder in and put all the cupcakes inside. Shutting the box was easy and you showed Reinhardt how to open and close the box before giving it to him
“Thank you” He told you, his big grin back on his face and you smiled. Giving him a nod
“You are quite welcome Sir, thank you for all you did while with Overwatch and for all that your doing” you said, giving him a knowing wink. He just smiled and gently took your hand, pressing a sweet kiss to it causing your cheeks to redden
“It is an honour milady/milord" he said before he returned your hand to the counter and left the store, leaving a very flustered you behind the counter.
You watched him until he walked away from the windows of your store and then furiously fanned your face, flustered beyond belief as you walked back into the kitchen and grabbed yourself some water.
‘No the knight is off limits, he is probably here on Overwatch business and like he said, he’s just passing through’ you mentally scolded yourself and after you finished your drink. You went right back to work.
A few days later you were opening shop when a few of the older ladies hurried over to you, wanting to get out of the cold and you quickly ushered them all inside and turned the heater on.
Making them some warm tea-which they all thanked you for-you gave them all a slice of cake-magically enchanted to warm the person who ate it for a few minutes-like you always did and you listened to them as they got you up to speed with the most recent news while you set up shop.
A particular piece of news hitting your ears and making you almost drop the plate you were carrying
“Marge? Could you repeat what you said about Eichenwalde?” You asked politely as you set the display plate down and put a lemon tart down on it
“Oh of course dear. One of the Crusaders is asking for help restoring the place. He found out that Lord Balderich left the castle to any remaining crusaders in his will and he said that he wants to get his old home thriving again. Can’t you imagine it dear? We will get new people to talk to as they pass through. It’s going to be wonderful” Marge said happily and you let out a hum of agreement just to move the ladies along topic wise.
You were hiding your panic
You often went to Eichenwalde to grab ingredients and you couldn’t do that if there was people living there!
‘It will take months and people might not even want to move there, it’s fine. it’ll turn out okay’ you thought to yourself as you continued setting up shop. ‘At least i hope it will’
The rest of your morning went without incident thankfully, you were about to start eating lunch when the door opened and in walked Reinhardt.
Your thoughts flicked back to the hand kiss and you quickly shoved it down before you started to blush
“Hello again Reinhardt, what can i do for you?” you asked, your smile more real this time…even if there was a hint of shyness to it.
“I was wondering if you could sit and talk with me?” he asked and you furrowed your brow, looking confused before he laughed and quickly continued “I would like for you to make me something to bring with me to the council members when i meet with them to discuss bringing glory back to my home!”
“You mean you want me to make you something to soften them up?” you asked, a amused twinkle in your eyes and you laughed when he managed to look sheepish
“Yes” he answered, rubbing the back of his neck and you just giggled softly
“Do you want a tart, more cupcakes, biscuits, cookies or sweet bread?” You asked and he looked delighted that even with you guessing what he was planning to do, you still agreed
“Come Come, we shall sit and talk” He said gesturing to one of the tables and you smiled nodding.
The two of you spent most of the afternoon talking after Reinhardt and you both had some freshly made sandwiches, you had both agreed on a tart of the berry variety. Reinhardt was trusting your bakers instinct to take it from there and you were thankful for it.
You were bursting with ideas and thankfully Reinhardt had come to you a week early so you had plenty of time.
You looked down at your notes and smiled before looking up at the excited German man
“I will have a tart ready the morning of the meeting, thank you for trusting me with this Reinhardt” you said happily and he smiled at you, you pretended you couldn’t feel the blush on your cheeks
“You honour me by making it my dear” He said, pressing a kiss to your hand again. Your blush just getting worse as he stood up “I will see you soon?”
It should have been a statement but it sounded more like a question and you smiled, nodding
“I’ll see you soon” You agreed and he sent you a warm smile before leaving the store, you immediately ran into the kitchen to get started.
A/N- Hey! I just want to say thank you to everyone that’s following the series and to everyone for there kind words. I really appreciate it! Y’all got me so emotional. I really hope you like this part x
This scenario contains mature and sexual themes. You have been warned!
Okay, let’s not have a nervous break down. But Park fucking Jimin did just tell you he loved you. He really did. Holy mother of fuck, the fuck boys of all fuck boys is in love. He’s in love with you…
“Sorry, what?” You stand there staring at him, not able to understand what the fuck just happened. Shouldn’t you be happy, or do you need a vodka and maybe some chicken nuggets. Both sound really good right about now, don’t they.
“I love you. I’m in love with you, Y/N.” He’s still kneeling on the floor. You don’t know what to do. What if he leaves again? You couldn’t handle that, the last month as been hell. All you did was wonder if he was okay. You didn’t even car if he was getting with other girls, yeah you did, you just wanted to know if he was okay.
“Why are you telling me this now? Where were you six fucking weeks again, huh? Where were you when all I did was stare at my phone hoping you’d shoot me a text saying you were okay. Where you when I was worried sick about you, asshole!” You spit at him, all the hurt and sorrow now turning into anger.
“I never asked you to worry about me, okay. You did that all on your own.” He snaps back, running a hand through his hair in annoyance. You glare at him, is he really getting anger that you were worried for his well being. Is that really happening, sorry gal but it is.
“You are right, you didn’t ask me too. I may as well stop. Good bye Jimin.” You start walking again.
“Are you really walking away right now? I just told you I love you.” You ignore him continuing your stride home. “Y/N, could you please just give me five minutes?” He sounds desperate, you don’t want to give in so easily, it’s been six weeks with no word from him. But you can’t help your self.
“Fine, five minutes.” You turn and walk back to him. He hands you the flowers, you accept them, cause what’s he going to do with them.
“Can we sit down?” You nod, you both sit a metre a part from each other on the steps in front of the library. “I-I I’m sorry I left when you said you loved me. I have never said those words to anyone before and no one as every said them to me. So I ran cause I was scared. I know that was a dick move.”
“You think?” You interrupt.
“It was, I never ever wanted to hurt you of all people. I can’t begin to explain how much you mean to me, it scares the shit out of me. Remember when you were baby sitting your nephew and I came over. I felt like we were a family, I want that in my future. I want it to be you, me and our kid. Fuck, I love you so much.” Jimin pulls out a cigarette, puts it in between his teeth and lights it. He in hales and exhales a cloud of smoke. The sigh alone making you wet. “I know you probably want nothing to do with me and probably don’t want my babies. But I just had to tell you, that I love you and you’re probably the only person I will ever love. So I’m sorry for being a asshole. I hope you find what you want in life.” Jimin gets up and starts walking away,
Your trying hard to understand what he just said. Park Jimin wants your babies. He wants you, him and a baby. Is this real? Yass, but he’s walking away…
“Jimin.” You shout after him. He turns around and you run to him, wrapping your arms around him. He wraps you up tightly in his arms, kissing the crown of your head. “You left me you asshole!” Tears start to stream down your face, you punch him in the crest. He just holds you tighter. “I hate you.” you punch him again.
“I know, baby, I know.” He strokes your hair as you continue to cry.
“I don’t hate you, I love you. But your still an asshole!” You say pulling away to wipe your tears.
“I know, baby you’ll never get rid of me now.” He smirks.
“And I do want to be with you and have your babies. Not right now but in the future. But do you know what we can do.” You smile.
“We can practice making babies, for you know when the time comes.” You look down to the floor, embarrassed by what you just said. Jimin pulls you into his embrace.
“Ugh, I love you so fucking much.” He picks you up and twirls you around, you giggle. He smiles down at you, “Let’s go practice making our beautiful babies.” He grabs your hand, bringing you to his car. He opens the back door.
“Get in!” You stare at him confused. “Babe, I can’t wait till we get home to fuck you. We have to have a quickie.” He gets in the back and you just giggle, getting in after him.
“Did you miss me that much?” You ask playfully hitting his chest. He pulls you on top of him, you’re straddling his hips.
“You have no idea, sweetheart.” Jimin captures your lips in a heated kiss, his hands running up and down your body. Your lips part letting Jimin’s tongue dominate your mouth. You start to grind your hips down on him, feeling how hard he is for you.
“Baby girl, no teasing and no foreplay, I really need to just be inside you.” You smile against is mouth.
“Okay.” You undo his pants, he lifts his hips so you can pull them and his boxers down. His erection springs free, you undo your own pants and lift off Jimin to get them down. He helps pulling your panties down along with them. Sadly they are not your sexy ones, you didn’t think you would be fucking Jimin in the back of his car in front of the library. A little heads up would have been nice..
“You’re so fucking gorgeous, how did I go so long without seeing you. That’s never happening again. You’re mine, no other fuck tarts. Mine!” You can’t help but love this possessive side of Jimin.
“I’m all yours. I only want you.” You say kissing up his neck, you pump his erection a few times before positioning your centre up with it. You slowly slip him inside of you, making him moan loudly.
“Fuck, you’re so tight. Ugh, I missed this, you, so fucking much.” He says. Your forehead is on his, looking into each others eyes, you start to move up and down his shaft. You moan out his name, as he is already hitting that spot inside you. As start to feel more comfortable, you start to bounce up and down on Jimin. He rips your top down the middle taking it off along with your bra. You couldn’t care less it was oh so arousing.
“I just wanted to see your tits bounce for me.” Jimin says kissing your neck, sucking a purple and blue trail down your neck and chest. It screams out to people that your his. That’s all you want, to be his.
“Fuck, Jimin.” You scream as he starts to meet you thrust for thrust, making you bounce higher and harder. He was fucking you into oblivion. “J-J-Jimin, I-I’m coming.” You pant, as you can feel your orgasm coming.
“Come for me baby girl.” Jimin thrusting hard up into you. Your orgasm comes hard and fast, you chant his name like a mantra. Jimin comes soon after you, your so tight around him. As you ride out your highs, he kisses you all over saying ‘I love you’ over and over again. Well aren’t you a lucky lady.
“Never, leave me again.” You look him dead in the eyes, showing him your not fucking about any more. As you shouldn’t your a classy lady that deserves the world on a sliver platter.
“The only way I will ever leave you is if I die. Even if you hate me and want rid of me in 10 years, I’m not going. I don’t give a shit, you’re my baby girl. My love.” He kisses your nose.
“Let’s go home.”
That night when you go back to Jimin’s apartment, you both legit have sex on every surface of his apartment. You can’t even count how many orgasms you have had. Your all fucked out. Both making up for lost time. You are laying in Jimin’s arms under the covers, in pure bliss.
“Move in with me?” Jimins asks turning his head to look at you.
“What are you serious?” You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Park fucking Jimin said he loves you and is asking you to move in with him in the same day. WHAT THE FUCK MAN!!
“Yes, I’m serious. So what if it’s to soon, I love you, you love me. I don’t see the problem, we probably would have done it anyway. So why not just do it now. That way I can wake up to your beautiful self every morning.” He smiles kissing your temple.
“Okay, let’s move in together.” You giggle. He rolls on top of you kissing you all over your face, you just giggle.
The door bell rings. “Who could that be at this hour?” You ask, Jimin gets up and slips on some shorts.
“You stay here, okay. Don’t come out!” He walks out closing the door behind him. What the fuck was that. What’s he doing.
You hear mumbling. Then a gun shot.
A/N- Okay so I get if you all hate me for this, but when I’m reading I love the intense shit. That your like HOLY MOTHER OF FUCK, so I thought I’d try it. hhehe. I love you all really, just thought we could spice it up. If you want a part 5 message me! Feedback is always appreciated!!
Thank you all so much for reading. I hope you Enjoyed and I didn’t disappoint anyone.
mags n Scott doing coupley things like feeding each other tart but it’s the most uncomfortable thing to watch because they’re both so damn serious like the future of mutantkind depends on mags getting cream off Scott’s lip
just letting you all know that you NEED to order eyeshadow palettes from juvia’s place. cheaper, bigger, and 1000x better than you’d normally get. seriously. like the best quality eyeshadow i’ve ever used (i’ve used anywhere from elf to colourpop to UD, KVD, Tarte, other high end brands) and in terms of price+quality the other stuff doesn’t compare. order from them, seriously
Was really looking forward to catching you at the Fire Fest, but timing didn't work out between shows and how busy everything was. Would you consider setting up shop elsewhere sometime during Midsummer?
Yes of course! I dont know when or where but I will be at other Tarts events in the future. If you have something specific in mind, let me know!
This one just didnt work out. Im sorry to dissapoint you. My availability wasnt until after the main stage show had started and by the time it was over things were wrapping up for the evening. Lesson learned the hard way, unfortunately! But a valuable learning experience all the same.
Thank you for sending this. I didnt think anyone even noticed tbh. Your message means a lot to me. 💕
Aelin Ashryver Galathynius and Rowan Whitethorn were just exiting their rooms when they bumped into Lysandra and Aedion, who’s raucious laughter abruptly stopped at the unexpected encounter.
“Aelin,” Aedion greeted while smiling handsomely. His eyes scanned over her, taking in the simple, yet elegant gown the color of the forests in her homeland, decorated with silver accents she was wearing—the colors of Terrasen. It hugged her quite comfortably around her bust and hips before delicately fanning out at her knees and graced the floors.
He nodded in approval. “I must say, you do look quite beautiful, cousin.”
Aelin smiled, weaving her arm through Rowan’s before setting off at a comfortable pace down the hall. Lysandra and Aedion followed.
She thanked him and them and said, “I admit that you clean up quite nicely as well.”
“The same for you, Rowan,” Lysandra commented with a wicked gleam in her eyes, “I can’t remember the last time I saw you in anything other than that ratty old brown tunic and pants.”
Rowan scoffed, but teased, “You already know what my motto is, Lys,” he paused. “Comfort over style.”
Aelin groaned. This was a conversation she and Rowan had had many times in the past. And each time it ended the same, with her insisting that he did not have to sacrifice comfort for style, and with him convinced that there was no way you could possibly look presentable without some level of discomfort.
“So,” Lys interrupted, “How do you all like your rooms? Aedion seems to prefer mine over his own.” Aedion grinned, but Aelin sensed the hidden meaning behind the seemingly innocent question. What are your feelings on this place?
Rowan replied, “They’re quite nice. Plenty of space and room for everyone, I think.”
They rounded a corner, and Aelin realized that they were nearing their final destination. Feyre and Rhysand had shown them the dining room beforehand, and Aelin had of course taken careful notice of everything around them as they had. Something told her that despite their invitation to explore the grounds as they wished, she did not want to accidently stumble upon something she shouldn’t.
Upon arriving at the Dining Room, Aelin and the Terrasen Court had been greated by Rhysand and Feyre, who had politely inquired after whether their rooms were to their liking and that if they should need anything, to not hesitate to request it.
They were all sat at a long, dark marble table which was decorated in gleaming white china and various dishes. Some, she had never heard of nor seen in all her years, others where comfortingly familiar—roasted lamb in various decadent sauces being one of her favorites. There was also an abundance of deserts: sweet toffees and lemon tarts and…oh gods.
Aelin forced a pretense of self-control at the sight of her favorite desert everywhere. Cakes, cookies, tarts, and other sweets that were foreign to her but that she was just dying to try.
The Queen of Terrasen glanced around her, appreciating the openess of the room and the way the sight of the sun slowly sinking behind those endless montains eased the tension in her shoulders. She couldn’t help but to wonder if that had been a deliberate move or not, if the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court had anticipated something that also had Aelin’s senses on high alert.
Rhysand, Feyre, and the rest of their court took their places around the table, leaving the head of it empty. No, instead all of them sat beside each other without hesitation or second thought, as if it were completely normal for the Rulers of their lands to sit beside them as—as equals.
Aelin could sense that the same thoughts were racing through Rowan’s mind as she glanced at him.
Peculiar, she said.
Indeed, the green in his eyes flashed.
She and Rowan took their place across from Feyre and Rhysand, followed by the rest of her court: Aedion sandwiched between Rowan and Lysandra, who sat by Dorian, Manon bringing up the rear.
There were three empty seats on Feyre’s side: one beside Cassian, and two more behind Mor.
“Nesta, Elaine, and Lucien should be arriving shortly,” Rhysand said, as if he’d read her mind. And perhaps he very well could, if the stories she had read about the lands and Faeries of Prythian held any truth to them.
A silence so stifling it nearly suffocated her filled the room, despite the open balcony not twenty feet away, and underneath the table Rowan grasped his mate’s hand. His thumb graced the inside of her palm, she responded with a reassuring squeeze.
Manon quietly cleared her throat—though it was so dead silent in the room she may as well have been yelling at the top of her lungs— before saying, “The food all looks and smells wonderful. And though it is not to my…preferred taste, there’s no need for it to go to waste while you all sit here and gawk at each other.”
It was such a Manon-esque thing to do that a smile graced her lips and—gods damn her. Aelin couldn’t help it, but soft laughs escaped her, soon joined by everyone else in the room.
A voice, quiet but strong, interrupted them. “What do you mean, ‘not your preferred taste’?”
Aelin glanced to the end of the table to find that the source had been Amren, the petite, short-haired and dark-eyed female that had barely spoken a word upon their arrival. There was something fierce and ancient…otherworldly, in her eyes, which were dead set on Manon, whom sat across from her.
The Ironteeth witch responded with a wicked smile and replied, “I usually prefer to eat my meals fresh.”
Something changed in the eyes of the small woman who seemed to pulse with an extraoridnary power as she said, “So do I.”
Aelin tore her eyes away from the exchange to gauge everyone else’s reaction. For a moment, she was afraid that Feyre would be appalled. That at any moment she was going to politely, but with unabashed horror, order them to leave her Court, leave her home and her people, and never return.
But when the gold-ringed eyes of the Queen of Terrasen met those of the High Lady of the Night Court, there was amusement—not fear or revulsion—swimming in them.
A heavy, invisible weight seemed to lift off her chest, and Aelin suddenly felt it was easier to breathe. A cool, gentle breeze that felt like fingertips caressed her cheek. Rowan, she realized.
She looked over to find him faintly smiling at her.
I told you I would try not to be so…overbearing. I meant what I said. I truly am sorry.
She smirked. Oh, believe me, I had no doubts that your apology was sincere.
His eyes flashed dangerously, and something told her that if it were not for their little audience…if not for the people gathered around them Rowan would be on her in second. Have her sprawled out on the table before them and take her on it, again and again and again until she was screaming his name.
Aelin would use every inch of her body, would do such sinful things to him that her name would come from the Fae Prince’s lips like a prayer—
A slight flush had crept up her neck and into her cheeks and she was suddenly very grateful for the cool breeze Rowan continued to manipulate so that she slowly cooled down.
Taking this as an opportunity to rile him, Aelin innocently placed her hand on Rowan’s knee.
The Fae Prince immediately stiffened, his shoulders tense and body strung as tight as a bow.
Aelin’s hand slowly inched up, up, up, squeezing gently every once in a while until she was dangerously close to a very private and quite sensitive part of Rowan. His hand clasped over hers to stop her advance, but it was too late. It was now profoundly apparent that his wanton thoughts had matched her own.
Her fingertips grazed his upper thigh, and Aelin could have sworn that he had been about to moan and quickly covered it up with a cough before taking a sip of water.
“So Feyre,” Aelin attempted at making polite conversation. She and Feyre and Rhysand discussed many lighthearted topics: from dancing to music to food and the differences and similarities that Prythian and Erilea possessed. Rowan was quiet, as usual, but he did interject to share his own opinion or to add on to what Aelin had said.
It was going well, Cassian, Mor, Dorian, Lysandra, and Aedion were all gossipping and sharing interests a bit farther down. And though Aelin wasn’t sure what Manon and Amren were discussing, they, too were in deep conversation.
And then came the topic of magic.
“I remember reading about magic here in Prythian,” Dorian said, taking another bite of roast lamb. He swallowed and drank deeply from his cup before continuing, “It’s rumored that the magic you all possess is quite different from the magic in Erilea.”
Feyre replied that she, too, had heard the same. So that left only one thing to do.
Aelin had only smiled devilishly and said, “Let’s see if the rumors are true, then.”
They had decided to take this outside where, should anything go wrong, they were far enough away from the palace and from people to cause any serious harm.
Rhysand was in the middle of explaining, as best he could, about the different aspects and qualities of the powers they possessed. By the Wyrd, it was all so fascinating!
Aelin held back a gasp as one moment, there was absolutely nothing in Feyre’s hands and then the next, she was holding a single, sweet-smelling flower. The way she beamed at him and the look in his eyes would have been enough to melt the heart of even the most stoic, cold-hearted creature…Rowan included.
“Amazing,” Dorian breathed, and Aelin couldn’t help chuckling at the child-like wonder alight on his face and in those deep blue eyes of his.
Feyre stepped forward on her own, the flower disappearing just as suddenly as it had came, and moments later, tiny creatures made wholly of water were running about the open field, nipping at their feet and chasing each other around…puppies.
Lysandra laughed as one ran right through Aedion’s legs, nearly knocking him straight on his ass.
He glared at her. “Not funny, Lys.”
And then they all rose high in the sky until they were no more than little dots before they burst, and thousands of tiny droplets came rushing at them. But the rain quickly turned to snow, and it fell delicately around them.
Rhysand’s gaze whipped to Feyre at the same moment that Aelin’s went to Rowan. Feyre shrugged, but answered the silent question in her mate’s eyes by saying, “That wasn’t me.”
But Aelin knew whom the snow had came from, and as more fell from the sky, a gentle breeze mixed with it, causing the snow to dance and swirl all around them.
It was breath-taking, and she wasn’t sure what had sparked him to demonstrate such a public display of affection as the snow swirled into an image. It came together slowly, piece by piece.
It looked like a man…and a woman. Together.
The Queen of Terrasen glanced at her mate, her carranam, and took the silent signal.
She reached deep inside her, awakening her fire and forging it to meld with Rowan’s wind and ice. The two of them together created something wholly different…it was like two dancers that had finally found each other, like finding the perfect notes and welding them until they forged a melody so alluring, all stopped to hear it.
Aelin wasn’t sure what the other’s reactions were for her eyes were locked with bright green ones. And in them she read every emotion he wouldn’t dare say aloud.