#I FORGOT THE RIVER WAS THAT WIDE AND THERE'S THAT MANY BRIDGES.......

[whoslaurapalmer]

best friend and I are thinking about visiting some museums so I've been looking at the one that's one state over (one of the closest) and look. I have never been to a museum. but it's so big!!!!!!!!!!! they have so many things!!!!!!!!!!!!!! so many galleries, so much art!!!!!!!!!!!! they have!!!! a restaurant!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am so intrigued. I am so overwhelmed. we must go!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[voraciousvore]

Candy and the Beanstalk

I wanted to write something light and silly and fluffy, since I've been writing so many dreadfully dark stories lately, so I put my OCs Candy Caramello and Martin Maneater into a classic beanstalk story. No actual vore in this one, just cute g/t fluff and some mild sfw romance. Enjoy (I hope)! :3

Word Count: 3.9k

They came from the sky, draped in remnants of clouds. Nobody knew how, or whence, or what they were, other than the fact that they vaguely resembled beans—beans with an exotic iridescent sheen, pulsing with a rainbow parade of luminescence. Upon their initial discovery, in a fallow dirt field, they drew considerable attention and curiosity. As obvious magical objects, they fetched a high price among buyers eager to discover their secrets. 

Unfortunately, these buyers were soon disappointed to find that their fortunes had been wasted. Not a single person could get the beans to grow, nor could they extract any magical properties. The kaleidoscope of lights that displayed on their smooth surfaces gradually faded to a dull, lackluster brownish green, just like any other bean, with only the occasional spark of light to betray their original appearance. The mysterious beans from the sky soon faded into obscurity as people lost interest, deemed nothing more than a hoax or scam. 

Out in the countryside, far away from the hustle and bustle of major townships, lived a humble peasant girl by the name of Candy Caramello. She was a very sweet and pretty girl, blessed with lovely blue eyes and long blonde hair, but she was also as dumb as a box of rocks. She lived with her parents on the family farm and worked as a milkmaid, with big milkers of her own to match. Regrettably, she wasn’t good for much else beyond the simplest tasks, especially with how clumsy and accident-prone she tended to be, so her parents didn’t have high hopes for her. She spent her days daydreaming about boys as she milked the cows and fed the animals. 

One day, one of the older cows stopped producing milk. Candy brought this unfortunate news up to her mother. “Mom, the cow’s broken. Her udder’s all shriveled up.” 

“Well, the cow’s of no use to us anymore. Take it to the market to sell it for its meat and hide,” her mother ordered. 

“Really? Me?” Candy replied with surprise, twirling strands of her lustrous golden hair around her fingers. She usually wasn’t assigned much responsibility. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? She’s bound it muck it up,” her father whispered. Mrs. Caramello shushed him and sent her daughter on her way. 

“She’s got to learn eventually,” her mom sighed, once she was out of earshot. “We can’t treat her like a baby forever.” 

Candy skipped along the dirt path to town, excited for a new adventure as she led the cow by a rope. Her blue eyes sparkled with joy as she beheld the scenery: undulating fields of grain, majestic old oak trees, fresh green grass, fluffy white clouds glowing with sunshine. She walked over a stone bridge and watched fish dart around in the sparkling waters of the river below. The cow impatiently pulled on the rope to hurry her along. 

She entered the market, and was immediately distracted by all the new sights and sounds and people. Stalls lined the streets bursting with fruits and vegetables, colorful textiles, hand-crafted goods, and a wide array of exotic baubles and trinkets. Candy forgot about selling the cow as she browsed goods that she had no money to buy. 

“Hey, you! Wench!” a gravelly voice called from the entrance to a dark, deserted alley off to the side. 

“Hmmm?” Candy turned her head and walked toward the sketchy area, oblivious to the potential danger. 

“Is that cow for sale? How much?” the voice rasped. A shadowy figure, cloaked in midnight blue garments, crept out of the shade from the brick walls that hemmed in both sides of the narrow passage. He was a lean, tall man with a sickly mien. 

“Ummm… what’s your best offer?” Candy inquired. She had no idea how much she was supposed to sell the cow for. 

“I have something that might interest you…” A gnarled hand emerged from the folds of the cloak, holding a small drawstring bag full of small lumps. “Magic beans!” He opened the bag and pulled out a bean to show her. To Candy’s amazement, the bean flickered with light. 

“Magic?” Candy’s eyes gleamed. “What do they do?” 

The mysterious individual hesitated, as if not anticipating the question. “Uh… they’ll make you rich! Fabulously rich!” Candy looked at the stranger blankly. Money was fine and dandy, but not what her heart truly desired. Sensing her apathy, he changed tactics. “Or… they’ll help you find true love!” 

Candy, being the hopeless romantic that she was, lit up. “Really? All that for a cow? Why? How?” 

“Erm, don’t worry about that. Just, uh… follow your heart and look to the heavens and you’ll have your answer!” 

Candy agreed to the deal, and traded the cow for the beans. As she left, the stranger muttered under his breath, too quiet to hear, “What a fool… those beans are useless…” 

On her way home, Candy pawed through the bag and examined the beans. None of them had that special spark or sheen that she witnessed earlier, but she wasn’t deterred. She believed in the magic with all her heart. She couldn’t wait to plant them and see what would happen. Would they bloom with fantastic buds, opening to reveal a handsome prince? She nearly squealed with joy at the thought. She entered her cottage home just as the sun was beginning to set, bathing the landscape in orange twilight. 

“Mom, Dad, look what I got for the cow!” Candy proclaimed, holding up the sack of beans triumphantly in her hand. 

“What’s that? Gold coins?” Mr. Caramello asked. 

“No, even better! I got beans! Magic beans!” Candy poured the beans into her hand so they could see. Her parents stared dumbly at the dull pile. 

“Please… tell me you’re joking,” her mother uttered in disbelief. Candy gave a slight shake of her head, clueless. “Candy, you clod! You traded an entire cow for a handful of beans?” 

She snatched all the beans out of Candy’s hand and threw them out the window. “Empty-headed simpleton! You got scammed! You wasted a perfectly good cow!” 

“I told you this would happen,” her father muttered. Mrs. Caramello elbowed him hard in the side, making him grunt. Candy hung her head, dejected. She wanted to shrivel into the floorboards and disappear. She tried her hardest to please her folks, but somehow she always messed everything up. Her best was never good enough for them. She fought back tears. 

“Ugh, just get out of my sight,” her mother said with a disgusted wave of her hand. Candy turned around with a despondent slouch and obeyed, dragging her feet out the door.   

“Don’t you think you’re being too hard on her, dear?” Mr. Caramello murmured, once Candy was out of earshot. “She can’t help it that she’s so stupid.” 

“I’m just sick of her being such an airhead! She needs to get her head out of the clouds and grow up!” Mrs. Caramello spat back with frustration. 

Outside, Candy walked over to the beans scattered in the soil and plopped down on her knees. Sniffling, she scooped the beans up into her hands with some crumbs of dirt and gazed down at them sadly. They didn’t glow, stubbornly insisting on remaining a bland monochrome green. She poked her fingers in the dirt and scooped out a hole, then planted the beans and tucked them in with a pat of her hands. She kept her hands in place, sitting in the dirt as the sun sank below the horizon, quenching its fire into the earth. Her remaining energy died with the light. 

With a laborious sigh, Candy went back inside the house, avoiding her parents and laying down in her bed to sleep. A trickle of melancholy dribbled into her core as she huddled on her side and stared at the wall. She was desperate to please; at the end of the day, she just wanted to be loved and held. She wanted a caring man, big and warm, to wrap his arms around her and tell her that she wasn’t useless. She wanted to feel precious and special, beloved and cherished, rather than being such a worthless disappointment. Candy shivered, pulling the bedsheets up to her chin, and fell asleep. 

Little did she know that the beans, hidden beneath layers of earth, were radiating multicolored flashes. They had awakened from their long-dormant state with a burst of fire. Candy’s sweet touch had brought them to life. Like Arthur pulling Excalibur from the stone, Candy had something special that the magical beans patiently sought.  

While she slept, a fresh green sprout emerged from the ground and reached for the sky, twisting and looping in a rapid ascension. Tendrils swirled in spirals and springs around each other as they lengthened and expanded in scale. Leaves grew from tender buds into magnificent foliage large enough to lay on like a mattress. The stalk thickened and swelled, transforming from a thin vine to a pillar to a massive verdant structure, broader and taller than the biggest redwood trees. 

Candy woke up early, as was her habit, to let out the chickens and milk the cows. When she walked out the door into a dark shadow, she turned around to behold the gigantic beanstalk towering above her, above the house and surrounding countryside, impossibly tall, so high up that she couldn’t even see the top as it disappeared into the cloud layer. She stood there and gaped in astonishment, not believing her eyes. She wondered if she was still dreaming as she slowly stepped up to the plant and placed her palm on its glorious green surface. It was real. The magic was real. 

She craned her head back to gaze up into the sky. The words of the bean seller popped into her head. Follow your heart and look to the heavens. When she initially heard those words, she thought he meant to pray for divine intervention, or have faith or strength of spirit. Now, however, the words took on a whole new meaning. Clearly, she was supposed to literally ascend to the sky, via the magical bridge created expressly for her. 

The task before her was daunting, but Candy was firm with resolve. She dreamed, in her most honeyed fantasies, of finding true love. The ceaseless desire burned in her so strongly that she feared she would turn to ash if it were not satiated. She didn’t know what could possibly be in the sky that would aid her in her quest, but she was determined to find out. She took a deep breath to steady herself before beginning her journey. She gripped a coiled vine in her hand and started to climb. 

At first, scaling the beanstalk was fun, reminiscent of a joyful childhood climbing trees. As the time stretched on, though, Candy’s optimism waned and her muscles began to ache. The labor became arduous. As the atmosphere thinned with the great height, the air chilled and the wind bit through her light clothes. The verdurous shoots of the beanstalk were soft and feathery in some parts, hard and sharp in others, digging into the skin on her hands. Whenever she grew weary, she rested on one of the many giant leaves. She didn’t want to stay in one place for too long, though, since she still had a long way to climb. 

Candy considered giving up, but at some point she realized it would be just as hard to return to the ground far below. The distance was dizzying; Candy was just grateful she wasn’t afraid of heights. The beanstalk occasionally swayed in the breeze, making her cling with a death grip to the leafy vines until the stalk steadied again. When she needed a distraction, she admired the view. She could see for miles around. The farmland below, from such a grand height, looked flat, since none of the objects below could compare to the colossal twisting tower. 

Candy entered the cloud layer, where the air was moist and frigid. The initial wisps of cloud thickened into heavy white puffs that produced dark shade. Candy was tempted to curl up when the cold ice particles surrounded her, and her hands met crusts of ice on the foliage, but she forced herself to continue. Finally, she emerged from the cloud layer, back into the brilliant sunshine. 

Her eyes just about boggled out of her head when she surveyed the cloudscape around her. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t an entire alternate world up in the clouds. There were trees, and flowers, and a garden, and even a charming cottage close by. Candy cautiously tested the surface of the clouds and was surprised to find them pleasantly firm beneath her feet, like solid earth. She hopped off the beanstalk, stretched her weary arms, and headed towards the nearby cottage. 

She immediately discerned that something was amiss as she grasped the true nature of her surroundings. The grass was tall, easily as tall as she was, and the flowers towered over her head. The trees stretched up into infinity, their branches and leaves fading into the blinding mist higher up. Candy gawked over a fallen acorn as big around as a barrel of ale as she walked past it. The cottage at first glance appeared close, since it was such an immense building, but was actually quite far away.  

Candy faltered as she recognized just how shockingly huge everything was, especially the house. Who could possibly be large enough to inhabit such a vast structure? Fear flooded her heart, yet her curiosity and desire ultimately won out. She believed in the magic of the beans, even more so as she beheld such impossible, remarkable sights. She felt, in her heart, she was destined to come here—as the bean seller had promised her, to find love. 

She cautiously approached the cottage, marveling at the inconceivable scale of it all. Up close, the house was so large that she couldn’t take it all in at once. She stumbled over some pits in the ground, failing to notice that the ridges taken as a whole formed a giant bootprint. She reached the door, which stretched hundreds of feet above her head, and gazed up at it in wonder. There was no way she’d be able to open it on her own, but she was small enough to crawl underneath it, through the gap between the door and the floor. She slipped inside, her heart racing. 

The inside of the domicile would be rather average-looking, if not for the size. Candy found herself on a huge, scratchy welcome mat that nearly matched the square footage of her cow barn back home. She stepped over the threshold and onto a boundless stone floor. As she walked forward, with her diminutive shoes clicking on the stone, a tremendous masculine voice boomed from somewhere inside the house. 

“FE!” 

Candy stopped dead in her tracks at the enormous voice. The loud sound was followed up by a substantial thud, then another, and another, which Candy recognized as the rhythm of giant footsteps. 

“FI!” 

The steps rapidly approached, nearly knocking Candy over with how much they vibrated the floor. Her heart jumped into her throat. Logically, she knew she ought to run, but she was petrified in place. 

“FO!” 

The source of the disruption made his appearance, rounding a doorframe into the room. He was a giant man, hundreds of feet tall, with stormy gray eyes, short dark hair, and a sturdy build. He thundered toward little Candy, who was too stunned to move. 

“FUM!” 

His boot slammed down next to her. At her height, she wasn’t even tall enough to reach his ankle. He kneeled down, looming over her. 

“I smell the blood of an Englishman!”  

Candy gasped as a gigantic hand, with fingers thicker and longer than her entire body, overshadowed her. She finally snapped out of her paralytic state and turned to run, but she had no chance of escape as the fingers closed around her in a fist. She watched the floor drop away below as she was lifted up to the giant’s face so he could get a better look at her. 

“Er... Englishwoman,” the giant corrected himself, once he was able to see her closer. Candy gazed up at his huge face, into his soft gray eyes. He had a prominent nose, full lips, and a forest of stubble around his mouth and chin. Other than his size, he didn’t look menacing or evil. As a matter of fact, Candy found him to be strikingly handsome. Perhaps even the most handsome man she had ever seen—the kind she fantasized about all day while she milked the cows, when she imagined her perfect man. 

“Hmmm, I’m in the mood for a sandwich,” the giant rumbled to himself, standing up with the tiny woman in his fist. Candy wasn’t really listening to what he was saying. She was spellbound. She felt her face warm up with him so close, so huge, all around her. His fingers wrapped around her body as warmly as she pictured the arms of her fictional lover last night. Was this the man she was supposed to meet? Her true love? Sure, he was enormous, and not quite what she had expected, but true love conquers all, right? 

The giant, oblivious to her thoughts, got out some slices of bread, meat, cheese, lettuce, tomato, and condiments, and started prepping his sandwich. Humans weren’t common up in the sky, and he hadn’t eaten one in a long time, so he was looking forward to a rare treat. He thought it odd that she wasn’t struggling in his fist or pleading for her life, as humans normally did when he threatened to eat them. Maybe she was too frightened. She was shaking a bit, after all. 

Candy rested her elbows on his finger and held her chin in her hands with a dreamy gaze. “What’s your name?” she asked. 

The giant was confused by the question, and her placid demeanor, but dutifully replied, “Martin. Martin Maneater.” He paused midway through spreading sauce on his bread. “What about you?” Why am I asking this girl her name, when I’m just going to eat her anyway? To be polite? 

She giggled, her face flushing at the attention. “Oh, I’m Candy. Candy Caramello! It’s lovely to meet you!” Martin blinked, increasingly baffled as he looked down at her. She wasn’t afraid of him at all. In fact, she had a rapturous look that was enthusiastic enough to make him blush. A woman had never looked at him quite like that before. And gosh, she was pretty cute too… just his type: blonde, blue-eyed, busty, and completely adorable. 

“Um…” Martin suddenly found himself tongue-tied. What was wrong with him? He was supposed to eat her, not fawn over her! And yet… and yet… his heart was singing in his chest with a thrumming rapid enough to make him lightheaded. He abandoned his sandwich and sat down in a chair at the dining room table, loosening his grip on the little lady since she apparently wasn’t going to bolt. 

With his mind drawing a blank, he asked the first question that popped into his head. “How did you get here, Candy?”  

“Oh! I planted some magic beans and climbed a giant beanstalk! It was amazing!!” Candy chirped as she twisted a strand of golden hair around her finger. She caressed Martin’s giant finger with her other hand, reveling in how warm and soft his skin felt on hers. Martin blushed again at the physical contact. He liked it more than he cared to admit. 

“Ah, the beans… that makes sense…” Martin muttered. “They only grow for special people, you know…” 

“Is that so?” Candy said in a seductive tone, batting her eyes at him. Martin’s heart jumped as she twirled playfully in his loose fingers. 

“Y-yeah… they only grow for a human of exceptional stock, one that is… especially tasty.” The giant raised a brow, curious to see how the woman would take this information. 

She didn’t skip a beat. “Awww, so you think I’m tasty?” Candy flirted with a wink. The literal meaning of his words seemed to be lost on her. Martin couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“I’m sure you are,” he teased back, running his tongue over his lips.  

Candy’s eyes lingered on his lips longer than he felt comfortable, as he felt himself drooling over her scent. “The bean seller told me I could find true love with the magic of the beans!” she blurted out. Martin raised his eyebrows with surprise.  

“Oh! Uh… hmmm… that’s interesting…” Martin stammered. What was he supposed to say to that? 

“Can I kiss you?!” Candy’s abrupt intensity was shocking. 

Martin reddened. “K-kiss me?” 

“That’s how you find out if someone is your true love! You have to kiss them!” Candy insisted. “That’s how it works in the fairy tales!” 

Martin’s tongue tripped over his words as he became increasingly flustered. He was about to deny her assertion, tell her love didn’t work that way, but… her little face and body, resting in his hand, made his chest swell. He wanted to kiss her, badly. He was lonely, living in the clouds all by himself. He wanted a woman to love, to call his own, and here she was, literally sitting in the palm of his hand, begging for his affection. How could he possibly refuse? 

“O-okay. Sure. Yeah.” His heart pounded in his chest as he raised her up to his lips. He was tempted to scoop her up into his mouth, being the man-eating giant that he was, but he politely refrained and puckered his lips gently. He pressed his plush lips to her tiny body, feeling every soft curve she had to offer. She kissed him back, her touch light and soft. He could feel her excited heartbeat pulsing in her chest. He pinned her down in his palm with rising ardor as he leaned into the sensual kiss. He could even taste her incredible caramel sweetness as his tongue touched her body. She was divine. His entire body burned with a sudden fiery passion that radiated from her touch on his lips all the way down to his toes. 

He could hardly tear himself away when he finished kissing her. He craved more. She lay flat on her back in his palm, hot and slightly soggy, her cheeks red as a rose and her eyes glistening with stars. She looked like a tiny angel. 

“I-I think you’re the one, Martin,” she uttered breathlessly. “That was amazing.” 

“Mmmmm, I agree,” Martin purred, caressing her body tenderly with his finger. He couldn’t believe his luck. He leaned down for another kiss, this one short and sweet but no less passionate. “Who knew a human woman could make me feel this way...” 

Martin cupped her in his hands and took her into his living room. He reclined on the couch and relaxed, holding the tiny woman against his chest. As he drifted off for a nap, he hoped in his heart that this whole encounter wasn’t all just a dream, and the tiny woman in his hands was, in fact, real. Before he closed his eyes, he looked down at her, snuggled up in the curve of his palm on his chest, rocking slightly with every beat of his heart. She was so trusting, already fast asleep in his hand after a long and exhausting day of climbing. 

Maybe true love was real after all. 

Writing Masterpost

[westrangecollectionkoalaposts]

Reading HOFAS

CH 7, 8 9:

A large subterranean river, if the sound was this loud even up here. Bits of spray floated from the darkness, the damp air laced with a thick, metallic scent—iron. There must have been deposits of it down here.

Nesta said with equal quiet, “That bridge is the perfect place for an ambush.” Bryce turned to her in surprise. “You’ve never been down this way?” Nesta cut her a look. “No. No one has.”

How tf a place that can be accesed through the palace's dungeons has never been found before until now? This shit is at least 1400 years old.

“Who’d you piss off to get sent to retrieve me, anyway?”

it starts with r and ends with d, which also makes a group which's name starts with i and ends up with e, now the reasons? she is the only who is not kissing rice's ass

She could have sworn Nesta’s lips curved into a smile. “On a good day, too many people to count. But today … I volunteered.”

7 if you count Elain, also, if Nesta piss you off, you thank her.period

A new noise, barely audible above the rapids’ roar. Talons skittering over stone. From above and below.

that is probably just the ugly puppies from earlier, don't worry

“Hurry.” Nesta drew that plain-yet-remarkable sword. At the touch of her hand, silver flames skittered down the blade and—

So...

An enormous worm, gleaming with water and mud. A mouth full of rows of teeth opened wide and snapped

Who was the dumb fuck who put the firstbook's worm in side the hewn city's mountain, also, how the fuck nobody have ever saw that shit? or nesta said nobody knew about that bc riceman didn't know, which makes sense as he might got there for only a few hours each couple of months, yet mor was born in that city and also knows shit? then who made the bridge? somebody has to know

As the tang of more blood filled the air. Until the worm at last began sinking down, down, down. Back toward the river and wherever its lair lay below.

So there is a river inside that mountain, a river that is much probably also hewn city's water supply, were a fucking worm lives in there, and nobody knew it

Displeasure and something like disappointment filled Nesta’s pretty face as she said, “You froze out there.”

It doesn't sound like something nesta would complain, especially as she also froze in front of that water thing in the Middle

“Theia was High Queen of these lands. Before she left,”

Wasn't canon that only males could be high whatever or is this something sjm forgot or is that something like a curse on females, i think the forgot option is more probably

But Nesta began walking into the tunnel once more—not waiting for Bryce or her star to light the way. “You’ve gotten us into enough of a mess as it is,”

If someone had simply used his fucking telepath like someone with minimun inteligence, that wouldn't be happening.

“What you were born to do��to accomplish the task for which your father brought you into existence,” Apollion said before fading into nothing, leaving Aidas standing alone before the prisoners. Shock reared up in Hunt, dampened by the weight of an old, unbidden hurt. “I have no father.” Aidas shook his head. “The black crown once again circling your brow is not a new torment from the Asteri. It has existed for millennia.”

Is Hunt's father Jesus?

when Nesta lifted an arm. Silver flame wreathed her fingers. Bryce backed away a step. It echoed in Nesta’s eyes as she laid her hand on the stone wall. Silver fire rippled over the carvings. Mechanisms clicked—and misfired. Rusty metal bolts shot from the walls. Or tried to. They barely cleared the wall before they melted into dust

if that is only a small part of power she was left with, imagine her full power.

Fae kneeling before impossibly tall, robed humanoids,

avatar aliens

“Why you stumbled into our world.” Rhysand or the others must have filled Nesta in on everything before siccing her on Bryce.

i am pretty sure they didn't

“I told you earlier: We don’t know. Until you crept past the beasts, even Rhys didn’t know this tunnel existed

I think there are many rooms in the palace he isn't aware as well

Nesta asked, “Why not let me get impaled earlier? You could have let me walk right into a trap and run.”

nesta, not everyone acts like someone from ic... my poor baby

“I have no reason to want you dead.” “Yet you ran from the cell.”

of course, imagine if bryce had a exposed broken bone and instead of nesta, it was rhysand the one to show up....

“I know how interrogations tend to end.” “No one was going to torture you.”

nesta, just look at az...

Nesta’s eyes gleamed like a cat’s in the dimness.

[lindsaystravelblogs3]

Days 88-89  Monday-Tuesday  21-22 August

Monday

We were both pretty whacked from the last few days so decided to spend a restful day in the room.  We both busied ourselves with all the usual things we do, including ringing the kids, and had an easy lunch at our ‘desks’.

I decided I needed to get out for a while and had wanted to go down to the Vistula River, nearly two kilometres away.  I took my camera and binoculars in the hope of seeing some different birds and walked most of the way that our guide had taken us yesterday or the day before.  I could see the river from there and walked across the parklands to get there.  There was a huge water feature down there, with hundreds of water jets dancing up and down in tune with some music, and quite a few people were picnicking there and watching.  Part of the area was closed with some workmen making some repairs but I found an underpass to escape the busy traffic on the big dual carriageway highway and reached the river quite easily.  I couldn’t really get that close to it and almost all the birds were on the far side anyway, but I did identify about six or seven species to add to my Polish list.

I walked a couple of kilometres along the river to a huge tramway bridge with walking/cycling paths along both sides and made my way very gingerly across the wide river and back again.  The bridge is very (very) high and I found it quite frightening, but I had to do it to confirm a couple of my sightings.  One tiny bird I had seen from the bank looked a little like a White Wagtail at two hundred plus metres away (it just flashed momentarily across my binoculars while I was focussing on a Gull) and I went right across the river and saw it on the rocks immediately below my shaking knees.  Worth it?  Maybe, but I really didn’t need the adrenalin!

Once back on the original side of the bridge, I took quite a convoluted path over a hill and back to the parklands, seeing a couple more birds and passing a cordoned-off area with many active beehives in it.  From the signage, I think it may have been part of a scientific research or government project of some sort, but I don’t read Polish so I am really not sure – but there were plenty of bees there anyway.

Back at our room, I was again locked out because the code had been changed again.  Fortunately, Heather heard me banging violently on the door and came out to open the door from the inside where no code was required.  We asked the people at the other hostel associated with our hotel to arrange for it to be fixed – and in due course they did so.  We did a few puzzles together – we have done very few this trip, mainly because we have been woken early most mornings so that we can be ready for the day’s activities and it would be nice to have a few days to just lie in and loll about without trying to fit in with other people’s timings.

We went out to dinner at a restaurant around the corner and when we got back, the code had been fixed and we were able to get into our room again.

Tuesday. So endeth our Warsaw sojourn.

We were in our room for most of the day, reading, writing and sorting/editing photos, as well as packing ready to leave well before dawn tomorrow.

We had booked a food tour for 3 pm and had to meet our guide a bit over a kilometre away so walked up there around 2:30.  I decided not to take my backpack with my heavy camera, but forgot that my spare hearing aid batteries were in the backpack.  Sure enough, a few minutes before we met our guide, my aid warned me that the battery was dying so I rushed back to our room to get a replacement - only to find I was locked out again - for the fourth time.  We think the cleaners assume we are leaving each day and reset the locks when they leave.

By now, I was late for the tour, but I called in at the hostel near us and told them about the problem and the guy there said he would look at it while we were doing the tour.  I raced back to our meeting place to find our small group waiting, but in no hurry to head off.  The rest of the group was just two young Austrian 'madchens' and an older American guy and after us all chatting in the sun for fifteen minutes or more, we set off to our first tasting a couple of hundred metres away.  Our guide took us on a slightly circuitous route and pointed out a few more interesting features and historical perspectives along the way.

We started with a tasty soup in a hollowed-out bread bun, with some delicious potato pancakes to follow.  We sat and chatted over a drink or two before walking to a very pretty little restaurant in a narrow alley.  Our guide had plenty more interesting comments about things we passed (or detoured to pass) - he was very knowledgeable and had fascinating stories to tell every few steps.   We had four different types of pierogis at this restaurant and lots more chat.   The American guy was a lot of fun and had his own stories to tell, including some about Polish history because he has a PhD in European History (I think).   Our final stop was at a restaurant just under our window - and that was to sample a couple of local vodkas, very delicious they were too!

The tour and the food was all very traditional, especially the second stop in the alleyway. It was in an old house or apartment with tires of flowpots and bright flowers all around the door and beautifully-worked wall hangings and more flowers inside. This is apparently the way many Polish families arrange and decorate their homes and it quite delighted me. The whole effect was very homely and comfortable, even if the pierogis aren't our most favourite food.

We broke up the party about 9pm because we still had to do a few things ready for the next morning and we thought we may still be locked out of our room.  Fortunately, we weren’t!  The guy from the hostel up the road must have sorted it out and we were able to get in without difficulty and ready ourselves for tomorrow’s trek.   (I looked out the window an hour later and noted that our fellow foodies were still sitting at the restaurant.)

[themalice-ofalex]

My Favorite Moment of Chu Wanning

I just wanna share an excerpt from 2ha - a small scene, not really relevant to the plot but to Chu Wanning's own character. It's my most favorite scene of him and I think it really defined him the most.

After reading this part, it stayed with me always and would randomly appear in my mind. I don't think a lot of readers remember this part which understandable because 2ha is very long with many arcs and many more memorable moments.

And I just want to share one of my favorite moments of Chu Wanning.

also, not gonna lie, i even forgot which chapter this was in and had to look back on the chapters and arcs which i thought were in

And so, on the first day of Yuheng Elder's confinement, all three of his got the runs from food poisoning. On the second day, Jielu Elder sought out Chu Wanning and tactfully conveyed that Mengpo Hall had no need for extra helpers, and to please go sweep the fallen leaves and wipe the pillars at Naihe Bridge instead. Naihe Bridge connected the main areas of Sisheng Peak with the disciples' living quarters, wide enough for five horse carriages to pass through side by side. It was a majestic structure, with nine beasts of white jade representing the nine sons of the dragon atop its main pillars, and three hundred and sixty low pillars decorated with lion heads. Chu Wanning quietly swept the ground, then set about diligently wiping down the jade beasts. The task took most of the day. As the sky started getting dark, it began to rain. Most of the disciples returning from their classes didn't have umbrellas, squawking as they scampered through water puddles on the ground. Drops of rain pitter-pattered on the stone steps. Chu Wanning glanced at the disciples in the distance, the young boys and girls were drenched through and through but the smiles on their faces were bright and carefree. "......" Chu Wanning knew that those smiles would vanish the moment they saw him; he looked around, and went to stand under the bridge. The disciples who ran ahead and arrived at the bridge first couldn't help uttering "eh?" as they took in the sight before them. "A barrier?" "Why is there a barrier over Naihe Bridge?" "It was probably set up by Xuanji Elder." One of the disciples guessed, "Xuanji Elder is always nice to us." The translucent golden barrier covered Naihe Bridge, extending all the way to the main walkway of the disciples' quarters, sheltering them from the rain the rest of the way. "This is definitely Xuanji Elder's work, he's in charge of the area right?" "Xuanji Elder is the best." "What a pretty barrier, Xuanji Elder is incredible." The disciples shook the water out of their dripping hair, shoving playfully at one another and laughing as they ducked under the barrier and continued towards their quarters, chattering the whole way. Chu Wanning stood under the bridge, listening as the commotion above passed by, until everything became quiet once more, before slowly putting away the barrier and leisurely walking out. "Shizun." He was surprised to hear someone calling for him. Chu Wanning looked up abruptly, but there was no one on the shore. "I'm over here." Following the voice, he saw Mo Ran sitting sideways on the white jade bridge, dressed in the customary silver-blue light armor of the sect, a leg draped lazily over the edge. The youth had striking features, eyelashes long and thick like a little pair of fans hanging over his eyes. He held an oil paper umbrella, and almost seemed to be smiling, yet also not, as he gazed at Chu Wanning. One on the bridge, leaves rustling in the wind; one under the bridge, rain splashing in the river. For a moment, neither spoke, both simply looking at the other. The misty rain blurred the line between heaven and earth almost poignantly. Fallen bamboo leaves drifted between the two of them now and again, carried by the wind. Finally, Mo Ran laughed and said teasingly: "Xuanji Elder, you're getting drenched." Chu Wanning spoke at nearly the same time, coldly: "How did you know it was me?" Mo Ran pressed his lips together, dimples deep and eyes curved in a smile: "A barrier this big is beyond Xuanji Elder, right? Who else could it be but Shizun?" Chu Wanning: "......" Mo Ran knew that he couldn't be bothered to put up a barrier for himself, but an idea popped into his head, and he tossed the umbrella over. "I'll give this to you, catch." The bright red paper umbrella drifted slowly down. Chu Wanning caught it. The glossy, jade-green bamboo handle still held a remainder of warmth, droplets of rain sliding along the top of the umbrella and sparkling as they fell. Chu Wanning looked up at him: "Then what about you?" Mo Ran grinned deviously: "Won't I get back

perfectly fine if Shizun just uses a little spell?" Chu Wanning let out a hmph, but his hand waved lightly in his sleeve nevertheless, a translucent golden barrier spreading out immediately above Mo Ran. He looked up and laughed: "Haha, how pretty, it's even got peony patterns. Thanks." Chu Wanning shot him a look: "Those are haitang flowers, only five petals." Then he left, white robes under a scarlet umbrella, leaving Mo Ran in the rain to count the flower petals by himself: "One, two, three, four, five......ah, it really does only have five petals......" When he looked back up, Chu Wanning had already walked far away.

- Excerpt from Chapter 31: This Venerable One's Uncle, from the translation of Rynn and Suika

I just love how Chu Wanning silently covers up the disciples and let them think that it's Xuanji Elder because it shows how kind he is and how he doesn't care if his kindness is overlooked because he's not expecting a reward, he just wants to be kind and protect the other people (that part of him is also shown in his first introduction- when it is shown that Chu Wanning was the only one who cared to fix the barrier of the ghost realm when it is said that fixing the barrier didn't help you with getting stronger or helping grow your cultivation.)

He is very much aware how the disciples think about him thus hiding under the bridge and I want to say that this doesn't affect him but it does. It affects his self-esteem and the way he thinks about himself.

And goddamn, I just wanna shower that character with love and affections but I can't. That's why ranwan's interaction there at the end was also meaningful to both me and Chu Wanning because even though ranwan doesn't realize it yet, Mo Ran loves Chu Wanning and wants protect him as well.

ksjdhfldfh sorry for ranting. i'm just overwhelmed with feelings for this well-written character that is called chu wanning 😭😭

[dontjudgemeimawriter]

Excerpt-- Martel Bridge

Wanted to share another excerpt. I’ve shared lines from this before, but it’s a sweet scene so I thought I’d share the rest of it. I think at some point I shared an excerpt where Raymond & Terran were playing two truths & a lie? This takes place directly after that if I did.

--

“Want to go up the bridge?” Raymond asked, interrupting my thoughts. He gestured ahead of us, where the Martel Bridge had come into view. 

Martel Bridge was a huge bridge that crossed the Sarala [River]. I’d been so occupied looking around that I hadn’t noticed it, and for a moment I paused. I’d never seen it from this angle before. Usually if I came close to it, I’d walked through Violet, where the slight incline was hardly no--ticeable. But the path we were on stayed close to the shoreline, and far ahead I could see that we’d end up passing under it.

“Go up it?”

“Yeah, there’s a passenger walkway and you can climb up the tower,” he gestured along the bridge, though I couldn’t tell exactly what he was pointing at. 

He went ahead, starting to jog while still looking back at me, flashing me a daring smile and I forgot about looking around for spies but just focused on catching up to him. I broke into a run, and it’d been a long time since running was thrilling. When he saw me catching up he ran faster, and I sped up, catching up to him but still a bit behind him when he slowed to a stop as the shadow of the bridge came over us. 

“Why are you running?” I asked when I’d caught up close for him to hear, but rather than answering, he laughed and went over to the door that was partially propped open, with a label that informatively read “Martel.” The door bounced off of him, close enough for me to catch, and he’d slowed down but was still ahead of me, leading me into the dimly lit metal stairway that led up a flight before opening onto another door. 

This time when it opened there was a howl of engines, and I paused for a second to look at where we were— a walkway set slightly lower than the road, with metal floors and a grate on one side to keep us from falling to to beach below. A railing and half wall kept us from being directly next to the cars racing by, but for a second when one raced by and I felt the air hit me, I tensed up for a moment.

“Come on!” Raymond called, and he kept moving, still itching to run, and his footsteps made the metal floor clang, and I took a step and placed a hand on the grate that kept me from falling, looking through the spaces in the metal to see the river. “Terran!” He’d stopped moving, still a good ten feet ahead of me. This time, he waited for me to catch up, saying something I didn’t catch as another car raced past us.

“What?” I said when I’d caught up to him.

“Scared of the bridge, assassin?”

I shook my head, and it was too hard to really reply, but it wasn’t the bridge that slowed me down. It wasn’t even really the cars a few feet away on one side or the fall the grate protected me from. I’d climbed rooftops, after all.

“Where are we going?” I asked, and he turned around and pointed at the first tower that rose above us, with a part that reached out and connected to the second tower. I knew that the road part that we were approaching could be raised if tall boats needed to pass through. I’d never thought much about the top of the towers.

“The pedestrian bridge,” he called, and then kept moving, not running but not waiting for me, and then there was another door where the tower connected and inside it it was dark and quiet again and more mental stairs led up, and I could tilt my head back and see that they circled the edges for five rounds up.

“This is more stairs than I expected to climb today,” I said, and Raymond was already halfway around, and he paused to let me catch up.

“How many stairs did you expect to climb today?” he asked with a grin.

“I wasn't even going to leave the room this morning,” I responded.

“Still think it’s too dangerous?” he was grinning, his hand resting on the railing one foot on a higher step than the other, but now that I was within a few feet of him again and he wasn't running away, I could hear how fast he was breathing.

That made me smile a bit, because yes I’d slowed down a bit, but despite him staying ahead of me and my comment about the stairs, it’d hardly winded me. “Well, I guess no one’s going to catch us together here,” I said, looking at the walls surrounding us, thinking about how loud of a clang the steps made that would tell us quickly if anyone was coming. 

I felt his hand touch my arm and turned back to him, and for a second he looked like he wanted to say something. He was a step taller than me, and I didn't usually have to look up towards him but I was, and I saw when he decided against whatever he’d wanted to say and withdrew his hand from my arm, and he shifted his weight to the foot on the higher step and he was farther away from me.

“What?” I asked, and couldn't help but feel like I had once again ruined his happy moment, somehow.

He smiled. “I like you better. Unfocused. That’s all.”

And now I had to pay attention to it again, to how I was acting and if I might be missing something, and what about my comment made him say that because honestly it sounded to me like the same type of paranoid comment he hated. “Why?”

He grinned, his eyes crinkling up in almost-laughter. “Because of this, because it’s more fun, because we aren’t fighting or even worrying about everything.”

He was still happy but the comment seemed to twist something, to pull at my own having-fun. “Focusing isn’t why I worry about things,” and I was obviously still worried about things, anyway, so what did he mean? “Do you just not like me telling you what to do?” 

It had come out before I could stop myself, and I could feel it, the snapping, the arguing, the fighting back, and then Raymond reached a hand toward me again— my face, my shoulder, I wasn’t sure— but I jerked away from it on instinct. His face flashed in hurt, and I’d messed up again. He’d reached toward me for comfort, of course he had. 

“Sorry,” I took a deep breath. 

He nodded. “Thanks.” he didn’t meet my eye for a moment, then asked, “Should I not try to touch you?”

My wincing had been my fault, not his.  “It’s fine.”

“Is it actually?” he asked, concern in his voice.

I paused. I owed it to him to answer it honestly, and why had I winced? “I don’t know why I reacted like that,” I said after a moment. “But you can.”

He nodded and gave me a smile, but it was less genuine than it had been a minute ago. “I don’t like when you tell me what to do,” he said thoughtfully. “But even if you are, I prefer it to come from this Terran. The one that isn’t just thinking about survival, but… I think… might want to be happy.”

How was I supposed to respond to that? When had wanting to be happy come into the equation? 

I tried to figure out something to say for a minute, but Raymond broke the silence. “Let’s keep going,” he said, and started climbing, not running this time. I kept pace with him, climbing the winding stairs until we came to a doorway that led out onto the open bridge.

It was empty and the wind was louder here, rushing around us and chilly. A wide stone walkway with brick half-walls that Raymond walk over to and leaned on, and I joined him, leaning on it next to him. Looking out was the river, far below us now, stretching out back along the way we’d walked until it curved in the distance,

I looked down for the bridge below us, but could hardly see the edge of it— the angle we were looking was too steep, the bridge we stood on blocking the view down and the tower we’d climbed blocking the view back, cutting off our view of any connection to the land.

The city was visible though, and I was so used to being in it that for a moment it looked foreign. The stone beaches and boardwalk, the docks with various boats. Inland the buildings began to pile up, getting taller and becoming more box-like. From here I could see an expanse of roofs I’m sure I’d traversed at some point.

“Nice, huh?” Raymond said as I took it in.

“It actually looks pretty,” I said, not sure why I was surprised until Raymond voiced my exact feelings:

“Can’t see the corruption from here, huh?”

I nodded, looking around again, once again trying to get an angle where I could see the part of the bridge that would bring us back to the land. “It’s like we’re cut off from it.”

Raymond took a deep breath, one that I knew how it felt just by how deep it was, and he closed his eyes for a moment in relaxation. I took a moment to breathe in myself, taking in the faintly water-scented air and letting it settle deep within me. 

And for a moment I let myself imagine it. Leaving Calson. Leaving the syndicate, leaving Zachary. As if the syndicate really was confined to that city. As if I were really on an island floating over the ocean, that there wasn’t actually a bridge between us anyone could cross. 

I looked over at Raymond. If only we could leave. 

His eyes were still closed, but his relaxation hadn’t seemed to stick. His breathing was shallower now, and his hands gripped the edge of the brick wall tightly. 

Was something wrong, or was he just tense? Might just be everything that had been going on— maybe he was still hurt I’d snapped at him, maybe he was still unsure about trusting me, maybe it was because he hadn’t slept, maybe it was because Jodi was still missing. 

I reached to him, placed an arm on his shoulders the way he might, moving closer to him in a sideways half-hug. His arms relaxed as I gave him a squeeze, and he leaned into me, leaving his head on my shoulder, and I’d successfully offered comfort.

I couldn’t think of what to say, though— I still wasn’t good at this— so instead I went with something that I hoped would distract him a bit. “I don’t like the taste of walnuts, strawberries, or cilantro. Which is the lie?”

He took a breath before answering, a slight laugh. “I guess it is your turn. Do you have the it-tastes-like-soap thing?”

I didn’t answer, but he didn’t expect me to. While he thought, making a low “hmmm” sound, I gently patted my hand against his shoulder. Had he ever been this close to me, this much physical contact? I’d initiated it this time, and he’d leaned into it, and I thought about his question earlier about touch and how much I’d used to see him and Mika hugging and wondered if it was different because it was his sister or different because it was me. 

“Strawberries,” he said, leaning his head to look at me.

I smiled, feeling like I’d won. “Nope. I like walnuts. Only if they’re roasted, though.”

“And you don’t like strawberries?” He grinned. I shook my head and he accepted it. “Should’ve known you like walnuts. You love coffee.”

“Why is that related?” I asked, moving my hand up from his shoulder to the side of his head, cautiously, ready to stop if he didn’t want me to, but he seemed to accept it and I touched his hair, the side of his face— soft, warm, comfortable.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Aren’t nuts and coffee related? Are nuts put in coffee?”

I thought it over, remembering the labels in Zachary’s cupboard. I didn’t usually pay much attention to which one it was, Zachary usually made enough for me to have in the morning. “I don’t think so, just flavors.”

He grinned and took a deep breath, gazing out at the cityscape. I lifted my arm to check my watch— 4:52. Only about an hour left of the 24 hour agreement, and I wanted it to last another day, another week. To stay here, where it at least felt like no one could find us. 

“Terran?” his voice was quiet, hardly audible over the sound of the wind, and I may not have heard it if his head wasn’t still so close to me.

“What?”

He’d tensed up again, I could feel it. He took a deep breath before speaking, and when he did I could hear that he was afraid. “I think they know I’m alive.”

--

Taglist: @puzzleddragon02 @sleepy-night-child @drippingmoon @thegreatobsesso @thelaughingstag

[tinyyoungblood]

midnight in prague | tom holland

summary: you play MJ in far from home and when filming gets too stressful, you and tom sneak off from set to explore the city of prague at night while also talking about the idea of running away together

pairing: tom holland x actress!reader

word count: 1.9 k

warnings: a bit angsty but mainly fluff, one (1) violent metaphor, language 

a/n: i highly recommend listening to the song, it’s absolutely beautiful, sets the mood and inspired this story. used some of the lyrics as dialogue. enjoy! 

song/inspo: Canada (ft. Alessia Cara) by Lauv

↳ masterlist

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“That’s a wrap, guys!” The crew cheered weakly, lacking the usual enthusiasm. Not moving from your spot, you meekly pumped your fist in the air in mute joy. To say you were exhausted wasn’t just an understatement, it was a big truck that rammed and then dragged you through the empty streets of Prague. You’ve been up since 9 am and the enormous clock, that had surely become the focal point for everybody, almost signaled three hours after midnight.

Your scene partner was even more drained than you. Tom was barely twitching a limb—only a hollow shell, containing the last remains of his wiped-out energy.

With his head rested on yours, you believed he was dead asleep and lightly poked his side to wake him up. But he only reached out and held your hand in a loose grip, arms dangling between your bodies. “I’m awake,” he murmured, and you were sure he was talking in his sleep.

“Tommy, wake up,” you said gently and wrapped your arms around his torso, letting him engulf you in a warm hug but he didn't budge, “You’re compressing my brain, Tom.”

Slowly, he lifted his head, eyes fluttering open to scan your face but only a second later did he realize that insomnia had caused him to believe your teasing for once. You couldn’t help but pout at the prominent exhaustion on his face. Footsteps on cobblestone and the movement of heavy filming gadgets made up your surroundings but you focused solely on Tom and the guilty look on his face. No words were needed for you to know that he was still sorry for something that he had no control over.

It wasn’t his fault that the weather conditions pushed the night shootings back and it certainly wasn’t his fault that cars were constantly driving over the bridge that you were filming at, forcing you to quickly jump to the side, only to shuffle right back to restart the scene.

But this was Prague and he was Tom. Much like his character, he had thoroughly planned a romantic trip for both of you and after weeks of gushing about it, he was sure he could make it work but something would always come up and push his plans into hopelessness.

At this point, he had accepted his fate but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t sad every time he looked at you and mad every time somebody said “action”. He loved his job and was forever grateful but for fuck’s sake, was it too much to ask for to spend some alone time with his girlfriend?

Just when he was about to open his mouth to apologize to you, you locked his lips with yours and he melted into the kiss, tense shoulders dropping. Releasing his lips with a soft plop, he sighed with a small smile, but his eyes still held sadness. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that the others were already walking toward the van to drive back to the hotel to fall into a restless sleep, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let Tom go to bed like this.

Your mind flicked to back home where you had naively envisioned your trip to Europe to be completely different—free and without a care in the world. You knew you were here for work, but you didn’t expect to have this many obligations that added to the constant pressure of having to deliver the perfect scenes. The world was counting on you to not fuck this up.

You sighed and looked down at the river. The water reflected the vibrant yellow streetlights and brought you a sense of much-needed peace and tranquillity. Tom watched you curiously as your eyes marveled at the scenery.

Your head whipped back to him and now you were beaming at him, a glimpse of mischief dancing in your eyes. “Let’s get out of here.” Tom blankly stared at you and blinked to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “What?”

“I’m saying,” you dragged out and let go of his torso to swing his arms excitedly from side to side, he squeezed your hand, “this is our last night in Prague! We’ve been looking forward to this for the longest time, do you really want to miss it? Come on, we can sleep on the plane tomorrow. Let’s be carefree for once.” Your soul was fueled with sparkling joy and you forgot about your exhaustion. “Let’s be free.”

Tom took a second to contemplate your words before a wide grin broke out on his face and he nodded eagerly, surrendering to bliss. “God, I’m obsessed with your brain sometimes.”

With your hand still in his, you pulled him with you, excitement shimmering. Crossing the Charles Bridge, the two of you slipped away and entered the night you had dreamed of.

Golden lanterns on the side of the houses marked hidden but absolutely breathtaking alleys and for the first time on this trip, it was quiet and serene. Your eyes couldn’t stop darting everywhere, taking it all in with the deepest admiration. It was like you were falling in love with the whole world.

You had a bounce to your step and Tom couldn’t contain his bubbly feelings at the sight of you. He didn’t really understand what switch of yours was suddenly flicked for your spirits to fly this high, but he didn’t need to. He missed spending time with you. Back in the States, both of your schedules were packed and barely allowed a fleeting glimpse but now, the girl of his dreams was buzzing with happiness while the streetlights highlighted her glowing face and he’d be damned if he wouldn’t treasure every moment.

The darkness made the town appear like a secret fairytale village with its colorful houses and narrow passages. Your soft chatter lingered in the warm summer air and every time a giggle left your lips Tom’s heart filled with more love for you, warming him from within. With his adoring gaze, he spun you around. Your dress flying up and you stretched your arms upward, enjoying the carefreeness with a broad smile. You felt like you were floating, feet barely touching the ground as the both of you were dancing to no music.

Drunk with happiness, both of you laughed as Tom pressed your back against a wall. With his hands caressing your hips and your foreheads pressed against each other, your heart throbbed with profound joy, something you haven’t felt in a while.

Adrenaline and happiness consumed you, so much of it that you nearly forgot to breathe but you didn’t need to as Tom’s lips were already on yours. You pushed off the wall, sealing the tiny space between you and he deepened the kiss. Your heart almost broke with joy. Pulling apart, it left you breathless again and you were certain nothing could ever wipe off the stupid grin on your faces.

Arms swinging, the two of you continued your fairytale walk and ended up at the Charles bridge again where you had started off the night. Still high on emotions, Tom pulled you with him as he swung his legs over the rim of the bridge and gestured for you to follow. You didn’t hesitate and sat next to him, legs dangling over the river. You rested your head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around your small frame as you overlooked the sight in front of you.

Your voice was delicate as you spoke, cautioning into the silence, “I really needed this. It's almost like I've been stuck at home forever.” Tom was playing with strands of your hair and you knew he was deep in thoughts.

Again, you watched the dancing streetlights reflection on the water surface but this time it didn’t bring you peace. You had your night and that was all you wanted. So why did you feel a pinch of sadness at the simple thought of heading to the hotel, settling into your bed and calling it a night. You didn’t want this night to end and you knew Tom also dreaded having to end this feeling.

So the question he asked next wasn’t a surprise to you in the slightest—it resonated with you.

“What if we move to Canada?”

He sounded hopeful. Musing about taking on the world in a different way than you both already did but he knew you two were in no position to be bold and just not give a damn. It was neither in his nor your power to be selfish. A sudden breeze left goosebumps on your exposed skin, but he dreamingly gazed at you with vulnerable eyes and you let yourself dream with him.

“We could bring Tessa,” you voiced, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “And your paintbrush and some candy,” Tom added, and awe transformed your face, eyes lighting up.

“I guess we’re lucky that we don’t need much outside of us, do we?” You chuckled softly and he shook his head with a sad smile on his face. He took your hand in his and started to play with your fingers, eyes looking heavenward. For the first time tonight, you noticed the endless stars sparkling from above.

“You know, when we film those movies...” He licked his lips and your gaze darted to his hesitant face. You weren’t sure if tears were brimming his eyes or if they reflected the deep water but they were glistening and you squeezed his hand to remind him that you were there. “...When they talk about those people in the movies who up and leave, I always think about how that could be us.”

He looked down at you, hands tightening around yours and now you were sure those were tears shimmering in his eyes. “That could be you and me.”

You didn’t answer and he didn’t need you to.

Both of you knew this wasn’t the heat of the moment talking. ‘Let’s get away from here and do our own thing’ wasn’t an option for any of you. Your thing was acting, you loved it from the bottom of your heart, and you wouldn’t be completed without that passion in your life and Tom—Tom was Spider-Man. Arguably one of the most recognizable cinematic characters in the world. Besides the fact that he couldn’t just quit, he didn’t want to either.

This was the life that you both chose. Unforgettable memories, unconditional support and overwhelming opportunities. There were also hours of press tours, draining interviews and nerve-wracking red carpets.

Your heart rate picked up at the single thought of it all but if tonight had taught you anything, it had taught you something deeply beautiful. Amid the chaos and pressure, amid the glamour and blessings, all you needed in the end was Tom by your side. He was the reason why you soared your highest heights and he was your support system when you plunged to the deepest depths. Gratitude flowed through you.

Leaning forward, you pressed a soft kiss on his cheek, letting it linger for a moment before you nuzzled your head back into the crook of his neck—brown eyes never leaving you. He returned the gesture by leaving a gentle kiss on top of your head, before resting his own on yours, pressing you closer into his body with a content sigh.

We are lucky that we don't need much outside of us.

* * *

wrote this at 5 am so it might be extra cheesy but i’m still too sleep-deprived to tell lol. i appreciate the hell out of feedback so feel free to leave me some and if you don’t, that’s okay too. thank u for reading, buh-bye! x

masterlist

[sheadre]

Aurora Borealis (Jiang Cheng x Reader) Part Two

Summary: Zhu Ran'En (Reader) the imperial princess, was sent into exile for a crime she did not commit. Meeting Jiang Wanyin, the Yunmeng Jiang sect's leader was not just a chance meeting. Their fates were written in the stars however, her relations to the royal family will never let her live in peace. How will she manage to save the kingdom while trying to keep Jiang Wanyin away from the snakes of the royal family?

Word count: 3281

Warnings: this story contains violence, blood, mindgames, scheming, angst, romance, fluff with Jiang Cheng, awkward flirting.

A/N: If you liked this story, please like and comment or reblog! You may find this story on quotev.com/Vaeri or on ao3. Please check out my other works in the Mo Dao Zu Shi fandom! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!＜（＾－＾）＞

You sat in silence as you sipped on your tea with your face ordered into nonchalance. You got used to having to wear a neutral mask around people in the palace and it was a habit that couldn’t be easily left behind. Your (e/c) eyes looked the sect leader over who was eying you with suspicion. He was handsome as was told by many in the kingdom, his features chiseled and strong, his body lean and tall. You already had time to check him out when you first encountered him but a second glance couldn’t hurt, now could it?

If you would still be a part of the court, your father would definitely try and engage you to Jiang Wanyin. Your father always wished for a strong son-in-law who could protect his daughter. And this time, you wouldn’t protest.

“Imperial guards are asking about your highness all around the other towns in this region” Jiang Wanyin spoke up with a scowl. “You are already spending your time in exile.”

“My dear cousin wishes to secure her place in the court and fears that I will take action” you shrugged. “Not that she is wrong.”

“Your highness, are you planning something?” Jiang Wanyin grumbled, his eyes sparkling with lightning. “I warn you, there will be innocent people caught in the middle of your war against whoever offended you in the court. I’m here for them.”

“And I tell you that those innocent people might all be wiped out if you try and restrain me from taking action. Do you even know why I’m here?” you narrowed your eyes at him, your fingernails rattling against the wooden surface of the small table. It seemed Jiang Wanyin failed to dig deeper than the rumors going on around about the case, his light blush of embarrassment was indicating that. You sighed heavily and picked up the kettle to refill your cups while taking a breath to continue: “I caught my cousin and uncle, the second prince talking about money embezzlement and money laundering. They realized their mistake and now I’m here. To simply put it…”

“There is something more to that if your highness seems to be in such a distressed state” the sect leader noted calmly his eyebrows still furrowed. You wondered if anything would make him smile in his life. You imagined him smiling and hid the picture in the back of your mind. He would give a magnificent sight for sure.

“I advise you to not interfere with my plans… if a commoner like you get caught in the war of the royal family, what do you think might become your future?” you asked. Sitting back down, you pulled your hands in your lap but held his stare.

“Those kind of wars always end up being the public’s demise. Are you planning on sacrificing innocent people?” Jiang Wanyin asked back lifting his chin and you could tell that he was already determined in getting involved.

“I plan to earn the emperor’s favor again” you replied not wanting to argue anymore with him. There was no point, you could just leave him out of everything. You didn’t need his help nor wanted it. He had no idea of the monsters ruling the kingdom and how many people would be devoured by them. You got reminded of the hard times in the palace you spent with cornering people, avoiding corrupt ministers’ hands grabbing onto your sleeves so they could get you involved in their shady businesses. Your cousin always tried to get you in trouble so you would get executed but to her misfortune you were too smart.

“By starting a war?!” Jiang Cheng gritted his teeth angrily.

“Starting one?!” you jumped to your feet from anger. Of course, the sect leader wouldn’t know about anything of your plans but his nosiness annoyed you. “I’m going to end the rebellion the war generals of Wu, Yan and Jin are planning!”

“Rebellion?” his jaw went slack. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms in front of your chest with a huff.

“If you were sharp enough to notice the imperial guards roaming the area, you should’ve rather noticed the brewing war under our feet” you noted as you sat back down. You didn’t really care about the fact that he left out your title by now. You were convinced that you didn’t need his help but… maybe you were wrong and should consider accepting his hand if he would offer. You had no army, Jiang Wanyin had, you had no connection to the other sects, he had. Then you started massaging the bridge of your nose continuing: “Forgive me for my words… I did not mean to be so harsh, it is only frustrating me so much that I know what awaits us if my cousin and uncle wins. The emperor is old and sickly, everyone is already preparing for the coronation of Crown Prince… however, without me looking out for his highness, I have no idea if he will live long enough to become emperor.”

Silence stretched between you two, him staring you down while you sipped on your tea with the perfect mask of calm. It was quite easy to pull it on by now. You were already planning your next move as you sat there. Perhaps, Jiang Wanyin could be a key character in your heroic story, you just needed to pull the strings in the right way… but that was quite hard.

“Your highness, I am only here to warn you” Jiang Cheng spoke up suddenly and stood up then. “Do not sacrifice innocent people.” His eyes were spitting lightning at you from where he stood before Jiang Cheng turned around and stormed out of the mansion. You smiled at his lack of manners, his temper reminded you of a friend you left in the palace. You wondered how Xiao Pei was doing now that he was by himself. He got a high rank in the military but everyone knew of your good relations. He was like a little brother to you.

You knew that Jiang Wanyin will come back to you in the near future. The news about a rebellion of the three small counties was spreading. Wu, Yan and Jin generals had authority over the three counties closest to where Yunmeng was located. Yunmeng would be the first to meet their united armies once the generals would advance towards the capital. However, you had much to do in the meantime. With a smirk you went back to your study and rolled out a blank parchment.

Jiang Cheng’s PoV.

Jiang sect leader was furious by the way the princess was acting. There was a war brewing under their feet and she was only adamant on getting her place back at the palace. Her position was more important to her than anything else! She was just like the other royals, sacrificing innocent people for wealth and power. He felt foolish for hoping that maybe Zhu Ran’En was different and was rebelling to stop injustice. He was wrong.

For a second he hoped that she was different, that she was using the dark ways of cultivation because she needed to. However, the evil glint in her eyes told him otherwise. Arriving back to Yunmeng gave him a feeling of calm and tranquility. As the days passed, he easily forgot about the princess, work piling up. He spent nights figuring out the financials and counting how much money they needed for the replacements of training dummies and other supplies. Wei Wuxian showed up with his… husband, Hanguang-Jun and was annoying Jiang Cheng to the point he was sporting a massive headache.

“Ah, Jiang Cheng! I heard you went after the Dark Princess!” Wei Ying burst into the study with a large excited grin on his face. Wanyin was already starting to massage his temples but had yet to yell at his brother. “Is she as pretty as the rumors say?! How was she?!”

“Why are you so excited suddenly, ay?” Wanyin asked back as he put down the brush knowing that he won’t be doing any more progress today. “Have you got tired of Hanguang-Jun?”

“Wha-?! Why are you saying such things, Jiang Cheng?!” Wei Wuxian leaned forward right into Jiang Cheng’s face with a scrutinizing gaze before his face lit up like he found the problem for world peace. “Are you being defensive because you like her?!”

“Wha-?! Why would I like her?!” Wanyin jumped up to his feet with his fists trembling by his sides. “She’s evil and vicious! She’s not pretty at all! Just one of the pampered princesses only caring about wealth!”

“Did you get rejected by her?” Wei Ying narrowed his eyes in thought as he tried to guess. “That is why you’re so sour, Jiang Cheng?”

“Who is sour?! Huh?!” Wanyin felt like jumping out of his skin. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to strangle his brother or run away and never look back until he found peace. Lately that term seemed to not exist. People were always finding him for something. A broken practice dummy here, a young disciple in need of a practice sword because the one he had was lost to the river or broken. Was it really such a luxurious request to just be left alone for a while?

What irked the sect leader even more was the fact that Wei Wuxian was not the first person to ask him about the matters of marriage. The elders expressed their concern of a sect heir because other men in his age was already married with at least two children. It wasn’t about him not having any interest in the matter but he was just too busy to think about it. He had no time to court anyone and he refused to just marry a woman he never met before.

“Wei Ying” came suddenly Hanguang-Jun’s quiet voice and just like an obedient pet, Wei Wuxian turned to his husband with a wide smile on his face and hurried over to the entering cultivator. At least, Hanguang-Jun still had manners and bowed to Jiang Cheng upon entering the study. “It is time we leave Jiang sect leader to his duties and do not bother him longer. We have to take care of those ghosts in Chongyang.”

“Alright…” the Yiling Patriarch sighed deflating at the lost chance to annoy his brother further. Jiang Wanyin walked his guests out to the pier with prayers to the heavens for helping him out. His thoughts then turned back to Zhu Ran’En. What was she planning? She was so sure about her success it was giving him chills. She was definitely an enemy he didn’t want to make.

At Chongyang:

The city was quiet. The people were all acting scared and worried, lines were forming on their forehead the second they spotted someone unfamiliar. Fog was encasing the whole city, vendors closed their shops and went to somewhere safe. The small inn which welcomed Hanguang-Jun and Wei Wuxian with reluctance was close to the middle of the city. Wei Wuxian tried to ask around about the sightings of the ghosts but got short replies of the same kind. All of the people were talking about the grey clothed ghosts or corpses who roamed the city at night and killed those who stepped foot on the streets. A few men mentioned that it all started after the appearance of a man in the clothes of the royal officials. No one knew what the man was doing in the city or if he was still around.

It all sounded suspicious to him. So Hanguang-Jun and Wei Ying decided to stay at the inn and see what happens at night. Wei Wuxian sat with his back to his husband’s chest when his ears suddenly perked up at the sound of an erhu. He jumped up and went to the window not caring about his state of clothing. He scanned the area with his eyes narrowed and soon spotted a dark figure standing on the rooftop of the building forty chi distance far from his position. The delicate figure of a woman was sitting on the rooftop with an erhu in her lap. A cold calmness was surrounding her as the wind blew her long dark hair.

“Lan Zhan, look” he mumbled while his husband walked up behind him.

“Resentful energy” Hanguang-Jun said with a low voice.

“Mnn” Wei Wuxian nodded and pulled his robes tighter around himself fixing it before grabbing Chenqing. “Let’s check it out!”

Your PoV.

The city was quiet as the sun disappeared behind the horizon. You always loved to watch life go by under your feet when you observed the world from the rooftop of a building. It was calming, like you weren’t a part of the world and could disappear from sight to watch everything happen without actually taking part in anything. You sat there in silence as the sky turned dark and the stars appeared. The fog around the city only obscured the vision of the starry night sky from those who stood below. However, you could easily admire the beauty of the night. Then you heard it. Otherworldly grunts and moans coming from below.

Liu Minister, who visited the city a few days ago and whom you should’ve met here disappeared when the animated corpses started roaming the city at night. The minister – who was your good ally – sent letter to you about someone following him since he left the Imperial palace in the capital. Pulling out your erhu from your back, you smiled mischievously while you hummed a tune. A tune you learnt from your mother. 恶梦È mèng (Wicked Dream) was the song your mother taught you when her family was accused of treason and got executed. After that, your mother lost the favor of the emperor and was the laughing stock of the people in court. The night you found her dead body, you heard those notes coming from her quarters. You promised yourself to find her killer because even if she was ashamed, even if she lost the favor of the emperor, she would’ve never committed suicide.

The notes were flying in the air as you played. Resentful energy surrounding you before black mist circled the animated corpses and closed around them. You were curious if the culprit would show themselves if you annoyed them with binding the corpses together. Your ears then perked up and before the two newcomers could land on the rooftop you were sitting on, you jumped over to another one.

“Ah, I remember you!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed with a large grin on his face. “You’re the lady who gave up the table for us!”

“Ahaha, nice seeing you again, Young master” you smiled at him.

“You’re using resentful energy” Hanguang-Jun stated but his tone was not scolding. There was no warning in his words, just a simple statement, an observation. You expected a different reception when you thought about meeting this pair again.

“What can this humble one do?” you asked, shrugging your shoulders with a pout. “This is the only way for me to cultivate.”

“Don’t you have a golden core, Imperial Princess?” the Yiling Patriarch asked then. Your smile widened before you let out a mirthful laugh. He was smarter than you thought he was. If he would be your opponent at court, you would have fun for sure.

“A princess is taught to learn embroidery and etiquette, Wei gōngzǐ” you replied squinting your eyes before turning to the corpses. “Don’t you find it interesting that these appear once a minister disappears? Hmn?”

You were well aware of him noticing how you changed the subject but it seemed he decided not to object to it. It was clear you weren’t his enemy which in your opinion was based on where he was standing when your plans were executed. Opinions and interests can change in a matter of time after all. Then you heard clapping from down below. Tap. Tap. Tap-tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap. It was repeated once more before the corpses broke out of your energy shield. Their angry moans and grunts could be heard as they approached the buildings you were standing on. Soon, screaming was heard from the house and you saw that it was the house of a merchant.

You stamped your foot on the tiles which broke under the force and a hole opened up under you. You landed inside the bedroom of the frightened merchant and his wife who were hiding behind the over turned table. The corpses stumbled inside toppling over each other but you were quick enough the cut them off before they could get to the pair. Hanguang-Jun and Wei Wuxian was soon following you through the hole and before you had to say anything, Lan Wangji grabbed the husband and wife and took them to safety. Unleashing your full power felt like you opened the gate of a dam. Yet it felt even more liberating when the Yiling Patriarch followed you in tow.

You saw the grin spreading on his lips and knew that he felt the same thing. This burst of power was enough to decapitate all the corpses in close proximity. You hurried downstairs and went out to the street to be faced with more animated corpses. Your sword was a simple sword but was your trusted ally in battles by now. It shimmered in the light of the few lampions placed above the street. Otherwise, the fog made it hard to see further than one chǐ. (That’s like half a meter)

You heard someone whistle with the wind from the distance. You cursed under your breath knowing that the culprit was already too far for you to catch up.

“Lan Zhan went after him” Wei Wuxian spoke up from behind you suddenly. Then you heard the dull thud of corpses falling to the ground. The puppet master was too far to control the corpses.

“He’s too far by now…” you sighed with your eyebrows furrowed.

“Your Highness seems to be upset” he noted stepping closer to you.

“The Minister who visited the city before the corpses appeared…” you started staring at the ground as the fog dissolved around you. “He is a good man but I think he is dead by now or at least the culprit took him with themselves.”

“You are familiar with the minister, aren’t you, Your Highness?” he asked.

“Stop calling me that, Wei gongzi” you shook your head with a sad smile. “I no longer possess the title, not officially.”

“The man got away” Hanguang-Jun spoke up once he landed in front of the two of you. “But he tried to obscure my vision with this.” He lifted his hand with a handkerchief in it. Your eyes widened and quickly approached him taking it from his outstretched hand. The fabric was one of the most expensive materials, only the imperial palace had access to something of the kind. It was a pearly white with the symbol of the Huang house.

“That dirty pip-squeak! Cui!*” you spat angrily as your hand curled into a fist with the handkerchief between your fingers.

“I assume your highness is troubled over the matter” Wei Wuxian quipped curiosity shining in his eyes. You turned around and started walking towards the other direction as you said.

“This is an Imperial matter, please stay out of trouble” your voice rang through the street even when the fog already swallowed you. “This is way too dangerous for those who do not belong to the court.”

To be continued…

*Cuì=啐 is a sound for spitting.

[dudeandduchess]

Kyōjurō x F!S/O, and Ran: Orihime and Hikoboshi (Family Fluff, SFW Scenario)

Summary: Kyōjurō and his wife take their daughter to the Tanabata, and while there Kyō tells Ran all about the story behind the festival— while, of course, embellishing a few details. After all, it was for the sake of entertaining the brightest star in the Flame Hashira’s life.

Note: I had baby fever, so this was inevitable. 😂 Also, here are two amazing art pieces of Ran which were drawn by @captain-roomba 🥰 I love them so much and were high key my inspirations for writing this.

If you bbys have any Ran art or anything like that, please don’t hesitate to send them my way. I love seeing them sooooo much. 🥰🍉

***

The sound of the festival being in full swing colored the mildly humid night, bringing life and excitement to the otherwise stifling setting around the youngest member of the Rengoku family.

Ran held tightly to her father’s right hand, looking up at him expectantly as he brought the hashimaki up to his mouth and took a bite out of the lukewarm— and savory— treat. “Papa, don’t eat everything!”

His daughter’s quiet outburst had Kyōjurō laughing— making a few people look over at him, before dismissing him as another one of those happy-go-lucky festival goers. He then decided to humor his little princess, stooping low enough to that he could bring the snack down to her lips. And, in a heartbeat, she took a huge bite out of the savory treat— making sure to get as much of the katsuoboshi as she could.

The four year-old’s actions had Kyōjurō’s eyes widening, as he watched his tiny and adorable daughter fit the huge bite of hashimaki in her mouth. Her cheeks even puffed up with how much she’d eaten, yet she still shot him a wide grin that could only make him chuckle.

Then, with a sigh, he tried not to eye the half eaten taiyaki that was still in Ran’s right hand— not to mention the tiny bag that hung from the crook of her arm, which still had five more of the fish-shaped sweets.

When his wife sees just how much food they got, he had no doubt that she would get mad at him again. All because he liked to spoil Ran.

In his defense, she was his little angel— so he wanted to dote on her as much as he could, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have the means to do so. If Ran wished, he could buy out all of the food stalls in the area; but he wouldn’t do that, all because of his wife (Y/n).

Kyōjurō had faced so many tough demons in his years of being a Slayer, but none of them could match up to (Y/n)— especially when she started wielding her sandal around. Once that came off, it was time to hide; that was for sure.

A chuckle bubbled free from his lips at the thought, and it had Ran looking up at him once more as she continued to chew through the food in her mouth. However, when she swallowed it, she instantly brought the taiyaki to her lips and took a bite out of it— before offering it up to Kyōjurō. “Does papa want some?”

The plastic bag that hung from the crook of her arm made a crinkling sound as it swung with her movements— hitting the top of the Flame Hashira’s knee as Ran held it up as best as she could.

“Maybe later, princess,” Kyōjurō answered with a grin, just as he finished the last of the hashimaki on the stick and tossed it into a trash bin. “Thank you.”

He didn’t miss the minute frown that briefly graced his daughter’s lips, however; and it had Kyōjurō chewing faster before swallowing what was in his mouth. And in a move that he’d done so many times before, he scooped Ran up into his arms and grinned at her.

Just as he’d intended, his little girl let out a peal of laughter that warmed his heart— tapering his grin down into a soft, satisfied smile that he didn’t even bother to hide from her.

“On second thought, can I have some? Papa’s already hungry again.” He really wasn’t hungry, but the bright expression that graced Ran’s face made the white lie worth saying in the first place.

She didn’t fail him; holding up the red bean filled pastry to his mouth, and holding it there as he took a generous bite out of it.

“Umai!” The Hashira cried out with a grin, as he held his daughter tighter— especially when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

The rest of their walk was wordless after that, filled instead with the sounds of taiko drums in the distance, as well as the quiet sounds of them going through most of the taiyaki that they’d gotten earlier.

Kyōjurō was sure of the probability that he’d stained his yukata with the red bean filling, but he paid no mind to it as he looked over his daughter’s pink one— which had the same flame patterns as his red one had— and deemed it clean enough to pass his wife’s muster later.

All they had to do at that point was to wait for her by the river— since she had to get the mini silk bags that she so adored from the merchant stalls on the other side of the bank. They had decided to split up, since there were much more people there— and it wasn’t really ideal to bring Ran to a much more crowded area.

And so, without anywhere else to sit, Kyōjurō set Ran down on the fence that lined the edge of the river— not once loosening his arms around her, and even leaning forward so he could press a kiss to the crown of her head.

“Papa?” The little girl asked softly.

In response, the Hashira pulled a little bit away from her so he could see her face beneath the dim glow of the paper lanterns above them. “Hm?”

“What’s Tanabata?”

Kyōjurō had to really stop and think about it— all while thinking if he had already told the story to Ran. But when he concluded that he had never told her the story before, he answered confidently, “Well, it’s the story of how me and your mama met.”

The little girl gasped at that, complete awe in her features; looking as if it was her father whom had hung up all of the stars in the sky just for her. It had him feeling a little out of sorts, yet extremely content as he smiled down at Ran.

“Really? How! How did you and mama meet? Please tell me, papa!”

The young man chuckled at that, then answered indulgently, “Well, back then— a long time before you were born— your mama was a princess named Orihime. She loved to weave, and it was her job to make pretty clothes for all of the gods in heaven. She would always weave by the river called Amanogawa, and she was happy for a while— until she got sad, because she felt lonely. Orihime wanted to get married and have a family, but she couldn’t do that because she didn’t have any new people to meet.”

Ran was so engrossed in the story, hanging on to her father’s every word and nodding along as Kyōjurō continued his tale.

“Then one day, Orihime’s father introduced her to me. Back then, people called me Hikoboshi; and my job was to herd cattle,” He smiled at that, then picked up the story once more, “Your mama was the most beautiful lady I’d ever seen in my life. Her smile was so warm and breathtaking, and everything about her was so perfect. So I asked her to marry me then and there.”

The Rengoku patriarch suppressed a laugh at the memory of him actually proposing marriage to (Y/n) the first time he saw her, and shook his head to clear out the memory of the humorous rejection that she had answered him with. Still, he couldn’t help but smile at the adorable way that she looked as she stuttered out her words.

“We were so happy with each other that we forgot to do our duties. Orihime stopped weaving, and Hikoboshi stopped tending to the cattle; so all of the cows were loose up in heaven. The gods didn’t like that at all, so Orihime’s father separated us,” He sighed wistfully at that, remembering his own struggles when his father-in-law tried to take (Y/n) away from him; all because of his dangerous occupation. “We couldn’t see each other, because I was put on the other side of Amanogawa— but your grandfather agreed to let me and your mama meet on the seventh day of the seventh month of every year. Only, there wasn’t a bridge to let your mama cross over to me.”

“Oh no, papa! Did you swim?” Ran sounded so troubled by it, which made Kyōjurō feel a little bad for stretching the truth as far as he did. But it was too late to take it back at that point, so he just continued, after shaking his head.

“Your mama was crying so much, that it summoned a flock of crows. And they became a bridge that let us meet every year; but when it rained, your mama and I can only look at each other— and wish that we were together.”

“But it’s different now, right? You and mama live together now! Right, papa?” There were tears building up in the corners of Ran’s eyes, which Kyōjurō made disappear by pressing butterfly kisses all over his daughter’s cheeks and forehead— as well as her eyelids, when she’d closed her eyes to will her own tears away.

“Yeah, it’s different now, because we have you,” He reassured softly, all while pulling away the tiniest bit and smiling down at Ran. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and your mama; our little Ran-chan.”

At that, Kyōjurō pulled his daughter into his arms once more; tucking her head beneath his chin and taking comfort in the way that her tiny arms hugged him in return. He’d thought that moment couldn’t have gotten any better, yet it did when he looked up and spotted his wife crossing the bridge from the other side of the river.

The smitten smile that made its way onto his lips was inevitable; all he could do was succumb to the butterflies in his stomach that fluttered up to his chest, which had his heart feeling so full of love— both for Ran and (Y/n).

And when (Y/n) smiled at him as she stood at the very middle of the bridge, the Flame Hashira found himself whispering, “I love you” right as he looked into those eyes that he loved so much.

(Y/n) couldn’t suppress her answering grin as she read her husband’s lips; watching him as he patted down their daughter’s unruly hair, while his gaze stayed right on her.

However, just as she was about to answer, the wind picked up and had her hair whip around her face— causing her to lift a hand up and tuck the unruly strands behind her left ear. And, instead of answering with a verbal reply, the young woman merely took the hand that she’d used to tidy her hair up, then pressed a kiss to her fingers before blowing it right towards her husband.

Of course, in typical Kyōjurō fashion, he pretended to catch (Y/n)’s kiss with one hand— right before pressing his own fingers to his lips.

Theirs was not a story exactly like Orihime and Hikoboshi’s, but it was something that was much better; much more intricate, and much more special since they were the ones that had tailored it, after all. And they wouldn’t have it any other way.

[pieswhump]

Whumptober 2021 #4- Do you trust me/Taken hostage

Warnings- Knife at someone’s throat, blood, gun mentions, self deprecating thoughts of the “i deserve it” variety, death mentions, pet as a nickname?

Timeline- About a month into Jeremiah’s time with the Oracles.

He's never been to one of these meetings. He knew they happened, but much like the parties, Jeremiah had never been brought along. He didn't expect to be a bodyguard for a meeting, either.

He might have gone to one if he stayed with the Cardinals. But his mission was here, a perfect spy. He didn't expect to be on the opposite side of a negotiation like this.

Andrei is across the bridge, in his business outfit. Black suit, off-white shirt, red tie, matching red gloves. On his left is Casey Woodmas, his grin sharp. His gun is under his shirt, and his hand is resting on his hip.

Behind both of them is Robin Leblanc, a mask covering their face and their hood concealing their distinctive red hair. They busy themselves with sorting through their weapons, polishing a saber to a perfect shine.

And on Andrei's right side is a man Jeremiah has never seen before.

The man has side-swept sandy-brown hair and deep, dark green eyes. Jeremiah isn't even sure if they're green, in the dim lights. His skin is pale but it looks like it was tan once, like he hasn't been out in the sun for a while. He looks angry and terrified.

Jeremiah doesn't remember him. He knows most of the Cardinals, even if they don't know him. This must be a recruit, then. He shouldn't worry about it.

He wouldn't worry about it if it weren't for the way Andrei is right by his side, a cocky smirk on his face. The man has a sweater that matches his eyes, white slacks, and white boots. Jeremiah's pretty sure he's worn something similar, before.

There's a scar on his cheek that stretches up to the bridge of his nose, hard to make out from here. It's on his right cheek, and Jeremiah gingerly reaches up to touch the matching scar on his left cheek. Across the bridge, he sees the green-eyed man do the same.

Andrei leans closer, whispers something in his ear. Something red hot and furious floods his veins. He didn't think he was a jealous person but the idea of this… of this stranger that he isn't sure if he can trust, growing so close to Andrei in his absence? The idea that Andrei forgot about him, while he was gone, or worse, abandoned him? Did Andrei replace him? They have matching scars if nothing else.

Maybe they were to be a pair when Jeremiah returns to his rightful place. And oh, does he hate that. He hates the idea that he might have to be partnered with a stranger he's never met but Andrei already loves, and he can't say no to Andrei. Jeremiah finds himself suddenly wanting to punch the man in the face, his face going warm and his hands twitching for something to grab ahold of.

Drew must sense his tension, see the way his cheeks are red with anger. They smile. "We'll be alright. It's just negotiations, no one is going to die. The medics are just in case."

The words are comforting, even if they don't understand his tension. He turns, smiling at them effortlessly. "I know, but I appreciate that anyway."

Drew smiles back, turning back to the dead space in front of them.

There are roughly twenty feet between the groups, enough to feel separate but not enough to break the crackling tension. It feels like ice underfoot. The river below is quietly flowing, the only sound around them. No one speaks.

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Max and Andrei walk forward. They meet in the middle of the bridge, exchange a terse handshake, and walk back a few steps. They stare at each other for a few seconds before Drew and Casey walk forward as well, standing at their respective sides.

The leaders and their hands, their most trusted advisors. The medics and bodyguards stay behind, but both teams know that their hands are more useful in a fight than the appointed guards.

Jeremiah and the Oracles' medic- a woman named Kennedy a few years older than Max- remain in their spaces.

He's borrowing one of Max's guns, the weight uncomfortable against his hip. He can shoot just fine- Andrei wouldn't have it any other way when he went off on this mission- but the knowledge that he might have to shoot feels strange.

The man in green stays behind with Robin- he must be the Cardinals' medic.

He doesn't listen in to the conversation, but he hears them talking distantly. This is about territory disputes if he remembers correctly. Andrei had been pushing against Oracles' territory for a while, but he's started ramping it up.

Jeremiah can see Andrei thinking, even from this distance. It's terrifying. There are so many outcomes of this event, spiraling and fracturing and there's no way to know what's going to happen.

Andrei is planning something, and he doesn't know what.

The previously quiet conversation gets louder and louder and crescendos into shouting. He looks up, eyes wide and one hand shifting to the gun holstered at his waist. Drew and Casey are shouting- not surprising, they're both hot-headed. Max is trying to calm down Drew, and Andrei just… watches.

Andrei's gaze shifts to Jeremiah, heavy but not oppressive. Something feels different about it though, and he carefully looks away, down at the ground.

He didn't wear a signifier of what side he was on- his presence at Max's side was a signal of his loyalty. Except it wasn't

Andrei could call him over and he would go back to his side, look Max straight in the eyes and watch his heart crumble and break. He would expose the tattoo on his side, a permanent marker of who he is and who he belongs to if Andrei asked him to.

He would watch Drew aim at his own heart, their green gaze glinting under the dim streetlights. He wouldn't move unless Andrei told him to. He wouldn't pull out his weapon, wouldn't dare to threaten Drew.

Then their gun would go off and Jeremiah's sweater would go sticky and wet and brilliant with blood the color of cardinal's wings. Poetic justice, maybe. He'd fade, staring into Andrei's hopefully concerned eyes. He wouldn't regret a thing. He thinks he'd deserve it, though.

Drew wouldn't cry, not in the open. They'd shove it down and make themselves tea and they'd only talk about it when Max breaks down in front of them. He isn't sure if Drew would regret shooting him or not. It's not his place to know, and he's not going to ask.

Jeremiah almost loses himself to his spiraling thoughts that fracture into countless different what-if scenarios. They're dizzying and terrifying, the knowledge that one of them (who is them? The Cardinals, his family? Or the Oracles, the ones that have kept him safe?) could die today.

The loud conversation goes silent.

There are footsteps in front of him.

He hears Kennedy inhale sharply, so he spares a glance down to his chest- his sweater is the same butterscotch yellow it's always been, the button-up underneath pristine. He's okay.

He looks up at the footsteps, and Andrei is in front of him. He can barely stop himself from reaching out.

Andrei grins, before clasping a hand over his mouth and pulling him tight against his chest.

Kennedy cries out and reaches for him, but suddenly there's something sharp and cold at his throat.

Oh.

Andrei leans down to whisper in his ear. "Do you trust me, Kelgris?"

Jeremiah barely nods, not wanting to risk the knife cutting into his neck.

Andrei's answer is practically a purr. "Good."

Andrei slowly walks back to the center of the bridge, and he's forced to walk with. Casey doesn't seem confused to see him on the opposing side- no, he looks hungry.

Max and Drew, though…

Max looks horrified. He glances down at the gun holstered at his waist, clearly not understanding why he wouldn't shoot. Drew's hands are balled into fists, their green eyes blazing with fury. They practically growl, and they look close to tackling Andrei and ripping his throat out with their teeth.

Max speaks, voice barely wavering. "Let him go."

"And what if I don't, Maxwell?"

Max wrinkles his nose at the name and briefly glances around. "I'll trade for him."

Andrei laughs, low and terrifying. It's a jolt of adrenaline in his veins, and he whimpers quietly.

"I'd assume you would, this is a hostage situation after all. What do you have to trade, my dear knight?"

Drew grabs Max's wrist, turning them around and talking in hushed tones. He can't hear a word. They both turn back around, and Max looks almost green. "I'll trade some of my territories for his safety."

Andrei starts, the blade of the knife slipping against Jeremiah's neck. He feels a few trickles of blood slide down, staining his shirt.

"How much?"

Max pauses for a brief second. "A half-mile inside the western border, a mile long."

Andrei hums before the knife digs in just slightly, hot blood running down his throat. Jeremiah inhales, eyes going wide. There are bursts of pain radiating out, and he feels tears forming.

"Not good enough."

Max's eyes widen. "What?"

"I said, not good enough. What about Cross street?"

Jeremiah winces. Cross street- the Oracles' main source of income. Two gambling halls, a few restaurants, and a couple of ethical brothels.

Drew explodes at Max's side. "Cross street? Like hell we'd hand that over to you!"

"Hm, guess you don't care very much for little Kelgris."

Jeremiah takes in a sharp breath, and he can feel the world cracking and falling apart at the seams. No, this isn't supposed to be happening. They aren't supposed to know.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the man in green startle. Max's expression shifts, his eyebrows furrowing. Drew doesn't seem to notice what he might have just revealed, but they don't know Andrei the way Max does.

Some part of him is thrilled that he didn't mess up. He wasn't the one to bring it all crashing down, it isn't his fault. But the rest of him knows he'll be blamed anyway.

Max's voice is slow and brimming with anger. "Kelgris."

Andrei pauses, half a second and all the time in the world. "Well, that's clearly what he is. A perfect pet."

Jeremiah stops. Is… is that what his nickname means? Andrei had never told him what Kelgris had meant, had only ruffled his hair and told him it was hard to translate. He always said it with such affection, Jeremiah had started ranking it among names like darling and sweetheart. A harmless pet name.

He smiles slightly. Ha. Pet name.

Besides, it's not like it makes a difference. Andrei cares for him- it doesn't matter what his nickname means. He says it fondly. It's okay if his nickname means… it's okay if it means something that sends twisting dread into his stomach. Andrei likes it, and Jeremiah likes the way the word sounds.

Now he just has to ignore the definition of it.

Max stares Andrei down, barely concealed anger written in every tense limb. "A restaurant and a brothel, on Cross street. We won't change the branding so people will still go there, but all the profits will be sent to the Cardinals."

Andrei tilts his head, thinking. The knife digs in just a slight bit more, bursts of hot blood running down from the slice. Jeremiah doesn't dare to breathe more than a few shallow breaths.

"Fine."

It's less than he would've normally settled for, but Andrei didn't want to hurt him, did he?

The knife leaves his throat and there's a rough hand at his back propelling him forward. Jeremiah lets himself be pushed, pushed towards comfort and safety and the closest thing to a home he has.

Drew catches him in their arms before pulling them towards Kennedy. Her eyes are wide and concerned as she inspects the injury.

Jeremiah pulls himself away slightly, turning just in time to see the man in green set his jaw and walk forward towards Jeremiah.

Max's eyes widen with something he can't discern. Drew looks shocked but not surprised, staring at the man but not with fear.

But it's nothing compared to the fury he sees sparking in Andrei's expression, the red hot anger that makes him instinctively shy away against Kennedy's chest.

He stops a few feet away, and he can see him closer now. Freckles are dusting his cheeks, just barely there. His hair is brittle and fragile, and his eyes are a deep and dark green. He looks… he looks concerned.

The man in green's voice is rough and almost a bit choked. "Are you okay?"

He doesn't like the man in green, but he doesn't want to see him hurt. And the expression on Andrei's face has never meant anything other than pain, for Jeremiah.

He weighs responding, realizing that it'll be better to be polite. It'll look good, on both sides.

"I'll be fine"

He dissolves into coughs after. He doesn't feel fine, blood still steadily trickling down his throat. But it's true- he will be fine, eventually.

"Good."

Before he can wrap his head around the brief conversation, the man in green silently walks straight back to Andrei's side. Andrei claps a hand over the back of his neck, before giving Max a sickly sweet smile. "I will see you soon to arrange our agreement, my dear knight."

Max bristles, but then the Cardinals turn tail together and walk away.

The man in green does not look back.

[jianghuchild]

Lovers' Day

The tortoise shell split open with a series of firecracker popping noises. A’Lian stoked the fire, then returned the poker to its stand. She turned to her sister.

“What does it mean?”

A’Qing bit on the stub of her thumbnail. She tilted her head this way and that, golden hairpins swaying in the light. She was nearly formless, red dress rippling around her and jewelry flickering.

“It’s coming,” A’Qing replied. Her eyes roved over the cracks in the shell. “In four days, on the seventh day of the seventh month, the stars will gather like magpies.” Her mouth twisted wryly. “Lovers’ day.”

“A bridge, then.”

“Yes.”

“How will I find him?”

A’Qing gestured to the fire tongs. A’Lian hefted them and reached into the fireplace. She clamped down on the tortoise shell and pulled it out, balancing it in the air carefully. Her forearms strained with the effort. A’Qing examined the cracks.

“The bridge will lead you. Once you find him, you’ll be able to pull him out.” A’Qing ran her jagged thumbnail across her lower lip. “You might need something.”

--

They crouched over the cardboard box, one of many in the upstairs closet-turned-storage space. This particular box was labelled Betrothal Gifts in square, Chinese script. A’Lian still remembered the way her parents glowed.

A good man, they’d beamed. He’s sure to take care of you.

The night before the wedding, A’Qing had come sobbing into her lap. A’Lian had stroked her hair and told her it would be alright, that she wasn’t leaving their family, only joining a larger one. Now, A’Lian wanted to smack herself.

After that day by the river, A’Lian had nearly thrown the whole lot into the fire. A’Qing talked her out of it.

“That should do.” A’Qing pointed at a thin box. A’Lian opened it. It was a golden, phoenix-shaped hairpin, identical to the one A’Qing wore now. “Something to guide you to each other.”

A’Lian took the hairpin. She shut the box and shoved it into the back of the closet. Her stomach roiled. She leaned against the wall and sat down, staring at the ceiling.

“What will you do, after I’ve found him?”

A’Qing made a noise. “Are you kicking me out?”

A’Lian rolled her head to look at her sister. The wall was hard against the back of her skull. A’Qing sat primly, legs tucked in below herself and hands folded across her lap. Her wide sleeves fluttered.

A’Lian laughed dryly. “I wish.”

“Aw.” A’Qing drew her red, paper-dyed lips into a mocking pout. She hovered a hand over A’Lian’s arm. “Jiejie is so mean to me.”

A’Lian snorted. “Don’t push it.”

--

On the seventh day of the seventh month, A’Lian perched cross-legged on the dinner table. Her eyes roved beneath her closed lids. Her hands rested on her knees, thumb and middle finger touching. Her fingers twitched. The thin metal of the hairpin grew warm and slick in her palm. A’Qing’s breathless voice ghosted across the shell of A'Lian's ear, barely audible over the sound of her rushing blood.

“Is he here yet?”

“Almost,” A’Lian murmured. Stars, pinprick-bright, hung against her eyelids. The lights grew and shifted, lengthened and sprouted wings. They took off all at once, a thunder of wingbeats that drowned out A’Lian’s own roaring pulse. For several moments the space behind A’Lian’s eyelids was only a brilliant white light. She winced and wondered idly if she might go blind. It would be worth it, she thought, to see him one last time. She still remembered everything about him. A rushing river. A red wedding veil. Waking up to realize the most important person in her life was gone.

The light shrank. It twisted until its fuzzy contours resolved itself into the shape of a man. A’Lian was suddenly very aware of the pounding in her chest. The figure settled, lines and colours pouring in like strokes of an ink painting. Then it was him, really him, standing on a bridge of magpies. Her mouth went dry.

A red veil. A wedding dress. A marble-white body fished out of the river.

He was every inch the man she remembered. He blinked his beautiful, wide, beautiful eyes. His perfect brows drew together in a frown, pink lips ever so slightly parted. And he was close, close enough to touch. A’Lian peered into the distance where the bridge disappeared.

“A’Lian?” His voice trembled.

Miànxiàng hǎo, her mother always said. Yǎnshén chúnzhèng, her father would agree. Good face. Honest eyes.

“It’s me.” She smiled. “You’ve hidden yourself quite well.”

He faltered. “I… I’m sorry?”

“I looked for you all over, and I couldn’t find a single trace. If it weren’t for A’Qing, I might never have found you. ” Her smile turned sardonic. Fear flashed in his eyes. The twist of her lips was sour on her tongue. “It is lovers’ day, after all.”

“What are you—” His voice shook so badly his jaw clamped shut. He twitched, then tried again. “What are you talking about? A’Qing…”

White, frothing rapids against a jagged bank. A red veil rushing atop the current. A bloodless body in a red wedding dress. A useless police force and a runaway groom.

“Yes.” A’Lian dropped her smile into a disdainful twist. She followed the magpie bridge into the distance out of the corner of her eye. “You forgot I have spirit eyes, didn’t you? You always forgot the silliest things about people. Like how my little sister never wanted to marry you.”

A shining phoenix hairpin in dull, salt-ravaged hair. A’Lian’s own ragged crying too loud, too alive, cradling a sister too cold, too dead.

His face, such a beautiful face, twisted. His full lips contorted into an ugly sneer and his bright eyes turned cruel. “I would have done anything for her—”

“Well done,” she cut in. Her throat squeezed with the effort of trying not to shake. “I can’t say she might do the same for you.”

Miànxiàng hǎo. Yǎnshén chúnzhèng. And A’Lian would smile, and A’Qing would sigh but not speak.

“Who are you to—”

A’Lian raised an arm—both in the real world and in the ghost one—and grabbed him by the collar. She wrenched him forward, close enough to see his pupils dilate. She could see, so clearly now, where the magpie bridge met him in the real world. There was nowhere for him to hide now.

“I am my sister’s messenger,” A’Lian murmured, and smiled sharply. “Found you.”

His body solidified around her fist and she pulled, jerking out of her position on the table. She threw him to the floor. He scrambled to his hands and feet. Almost as if not by her own will, she sprang off the table and pinned him down. Her knees squeezed his sides and her hands found his throat. The hairpin wasn't in her hands anymore. She could feel its weight on her head. His fingers scrabbled at her face. A stinging pain seared across her cheek. She turned her head and bit his finger. He howled. She leaned down next to his ear.

“I won’t run,” she whispered breathlessly. “They’ll know how you died. I’m not like you.”

His legs kicked out beneath her and his nails drew blood, but she held on.

--

In the end, it didn’t look too good for her. They couldn’t prove it was premeditated. But neither did she act in self-defense or in defense of another. She had, she told them, only she was a few years late. The jury was not amused.

She sat on the edge of her bed. Her thumbnail grazed across her lower lip. Her bare feet were frigid against the metal bed frame. She watched herself from the tiny mirror above the sink. A small figure all in orange.

Well. At least it wasn’t red.

[jaskierswolf]

The Witcher’s Companion pt.2/6

(Other parts are on my pinned masterlist/AO3)

Geralt hadn’t been paying much attention to where he was going. He’d just been following the path, his last contract had paid well and if he was lucky then he would even managed to stop by the whore house next time he reached a town. It wasn’t until he heard someone shouting his name that he even realised where he was.

Lettenhove Castle.

He hadn’t been back since the fiend. He scowled as a boy came running up the path with a sword strapped to his waist and a lute on his back.

“Geralt!” The boy cried.

Geralt couldn’t stop the small smile on his face. He would recognise those bright eyes anywhere.

Julian.

He was taller than the last time Geralt had seen him, and he’d certainly filled out, but he was still a boy.

Geralt dismounted Roach and went to greet the young lad. “Julian.” He nodded.

“I can’t believe you came back!” Julian beamed up at him. “You haven’t change a bit!”

Geralt shrugged. “Didn’t mean to, and the mutations do wonders for wrinkles.”

Julian visibly deflated. “You didn’t mean to, no of course you didn’t. Why would you?”

“Julian.”

“Save it, Geralt.” The boy muttered. “You are not welcome here. My mother would release the dogs if she saw you.”

“And your father?” Geralt crossed his arms.

“Dead.” Julian didn’t sound particularly bothered by that fact. It must have happened a few years ago.  “Last winter. He got sick, never got better.”

Geralt frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Julian spun round to peer at him again. Those brilliant cool blue eyes watching him fiercely. “Why are you here, Geralt?”

Geralt raised his chin. “I was in the area.”

Julian scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Oh sure. He was in the area. Fucking witcher.”

“I’ve offended you.” Geralt raised an eyebrow.

“Years! Geralt! I’ve been throwing myself into training and studying and anything I can think of that will prepare me to travel with you for years!” Julian prodded his chest. “And you weren’t even going to come back!”

Geralt frowned. “How many years has it been?” He asked. “You’re still a boy.”

“I” Julian announced with wide arms. “am the Viscount de Lettenhove!”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “How many years, Julian?”

“It’s been five years, I’m thirteen, in case you were wondering.”

He was.

“And it’s not been easy either. I had to find excuses that weren’t witchery for every single thing that I learned.” Julian pouted. “And you just forgot about me.”

Geralt scowled. He hadn’t forgotten per se. It was just that he’d been busy. He hadn’t even been back to Kaer Morhen for the last two winters. There had been an unusual spike in monsters just before winter each year. He’d sent word to Vesemir this year, worried that a pattern might be occurring. The old witcher suggested that either the monsters were beginning to evolve, or someone was helping them out during the winter months.

Eskel hadn’t been able to return to the keep either, Geralt had met up with his friend outside Vizima. Eskel had looked as exhausted as he felt. Neither of them had managed to have a proper break in two years and they were starting to feel it.

Perhaps Vesemir’s theory about a mage or sorcerer making trouble wasn’t too far off. Tired witchers got killed more easily. Preventing them from returning to their homes for winter would, in the long term, be fatal. He would have to see if he could track down the source of the spikes. He desperately needed to rest this winter, or next winter at the least.

He looked back down at the boy in front of him. He was pouting with one hand on his hips, his brown hair had grown out since Geralt had last seen him and now covered his ears, his fringe falling in front of his cornflower blue eyes. Geralt’s gaze fell on the sword at the young viscount’s hip.

He drew his sword from his back and pointed at the boy’s chest. His eyes widened and he stumbled back a few steps.

“Geralt? What, what are you doing?” He stammered.

Geralt smirked. “You’ve been training?”

“Yes.” Julian gulped, a faint blush on his cheeks.

“Go on, draw your sword, prove it.” Geralt swished his own sword through the air lazily and shifted into a sparring stance.

“My mother will have your head, witcher!” Julian snapped but fumbled to draw his sword.

“If there had been bandits on the path, you would be dead already.” Geralt chided.

Julian rolled his eyes and lunged in for an attack. Geralt parried the blow easily, he could have dodged but there was no point. He used the parry to pull Julian’s sword from his grip. “You’re holding your sword wrong. No wonder you can’t keep hold of it.”

Julian yelped as Geralt spun round and pulled Julian to his chest, holding his sword to his neck. “Dead.”

“I wasn’t ready!” The boy protested.

“Monsters don’t care if you’re ready. Again!” He pushed Julian away.

Julian scrambled to find his sword on the ground. “Geralt we need to move away from the house. My mother—”

Geralt sighed and sheathed his sword. “There’s a clearing nearby, next to the river. Make your excuses and meet me there in an hour.”

Julian’s face lit up. “Oh thank you! You won’t regret it.”

“Only for this afternoon.” Geralt said firmly. “You’re still too young to come with me.”

Julian’s face dropped. “Geralt!” He whined.

“One hour.” He gave Roach a quick stroke on her muzzle before mounting. The hour would give him time to meditate and eat. He was tired and could do with the rest.

He spurred Roach on and galloped back down the path before veering off into the woods. He had to slow to a canter as he darted through the trees, ducking under the branches. He focussed his senses to scout the area for monsters or wolves but the woods were silent, only the sound of the wind whistling through the trees. There was a faint smell of a bear but the beast must have moved off. He reached the clearing and hopped off Roach, leaving her loose so she could graze the area.

Geralt took the opportunity to wash up in the river. He hadn’t managed to have a proper bath in a while, another thing to do when he reached the next town. Baths and whores. Not a bad way to spend the evening.

So why was he waiting for a thirteen year old boy in the middle of a clearing?

The kid had a good heart, he’d been kind to Geralt all those years ago. That was why. Geralt was just returning the favour. Perhaps once the boy’s mother passed he would have a friend in the Viscount and somewhere warm to stay in the castle. It always helped to know where he could rely on help. So far his best bet away from Kaer Morhen was Nenneke at the temple of Melitele and that could be weeks away, not much good if he got injured on the wrong side of the continent. Lettenhove could make a good base for the witchers if he managed to befriend Julian now.

He finished washing and pulled on his clothes. The water was icy cold, even in the spring, but it hadn’t bothered him. He searched Roach’s bags for something to eat and then sat down on the grass to watch the river flow as he ate.

The sun began to set before Geralt realised how much time had passed. He felt the cool evening breeze brush against his face and he opened his eyes, instantly scowling around he clearing. He sniffed as he got to his feet. There was no sign of Julian and it had certainly been more than an hour, judging by the sun it had been almost three.

He left Roach by the river and slowly made his way back towards the castle on foot. It wasn’t far and this way he was less likely to knock the boy off his feet. He was almost back at the castle when he spotted Julian running through the doors. He had a bow on his back and his sword around his waist.

Geralt stayed hidden in the trees as the boy scampered past him. He smirked and spun round, hitting Julian with a weak Aard spell. It was enough to push Julian forward but not enough to knock him to the ground. Geralt drew his sword and shifted his stance.

“You’re late, Julian.” He called as Julian twirled round already drawing his sword.

Good. He was learning already.

“Mother!” Julian rolled his eyes. “She wouldn’t let me out of her sight. I think she knew I was up to something.”

His grip was still wrong and Geralt flicked his wrist as he had before to disarm the boy. The sword went flying and Geralt laughed.

“Bollocks!” Julian stamped his foot and then squeaked as Geralt lunged for him. This time the boy rolled into a dodge and picked up his sword, raising it above his head before Geralt’s blow could hit. “Ha!” He grinned.

Geralt hummed and nodded. “Good.” He sheathed his sword and gestured for Julian to come closer. “Let’s sort out that grip.”

“But Master Rhindon—”

“Is wrong. Come here.” Geralt said firmly. “If we don’t correct that now you’ll be stuck with the habit for life, and that won’t be a long life.”

Julian pouted but stepped forward. Geralt gently adjusted his grip on the sword. “Like that. Do you know any sequences?”

Julian nodded.

Geralt gestured for Julian to show him. The boy stuck his tongue out as he began to step through a defence sequence with his sword. His gripped shifted back within two moves and Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “Grip!” He barked.

Julian almost dropped the sword but adjusted his grip, wrong. Geralt rolled his eyes. It was going to take some time to break that habit. “We’ll go to the river. You’ll be late home.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Julian glared up at him petulantly. “Mother thinks I’m in bed.”

Geralt nodded. “I’ll stay a week to train you in exchange for food, deal?”

Julian grinned and held out his hand. “Deal!”

Geralt scoffed but shook the boy’s hand. “You’ve got a lot to learn.”

Julian nodded. “I know.”

Geralt smiled at Julian’s admittance. It was a good sign. Yes, the boy was undoubtedly stubborn, but Geralt could hardly blame him for that. In his eyes a bit of stubbornness was good for the soul, and Julian had a good soul. It was why he was taking the time to train him, even if Julian changed his mind about coming with Geralt at least Geralt would know that he’d done his best to ensure the young viscount could defend himself. There would inevitably be duels or assassinations. There always was with nobility, plus it made a change from killing monsters for coin.

They reached the clearing, Roach was thankfully still grazing near the river, and continued training. They trained until well after dark. Julian had protested once they sun had set completely but Geralt insisted that it was good to learn to fight without relying on his eyesight.

“You never know when it could be taken from you.” Geralt grunted.

Julian whined but to his credit kept going.

He improved quickly, even landing a blow on Geralt’s shoulder when he’d been distracted by the sound of leaves crunching nearby. Julian had instantly dropped his sword to make sure he hadn’t actually hurt Geralt. The blow hadn’t even cut his armour but it would probably bruise.

Which meant the sword was shit. A witcher’s sword would have at least left a scratch.

“You need a new sword.” Geralt grumbled.

“Master Rhindon says—”

“Master Rhindon knows shit all.” Geralt growled. “By the end of the week you’ll be a better swordsman than that so called master.”

Julian stifled a yawn but he couldn’t hide it from Geralt’s enhanced senses, not even in the dark. Geralt glanced up at the moon. They’d been training half the night. He hummed and sheathed his sword. He scooped up Julian and dumped him into Roach’s saddle.

“What, Geralt?” Julian cried.

“I’m taking you home. It’s late.” Geralt grumbled and led his mare by the reins back to the castle.

Julian fell asleep in the saddle on the short journey back. Geralt rolled his eyes and shook the boy awake before helping him back to the ground. Julian yawned and rubbed his eyes.

“After breakfast. I’ll be waiting.” Geralt muttered.

To his surprise the young viscount hugged him. He awkwardly patted the boy on the head before pushing him towards the house.

“Thank you, Geralt. I’ll make you proud!”

Geralt allowed himself to smile as the boy ran to the house. He was already proud, not that he would ever admit it to the boy.

Tag list: @alwenarin @slythnerd @davidtennan-t @flippinfricks @awitchersbard @genkitaco @innocentcinnamonpun @marvagon

[tomthesoftie]

can u do a imagine where it describes tom and y/ns romantic valentines day from morning to night and then towards almost midnight tom proposes her to be his wife and she is overjoyed btw y/ns sister is dating harry.

cheesy spoilers pt.2

a/n: this was so long... it took me like 3 hours to finish it, so hopefully it’s up to standards... enjoy my lovelies xx

warnings: minimal sexual innuendos, swearing, nervous tom

masterlist                     prompt list

pt.1 | p1.2

You awoke to the aroma of delectable foods coming through the cracks of the door. Your eyes fluttered open only to shut after meeting the beam of light peeking through the curtains. You groaned, shuffling under the covers, not wanting to get up.

You heard the door creaking as your brunette boy stuck his head into the open space between the door frame and the door. His eyes focused on you, he saw your figure under the large white blanket. Quietly, he tip-toed over to you and hopped onto your body, eliciting a moan of pain from you.

“Tom,” you moaned.

“Fuck, darling, do that again,” he sighed.

“Stop,” you blushed, “Get off of me. You’re heavy.”

“How rude,” he scoffed, standing back up.

You giggled and took his hand before he hoisted you out of the bed. He dragged you to the dining table, plates neatly displayed at two seats across of each other.

“For you, m’lady,” he pulled out a chair for you.

“Thank you,” you said softly, “Did you do all of this? Just for me?”

“Well, I had some help from Sam, but I did most of the work. Besides, why wouldn’t I do this for you?” He smiled proudly.

“I love you so much,” you gushed, “But we’ve been together for years now. There’s no need to be extra.”

“Anything for my love. Now, less talking and more eating,” he declared as he dug into his plate of food.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence while eating your brunch, only sounds of chewing or the knife cutting your meal occasionally filling the air. You would look across at Tom from time to time. He looked quite nervous about something as you could hear his leg bouncing under the table.

“Anything wrong, Tommy?” You asked, concerned.

He seemed shocked but answered, “No, nothing wrong at all.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, don’t worry about me. Just enjoy yourself,” he smiled before getting lost in his train of thought once more.

You couldn’t seem to put your finger on what he was so worried about. You tried to think back to the night before, but your memory was foggy. You couldn’t remember much from last night.

“Falling in love with you was the second best thing that happened to me,” he whispered.

“Second? Excuse you?” You tipped your head up to look at the brunette.

“But meeting you was the first,” he finished.

“Ew, you’re so cheesy,” your hand reached up to squish his cheek.

“You love me, though,” he turned his head in attempt to bite your hand.

“Ay! I do love you, but you’re such a div most of the time.”

“Who’s the one who does the dishes, washes the dirty laundry, and cleans the house?”

“Me,” you replied, eyebrows furrowed.

You felt like you were missing something crucial from the conversation. You focused on the conversation, hoping it would help you put the pieces together, but to your dismay, you could only remember getting tired and falling asleep in Tom’s arms. You shrugged it off and finished your meal.

Tom stood from his seat, plates and utensils in his arms, walking towards you.

“Finished?”

“Yes, thank you,” you grabbed your own dishes before he stopped you.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll do it. You go and get ready. I’m taking you out for a stroll somewhere you’ll love and then to dinner,” he took your plates and piled it into his arms.

You watched his back as he left to do the dishes. As much as you loved the boy, he annoyed you by always pushing you away when you offered to help. Rolling your eyes, you did as he instructed.

You walked out of your room, hair neatly curled and wearing a floral square neck sundress. Your white Chelsea boots clicked as you made your way to the kitchen.

“I’m ready, Tommy,” you announced, stepping into the room.

“Perfect, I just finished,” he said, wiping his hands on the washcloth.

He turned around to face you and was rendered speechless. His eyes were wide and tinted with admiration. He blinked, scanning his eyes over your form.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you teased.

“Let’s get going,” he chuckled, finally moving from his state of awe. “You look gorgeous, by the way,” he whispered in your ear as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

You giggled, blushing as you gently slapped his chest. As you reached the door to your home, you grabbed your round, straw shoulder bag and placed your phone and wallet into it. Tom grabbed the keys to his Audi, starting it up after leaving the house. You sat beside him in the passenger seat, staring at the neighboring homes as you drove by. Soon those homes became cars then trees. 

“Where are we?” You asked.

“The Hill Garden and Pergola. You’ll love it.”

He parked the car and the two of you got out of the vehicle. He grasped your hand, leading you to the vast green land. When you entered, you did love it. There were beautiful shades of greens and occasional pops of colors from the flowers. You walked through the structures and into a large space. Pillars surrounded an empty center and supported to gridded roof. Past this area was a round structure with a teal dome ceiling.

“C’mon, Tommy,” you took your boyfriend’s hand, rushing him towards it.

A bright smile lit up your face while Tom looked nervous and frustrated. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his left hand remained in his pocket, grasping an object. In the confined, isolated space, he found this as a perfect opportunity.

“Y/N,” you turned to face him, “We’ve known each other for more than a decade, and we’ve been together for 6 years now.” He got down on one knee, revealing a red leather box with the word Cartier in gold on it. He opened the box, “I can’t imagine my life without you. You’ve been the love of my life ever since we were only teenagers. I want to have children and grow old with you. If you’ll do me the honor, that is.”

Tears filled your eyes, hands cupping your mouth. Your words came out as strange slurs and sobs. You resorted to nodding and stuck your hand out for him to slip on the ring. He stood for his stance and pulled you into a tight hug, spinning you in the air before connecting his lips with yours.

“Thank you so much, love. You’ve no idea how blessed I am to get a girl like you,” he spoke, your foreheads resting against each other.

“No, thank you, Tommy,” you sputtered.

Lost in the moment, you hadn’t noticed the small crowd that filled the area. They had started clapping and whistling, catching your attention. You laughed and smiled, waving at them. As the two of you exited the structure, many people congratulated you. A group of girls hid on the side, crying and whining in jealousy. They glared at you as you walked by, but you weren’t fazed by it, too consumed in the proposal.

Tom drove back to town, valeting the car as you arrived at the building. He led you into the it and up an elevator to 31st floor. The metallic doors opened, displaying the restaurant Aqua Shard. Remembering the familiarity of the restaurant, you realized it was rather expensive, in your opinion.

“No, I couldn’t,” you tugged on your fiancé’s arm.

“Yes, you can. Besides, I already have a reservation,” he objected.

“Fine but you can’t make me waste your money,” you snapped.

“You’re not wasting any of my money. You’re worth it, all of it,” he leaned down, gently kissing you.

The waitress behind the pedestal brought you to your seats. You had a perfect view of River Thames and Tower Bridge. You were also able to watch the the burst of pink and orange fill the sky as the sun set. 

You ordered the most affordable dishes they had. You’d gotten pearl barley risotto, which surprisingly was able to fill your stomach. Tom offered to get dessert but you denied. Obviously, he thought you were acting obnoxiously and bought it anyway.

“Ugh, I’m so full but it looks so good,” you groaned.

“It’s for you, darling. Dig in,” he pushed the dish towards you.

“You’re trying to stuff me,” you argued but tasted the chocolate and toffee tart. “Fuck, it’s good,” you moaned as you took another bite of it.

“I told you,” he smirked, receiving a roll of your eyes.

Tom drove back home with an overstuffed you. You felt sick from all the food that was contained in your stomach. You complained to him multiple times on your ride back. He only laughed at you and ignored your complaints.

You stepped out of the car, stretching with a sigh. You were able to digest most of the food on the long drive. Tom unlocked the door, and you rushed in to the warmth. On the counter, there were a dozen of roses with a small note attached to it: Happy Valentine’s Day! Love, Tom

Then, the events from the night before came rushing back into your mind.

“That’s true, but who works their arse off to impress you and make you feel loved? Who bought you a dozen of roses and a promise ring to show their dedication?” He teased, poking at your sides. 

“Oh my god! How did I forget?” You groaned.

Tom looked at you, confused, “What?”

“You told me about your gifts last night, but this morning, I forgot about it completely,” you face-palmed.

“Really? I thought you remembered, that’s why I was so stressed,” he explained.

“Well, I didn’t so it was a nice surprise,” you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around him.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he pulled you into a passionate kiss.

He pushed you against the wall, hips rubbing against each other. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, and your hands were combing through his curls. His hands reached down to grab your ass. He squeezed it, gaining a moan from you.

He pulled away and breathlessly said, “Let’s take this to the bedroom.”

You didn’t need to reply, he was already making his way to your shared room. He slammed the door locked behind him.

Surely the next morning, you would be sore, but that’s to care for later. For now, you’d enjoy it. The night was restless. There was no silence in the house all night

[bumbershots]

A CERTAIN ROMANCE

CHAPTER FOUR: SILENCE COMES AND GOES

Author’s note: Hello! We continue with this, I would like to thank everyone once again for all the likes and reblogs the story has gotten so far, couldn’t be happier! Enjoy (:

Story masterlist ** Word count: 2.9K **

It is possible that Harry is ignoring the big elephant in the room, as he spreads some jam in his crumpet, well aware of Fernando and Jack exchanging knowing looks. He takes a bite of the savoury treat and hopes none of them dare to confront him, at the same time he wants to be questioned about why he hasn't called Alma yet.

Harry spent the last two weeks grumpy and frustrated.

He's called his therapist way too many times. He has no idea where he went wrong in his healing process. They were back to square one, whispered his tired heart.

Jack is surprised too, his friend got on so well with Alma at the party and apparently even went the extra mile asking for her number then he spent the following fourteen days acting as if she didn’t exist. Didn't even text her like Gemma suggested. He sips his coffee and sighs for the millionth time that day.

The musician is infuriated at himself and desperate that he wants to have Fernando demand an explanation for his behaviour towards his sister. Harry's not a confrontational guy, but he's going mad. Might be losing it. He wanted to scream at the two men before him that he did plan on calling Alma, but then he got so sad. Now he's afraid it's too late.

"Do you want another one?" Fernando holds the plate with crumpets in front of Harry who takes one more and thanks him before grabbing the jam. "Do you reckon you'll be man enough to call my sister within the next couple of days?" Harry chokes on his food while Jack's laughter booms through their home.

Nobody has ever called him out like that. Harry's still unsure whether to be grateful or scared. Maybe a bit of both he thinks after composing himself again from the fit of coughs, he knows Fernando is still waiting for an answer.

"Is she upset about it?" A hint of relief and pride linger on Harry's voice. Jack shakes his head, knowing that he's avoiding the question. Something he's very good at.

"That's not what I asked." Fernando's clipped tone leaves no room for the musician to beat around the bush anymore.

"I was really nervous about calling her, kept putting it off until days turned into weeks... I'm not sure how to go about it," he plays with his rings and looks away from the inquisitive gaze of his companions.

"How did you get Taylor to go out with you?"

"What?" Harry and Jack ask at the same time.

"You must've asked her I guess," Fernando shrugs. "What is so scary about Alma that puts you off? Are you interested in just a shag and you're worried she'll decline or tell the media about it?" Harry is shaking his head vigorously and the dark haired architect leans a bit closer towards him, "you're so full of sh-”

"Alright let's take a break," Jack's soothing tone brings his house mate back from the rage path he was following. But Harry knew that he was right.

It had been a year already, he moved to a new house, one where his ex never set foot into and still her ghost was everywhere. He has this crazy need to destroy everything that can relate to her. Her favourite cardigan is kept away in a box full of Polaroids and books that are all her.

The real reason why he didn't dare to call Alma is because whatever he felt at the beginning of his previous relationship, or any other one, was at least ten times less intense, than what he was feeling now. Seeing the menace before them, his heart and mind decided to leave him courage-less towards the situation. It's less painful to think what could've been than to know it and see it being taken away from you. Again.

But he deserves to be happy, that's what Gemma reminded him the other day.

"I gotta go," Fernando announces before rising from his seat, walking inside the house and upstairs to his room. Jack tries to tidy up the table a bit, not daring to look at his apparently mute friend. When Fernando comes back down he steps outside to the patio where they had brunch, one last glance to a very ashamed Harry and he sighs. "Brigit's Bakery Classic Afternoon Tea Bus. Alma’s been dying to get tickets but never has the time to actually book it," he explains adjusting his jacket's collar. "It's not too late." With that he turns on his heel and leaves the house.

Harry takes their mugs and places them in the sink, he notices Jack is going around the kitchen putting away the butter and milk in the fridge.

"What are you waiting for Romeo?" The blue eyed man asks, stopping in front of a blushing Harry.

They're both quiet for a minute. Harry's heart is racing and can feel his hands get clammy. He hasn't felt someone's faith in a long time, and he's not sure if he's happy or pressured that Fernando and Jack are pushing him to call Alma, he doesn’t even know if she will give him a chance. Harry's wishing to be the kind of guy to take out his mobile and make the call, maybe even crack a witty joke that will have Alma laughing in that loud way he remembers and not be awkward with asking her out on a date. As if he wasn't completely mortified by being rejected.

Harry was sure he would ruin it, not just the call but the date and everything else that was actually going to happen between them without even trying first.

"Hello?" She answers after the third ring, confused at the unknown number calling her.

"Yeah it's me," Harry nods to Jack who urges him to finish whatever sentence he's trying to form, "I believe I owe you some coffee."

"Harry?" Alma tries to fight back a laugh. A wide smile splitting her face after recognising who is the mystery caller.

"Yes! Sorry I forgot you didn't have my number." Jack is red with second hand embarrassment for his friend and decides to start the dishwasher just to keep his eyes from the train wreck happening in his kitchen. "I'm sorry for not calling sooner."

"You're calling now, 's all that matters... I'd love to get that coffee. Next Thursday works for you?" He nods feverishly and remembers he's on the phone.

"Of course, I'll pick you up at five if that's alright."

"Make it half past five please, that's when my shift ends. I'll text you the address." She throws the latter smoothly as an excuse to initiate conversation until they meet again and Harry is oblivious about it.

"Sure great, perfect I'm... really looking forward to seeing you," he plays with the tea towel on the counter, his back turned to Jack, a million butterflies fluttering in his stomach when he hears the coy chuckle his confession got out of her. "Have a good day, see you later."

"See you later, Harry" Alma's goodbye is full of hope and endearment, just like the one he got before she walked away from him that morning after Freddie’s birthday party.

After ending the call, he mentally scolds himself for dreading it so much. It went so much better than expected, even got a laugh out of her. Perhaps Harry needed to stop making decisions based upon his fears and more taking in consideration the other person. He always thought he knew best, it's what he's been told for so many years and although he needs to be making big choices most of the time, perhaps now he could share that responsibility. Felt dead nice for a change.

"That wasn't so bad." He admits to Jack before drying the now clean dishes with a towel.

"I'm proud of you, now tell me, where are you guys going for that coffee?" Jack's eyes are full of curiosity and excitement, it's impossible for Harry not to feel a chill go down his spine at the prospect of planning the date. He thinks about what Fernando suggested, but it would be too obvious that it wasn't his idea entirely.

Alma deserves something exclusively planned by him.

"Don't know yet, perhaps somewhere nice and quiet" he ponders and his friend agrees.

Last time Harry had a proper first date was about two years ago or so. He cooked aubergine parmigiana following Jamie Oliver's recipe and baked some biscuits for dessert that he enjoyed with his companion overlooking the Pacific Ocean from his home's balcony. Back then it seemed to be the right choice to keep it low-key, a simple dinner at his, no risk at all to be bothered or watched. But Harry knew that at some point it got old, being overly discreet was easily mistaken for being ashamed of the relationship. That kind of thing can do a lot to someone's confidence, little by little until it's all too much to bear.

If he could only learn not to care about the world's prying eyes.

Harry doesn't want to drag anyone into the scrutiny of the media until he knows it's an incorruptible bond. The inevitable thought of forever, something he believes might not exist for him, at times. He did think Taylor was it, even Kendall for a while, which is why he dated more publicly back then, until she came along and the love Harry felt was so grand it made him overly protective of them. Countless times he tried to explain that this was the first time something was working in spite of all the circumstances that came with his life and he was trying to cherish it, keep it to himself. Nurture it until it was as tough as old boots.

That night was spent writing down ideas for that first date. Number one was The river café, near Putney Bridge, a place free of paparazzi. Number two, Rail house café, lovely spot to share dinner. Number three The sanctuary café, located in a beautiful building with a quirky environment. Number four and his personal favourite Lola's bakery, their service was so warm and intimate, he remembers the cinnamon Chelsea bun and his mouth waters instantly. So, drawing a big circle around the fourth option he smiles before going to bed that night.

Saturday morning finds Harry at his grandparents’ old home, carrying a bag full of ingredients for a vegetarian lasagna he is planning to cook for his grandfather and his mum. He immediately banishes Anne from helping in the kitchen. She observed him follow the recipe, cooking for no longer than ten minutes the garlic, thyme and aubergine, and then crumble over the chilli carefully. He lets her grate the Parmesan when the sauce isn’t thickening and reducing like it was supposed to. With a bump of her hip, she nodded towards a couple of tomatoes, Harry smiled before tipping them in, breaking them with a spoon and five minutes later, the sauce was ready.

His mother is a marvellous woman, like the good son he is, Harry doesn't want to make her sad, ever. The last time he visited her, recently broken hearted, they spent it baking, cooking, eating sweets and drinking hot chocolate at the rear terrace. Once he had enough of moping around, he decided to make it up to her and create good memories from that visit. They explored the local parklands as if it was the first time, shared ice cream, got tipsy on cheap red wine and chatted from dusk till dawn.

A few hours later, after eating the delicious meal and tidying up the kitchen afterwards, Harry watches his mum talking to his grandad, holding his shaky hand in hers and caressing it in a soothing way. The elder man’s Parkinson is getting worse with time, he feels so useless, specially because it affects his favourite people. He wants to know what his mother is thinking when she joins him back in the kitchen. There is some anguish dancing in her kind eyes, but Harry knows better than to push her to share something she is not ready to.

"I have a date next Thursday," he chokes out, in hopes of distracting her, and it works. Anne's head whips towards her youngest child, evidently shocked and yet proud. It's been years since Harry shared that kind of information with her.

"A proper date?"

"Yes," he wants to add how nervous it makes him. "I dunno how serious it'll get... just met her once, properly I mean, we saw each other on the tube's carriage three times prior to it. Coincidentally of course, Gem said it is something straight out of a film."

"Who is she?" His mother is giving him that look, the one that says how giddy she is to know absolutely everything about the person that got her son so skittish, that he started to rearrange the containing of the cupboards entirely.

"Her name is Alma," he doesn't know where to start, if he spills all the ways in which he thinks she is wonderful, they'll end up pulling an all-nighter.

"And she's a...?"

"Cashier during the week, Spanish teacher on the weekends and occasional interviewer for her Youtube channel." Anne raises her eyebrows, impressed and wondering why such a busy girl agreed to go on a date. Must like him a lot of course, she thinks watching her son pour hot water on a mug, and dunking a tea bag in it afterwards.

"Where did you meet her if not on the tube?'' She is curious and weary. This wouldn't be the first time her youngest spawn overlooked certain things from strangers. Very little things in Harry's life were coincidences nowadays.

"Remember Jack Robinson?" his mum nodded, how could she forget the cheeky chap that helped Harry escape almost every night from his dad's house in the summer, just to go skate in Southbank's center until midnight. Anne admitted to not liking the bloke for a while, but gave him another chance after watching him grow into a responsible adult. "He's in charge of my home renovation, extension whatever it is called. Invited me to Freddie's birthday party and she was there." The dreamy look on his eyes when reminiscing the moment brought out a wide smile on his mum's face followed by her loud laughter.

"Oh Harry, you've got that look." it was the truth. He looked completely gobsmacked by his mother's reaction, but he couldn’t deny the peace he felt when knowing that she was already fond of the girl that he couldn’t get out of his mind.

"It’s too soon to tell!” He doesn’t want to dive into it, not yet. 

"How did you really meet? I want all the details." Anne asked, taking a seat at the coffee table and Harry told her everything.

From the first glance he stole her way to the last phone call he had yesterday at Jack and Fernando's house, his hands flew several times to tussle his hair and the dimple on his left cheek was exquisite, when telling his mother, how she asked him to dance with her. He spared no detail, from her intoxicating Moschino perfume to her raspy accented voice. By the time he finished, his mum's mug was empty but her heart was full. For so long she wondered if she would ever witness the beauty of Harry in love again and enjoy first-hand the way he spoke about that person in the sweetest manner, the high-pitched tone of his voice when finally admitting how nervous he actually was about this first date.

"Right, well in that case, stop thinking about how everything is going to go wrong." Easier said than done, Harry thinks but nods. "I'm sure whatever you planned will sweep her off her feet." Anne knew how much of a romantic her boy was, he went all out in that department. His best quality and Achilles heel.

"If the cupcakes from that place don't... I could literally do it." Harry plucks a banana from the fruit bowl before them and narrows his eyes when his mum rolls her eyes at him playfully.

His mother's reassurance made him feel less hopeless, the next day when they went to Sheffield's city center, she even picked out a couple of new mugs. 'Just in case we have new visitors at home.' Harry groaned but failed to hide the dreamy look in his eyes, he even crossed his fingers behind his back as he watched her pay for the cups. The thought of Alma meeting his mother in the near future —and the rest of his loved ones— excited him to an unfamiliar degree, like the first time he saw the seaside with his own eyes at a very young age, like that time he sang in front of a considerable amount of people, like a warm hug of his late grandmother. The idea that she may like him enough to agree to a second date is stuck on his brain, despite that they haven't even survived the first one.

Anne saw him enjoy himself the rest of that afternoon and the next morning before he had to go back to London. She sighed and watched him drive away, standing in her front door for a few more minutes, rejoicing on the memory of Harry's toothy grin. Usually she was careful and waiting for the other shoe to drop, but not this time. There was a bit of certainty in the unfamiliar situation, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, she decided to patiently wait and see. She hummed a familiar tune while putting away the new additions to her crockery. The same song her son decided to play on his journey back home.

Qué será, será. Whatever will be, will be. The future's not ours to see. Qué será, será.

///

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Next chapter

[sorceress-coffee]

Recipe for Disaster

AO3 Link

River’s P.O.V.

During Strickler’s class, I was trying to focus. Every time I glanced at Stickler; all I could see was Bular’s sneer after calling Jim ‘Young Atlas’ the night before. Strickler was a Changeling, and we couldn’t assume how much he knew of us. During the lecture, I could feel Eemeli’s gaze burning the side of my face. Sighing I finally turned to him.

 “What’s wrong?” I asked, trying to relax. Finding it hard whenever Strickler walked near my desk.

 Eemeli shrugged, glancing at Strickler’s back when he passed us. “You’re tense, I can hear your spine creaking.” He joked, trying to diffuse the tension.

 Frowning, my eyes trailed after Strickler, keeping my voice down as Eemeli and I spoke. “We found out something yesterday, it’s… well, I don’t know how to feel about it. Everyone else seems to have made up their minds on the situation.” I explained trying to keep it vague, wanting to keep Eemeli out of our Trollhunting activities. He may know about Trolls now, but that didn’t mean he had to put himself in danger for our fight.

 “It has something to do with Strickler?” He asked, going back to his notes whenever Strickler faced the students to talk. “You look torn.”

 I frowned at my notes when Eemeli pointed it out. “I’ve known Strickler for four years, he’s been a history teacher here for… well forever. After yesterday though, it sounds as if he’s working for someone interested in hurting Trolls and humans alike. I just can’t imagine Strickler would do that?” I explained, skipping over the Changeling part.

 Eemeli studied me until the bell rang. Quickly packing his notes away, turning to face me. “Have you tried asking him about whatever it is you’re worried about?” He asked, stiffening as Strickler stopped behind me.

 I turned quickly to face Strickler, smiling timidly. “Mr. Stickler sir, is everything alright?” I asked, hoping my nerves didn’t show through.

 Strickler paused, frowning in thought, “No, actually, I wanted to speak with you for a moment Young Mordred.” He glanced back at Eemeli. “Alone if you prefer.” He suggested.

 I glanced over my shoulder, realizing Eemeli and I were the only students left in class. Turning back to Strickler, I shrugged smiling at him, “That’s alright, Eemeli’s a friend, I don’t mind him staying.”

 Strickler hummed, giving a quick nod, he leaned back against a desk, playing with his pen. “I was hoping things wouldn’t become awkward between us in light of recent events.” He stated, watching me for a reaction.

 My eyes widened, wondering if ‘recent events’ meant knowing he was a Changeling. “I’m sorry sir, I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” I told him, needing clarification.

 Stickler smiled, setting his pen down. “Your mother has invited me to dinner, and I graciously accepted. It seems I will be seeing you tonight. Would that make things awkward?” He asked, gesturing to the classroom.

 “Oh,” I said, tilting my head in thought, “I don’t see why that would be an issue, sir. Does Jim know you’re coming over tonight? Trust me, you’ll want him to be the one cooking. Mom’s is fatal to humans.” I joked, trying to act like everything was normal, not realizing I had gone stiff again.

 Strickler chuckled at the joke, nodding. “I have informed Young Atlas as well. He seemed a little on edge, though after what you’ve told me, he is probably just worried that your mother will try to cook for tonight.” He smiled.

 Eemeli cleared his throat, “Uh, River?” He spoke up, glancing to Strickler, “We have the art project to work on tonight, didn’t Ms. Harper say something about mid-process checks coming up?” He asked, giving me an out from the dinner tonight.

 My eyes widen, looking back at Eemeli, relaxing slightly, “I forgot we were doing that tonight! Mr. Stickler, it looks like I won’t be able to stay during dinner, I hope you have a good time with mom and Jim thought.” I apologized quickly, Eemeli leading me to the door.

 Strickler just smiled, waving it off. “Of course, schoolwork comes first. Have fun working on your project.”

 Eemeli and I headed out quickly. The rest of the day blurred by as we all finally got back to the house, hanging out in the basement as Jim goes over the plan with Draal, Eemeli, and myself.

 Draal sneered, “I don’t like this plan. It lacks a certain, killing the Changeling, aspect.” He growled out.

 “We aren’t killing him,” I snapped, having heard enough about ripping Strickler apart to get answers. “We don’t even know if he’s here for malicious reasons. Mom invited him over, remember?” I asked crossing my arms over my chest defensively.

 Draal eyed me confused, unsure why I would be against harming Strickler to get answers. “He’s working for Bular, therefore he’s working for Gunmar, which means he’s a threat to Trolls, Humans, the Trollhunter, and you,” he explained, believing that was reason enough to sway my opinion on the matter.

 I leveled a glare at Draal, “Does he have a choice?” I simply asked.

Draal was taken aback by my question, jaw hanging as he processed what I asked. Jim looked to be in shock as well.

 Eemeli’s head snapped up to look at me, eyes wide. “Okay, I get Changelings are bad, from how Jim and Draal have been talking about them, so why would you ask that?” He asked, just as stunned as Jim and Draal.

 Walking over to one of the shelves holding books in Trollish, I grabbed one that explained Gumm-gumms and Changelings, flipping to a page on Changelings specifically reading from it. “’ Gumm-gumm soldiers raided Troll villages, kidnapping the young. These young trolls were changed by a process created by,’ The name has been blacked out. ‘to spy on the surface world. They were turned into what is now know as a Changeling, and are controlled by Gunmar.’” I finished setting the book back on the shelf. “So, does he have a choice?” I asked again, looking up at Draal.

 Draal snarled, finally recovering from the shock. “Either way, he’s an impure working for Gunmar, he’s a threat.” He tried to reason.

 Teeth bared I snarled back at him, “Why do Trolls treat Changelings like they are monsters? They’re still Trolls! It’s not their fault Gunmar kidnapped them!” I snapped out.

 Draal reeled back in shock, never having seen me angry before, let alone having the anger directed at him.

 Eemeli nudged me when it was clear Draal wasn’t going to speak further on the topic. “We should go before Strickler gets here. We have to meet up with the others.” He spoke, heading to the stairs.

 Sighing, I grabbed Midnight and walked past Draal, heading after Eemeli quickly. Once out of the house we took off running to the school, meeting up with Arrrgh and Blinky at the doors. “What are we waiting for?” I asked Blinky, unsure of why they hadn’t gone in yet.

 Blinky sighed, tapping his foot impatiently, “We are waiting on NotEnrique and Toby to open the doors. Master Jim has forbidden us from breaking anymore after the incident at Claire’s house.” He winced at the memory, having waited for Jim after the Nunez’s returned.

 The doors swung open quickly, NotEnrique hanging on one, grinning as he spots me, “Well if it isn’t the Witch. I didn’t know you were coming out here too.” He snickered, jumping to my shoulder. As we walked in, he turned to Eemeli, “Who’s the new fleshbag?” He asked, sneering at him.

 I laughed, patting his head, “NotEnrique, this is Eemeli, he’s a friend from school. Eemeli this is NotEnrique, he’s a Changeling. The incident Blinky mentioned earlier was us finding out that Enrique had been switched with NotEnrique.” I explained as we followed behind Blinky, Arrrgh, and Toby.

 Eemeli smiled, poking NotEnrique’s nose, “After what Jim and Draal had said I expected something… scarier?” He chuckled, NotEnrique swatting his hand away.

 “Watch it fleshy,” NotEnrique hissed out, switching to my other shoulder. “Us Changelin’s are scary enough. Trust me.” He huffed out.

 I shook my head with a small smile. How could people think this guy is a little monster? We quickly made it to Stickler’s office. “So, what exactly are we looking for, other than information on the bridge?” I asked Blinky as we began tearing through Strickler’s shelves.

 Blinky huffed, landing on the piano, “Anything suspicious and dangerous.” He said as if that explained exactly what to look for. He lifted the lid of the piano and grinned, “Oh! I haven’t seen one of these in ages!” He cracked his knuckles and began to play the piano with all four of his arms, it sounded like a classical duet.

 Toby was looking around Strickler’s desk when he picked up the pen Strickler always had on him. “If I were a Changeling, where would I hide a super-secret key?” He asked himself, opening and similarly closing the pen as Strickler during class.

 I rolled my eyes, looking around near a larger purple gemstone Strickler had on a shelf. NotEnrique pulled on my ear as I got close to the stone, “I wouldn’t go touching that if I were you,” he warned quickly, eyes locked on the stone, a flash of fear crossing his face.

 I glanced at the stone again before pulling away with a nod. If it scared NotEnrique, it was probably best left alone. Eemeli groaned next to me, having cleared another shelf. “Why would he hide anything here? Aren’t there too many humans around?” He asked.

 Toby jumped out of his seat, holding up the pen, throwing the cap. “I found a key! How spy is this?” He asked, turning to Blinky and Arrrgh.

 Blinky grinned, examining the key. “A Changeling key for a Changeling lock!” He cheered, “Quick, we must find the lock!”

 Sighing, I went over to the shelves behind Strickler’s desk with NotEnrique. Pulling a few books back I paused, seeing an oddly shaped hole in the shelf. “Hey Blinky, is this it?” I asked moving away from the shelf.

 Blinky and Toby both crowded the shelf. Toby reached up with the key, trying to get it to turn. “Why isn’t it working?” He asked, pulling away from the shelf.

 Blinky looked back at me, specifically at NotEnrique perched on my shoulder. “A Changeling lock for a Changeling key.” He simply stated.

 I looked over to NotEnrique, smiling softly. “Would you mind helping?” I asked, not wanting to force him into opening the lock.

 NotEnrique looked at me stunned as if asking for help was a foreign concept to him. He slowly eyed the others before waving his hand at the key Toby still held. “Give it here fleshbag.” He growled out.

 I smiled walking to Toby so he could hand the key off to NotEnrique before returning to the lock. NotEnrique sigh before sticking the key in and turning it. As soon as he turned the key, a mechanism behind the wall released pulling it back, revealing a hidden room.

 Toby rushed in, going directly to a book sitting on a pedestal, “Whoa, this is so cool!” He grinned stopping on a page depicted two different trolls and what appeared to be humans for lunch.

 “The Book of Ga-Huel,” Blinky grinned, recognizing it instantly, “Record of Gumm-gumm history.” He explained.

 I stood next to Toby, wincing as I read over the names of the Trolls on the page. Toby grinned pointing to the picture of the Troll on the right. “Hey Arrrgh, this one kind of looks like you.” He said, grinning up at Arrrgh.

 Arrrgh sighed, turning away from the book. NotEnrique snickered from my shoulder, looking over the picture. “That’s because it is Arrrgh.” He grinned as Toby’s face fell, looking from the book to Arrrgh’s back.

 “You… you used to eat people?” He asked softly, not wanting to believe NotEnrique.

 Blinky and Arrrgh explained that Arrrgh had been a Gumm-gumm general in Gunmar’s horde. That he turned on Gunmar and helped seal him away, taking a pacifist oath after the war.

 Toby smiled, looking up at Arrrgh. “You may have been one of them, but you’re one of us now Wingman.” He stated, giving Arrrgh a fist bump.

 I smiled at the exchange. Eemeli and NotEnrique both seemed shocked that Toby could accept Arrrgh so easily after learning he had been a Gumm-gumm who ate humans in the past. We continued to look for items that could help us find Killahead Bridge. I found a large ring made of stone and crystal, turning it over. “What’s this?” I asked Blinky.

 NotEnrique winced, seeing the ring. “It’s uh… nothing…” He tried to argue before letting out a sigh, “It’s how I got here.” He grumbled out after a moment.

 Blinky nodded, taking the ring to examine it. “This is a very rare artifact indeed. It houses crack between our world and the Darklands, it’s called a Fetch” he explains. Blinky handed it off to Toby who was poking at it, trying to classify the crystals.

 Eemeli and Toby examined it, bouncing back ideas of what it could be when Toby activated in on accident. “Why not take a look on the other side? You’re still looking for Enrique, right?” Eemeli suggested. Toby nodded and stuck his head through the portal.

 NotEnrique pulled my ear harshly, trying to get my attention.

 I yelped at the tug, “What is it?” I asked, trying to rub the ear he still ha a hold on. NotEnrique simply pointed to the crystal he had warned me about earlier. Smoke began to pour out of it quickly. “Uh, Blinky, there’s a problem!” I yelped as the smoke began to lash out towards us.

 Arrrgh growled at is, ripping Strickler’s door off its hinges, blocking the smoke for now. “Run!” He yelled and we all took off quickly, running down the halls.

 As the smoke began to close in, Blinky and Arrrgh shoved Toby, Eemeli, NotEnrique, and I to the right. “Run, we’ll lead it away!” He instructed, turning to taunt the smoke creature chasing us.

 NotEnrique jumped from my shoulder, running down the hall towards the gym. “This way!” He yelled over his shoulder.

 I shoved Eemeli and Toby forward, running after NotEnrique. A glance back to Blinky and Arrrgh revealed that the smoke monster had decided to chase us instead of the Trolls. Once I made it into the gym I pulled out Midnight, activating it and sliding it through the door handles. “That’ll only hold it back for a moment,” I told them quickly.

 Toby was yelling at NotEnrique, “Why’d you run away?” He asked, not having heard NotEnrique directing them as his head had still been in the Fetch.

 “Why’d you trust a Changeling?!” NotEnrique snapped back, pissed off that Toby was yelling at him.

 I got between them quickly, leveling Toby with a glare to shut him up before turning to NotEnrique, “I trust you. You warned us about the smoke monster and helped get us here. Do you think you can find a way out?” I asked him, glancing back at the door as the smoke back to seep through the cracks. Midnight barley holding it closed.

 NotEnrique nodded, running to the rope and climbing it quickly, he knocked the grate off of the air vent and waved for us to follow him.

 Eemeli nodded to me before heading up the rope. Toby was panicking looking from the rope to the door before running for the rope, quickly climbing up. “I’m doing it!” He cheered as I followed after him. He paused to ring the bell before slipping into the vent.

 I turned back as the door broke, reaching out, I summoned Midnight back to me before slipping in the vent and following after the boys. I could hear each one scream up ahead as I turned, falling right after them. I was launched out a vent, landing on a piled of limbs, consisting of NotEnrique, Toby, and Eemeli.

 The smoke monster quickly followed after me. Before I could react, Blinky and Arrrgh blocked it, using the Fetch to send it to the Darklands. As the force began to push them back, the boys and I quickly jumped up, helping them hold the Fetch until the last of the monster was gone.

 I groaned, sliding back against the wall. NotEnrique sitting next to me. “I’m starting to think Strickler wants to kill us,” I frowned, wincing as I tried to move. Getting launched out of the air vent left some bruises.

 NotEnrique frowned looking up at me, then back to the air vent. “No kidding,” he sighed, curling up next to me.

 Eemeli stood carefully, sore from Toby and I landing on him. “Maybe we should get him home. What if the family goes to check on him?” He asked, checking his phone for the time.

 I nodded picking NotEnrique up as Blinky, Arrrgh, and Toby were celebrating their victory over the smoke monster. “Hey guys, we’re going to head out, I’ll see you later,” I nodded to them, walking out with Eemeli.

 NotEnrique climbed back up to my shoulder, drifting off as he hung on. “Didn’t think he’d have one of those hiding around,” he yawned out.

 “What was that thing?” I asked, making sure he wouldn’t fall if he fell asleep.

 “Antramonstrum,” he said, dozing off.

 Eemeli chuckled at the sleeping Changeling, “I think someone likes you.” He teased, nudging my shoulder with his.

 I laughed softly as we walked to the Nunez house. “It’s weird, I can’t help but think he… and other Changelings, aren’t all bad. If it wasn’t for NotEnrique warning us, I don’t know if we would have gotten out of there.” I sighed, patting the top of NotEnrique’s head.

 Eemeli nodded, watching the exchange, “He could’ve run off without warning us, could’ve taken off into the vents right away too if he wanted. I think he wanted to help.” He stated easily, poking at NotEnrique’s feet. Letting out a soft chuckle when the small Changeling kicks out a bit in his sleep.

 I smiled softly, pausing outside of the house, “I’m glad he did.” I nudged NotEnrique’s time, waking him. “This is your stop… thank you NotEnrique, for helping tonight.” I smiled at him setting him down.

 NotEnrique yawned, whacking softly at my hand, “Don’t go thanking my Witch. You were my way outta there.” He said, trying, and failing, to play it off.

 I giggled ruffling the hair on his head. “Whatever you say squishy.” I grinned, waving as he climbs up to the second floor, sliding into the nursery window easily.

 Eemeli chuckled, leading me back to my house. “Squishy?” He asked, “Isn’t he made of stone?”

 I laughed, nodding, “He is, it’s kind of a joke from right before finding out he’s a Changeling. In his human form, I called him a squish when I found him.” I explained.

 Eemeli snorted a laugh, “I’m starting to think you’re the reason he stayed to help.” He pointed out.

 I shrugged, smiling softly as we stopped on the porch, Mr. Strickler walking out with what looked like leftover pie. “Ah, Mr. Strickler, have a good night.” I smiled up at him.

 He paused, looking between Eemeli and me for a moment before smiling, “You as well Young Mordred. Eemeli.” He nodded to us before heading to his car, taking off.

 Eemeli’s gaze following the car for a moment, “I should probably head back, my uncle might get worried if I’m out too late.” He smiled, hugging me quickly before taking off down the road.

 I shook my head, entering the house to see mom and Jim arguing, Draal had snuck up the stairs behind mom, holding out an unconscious Claire by the ankle. Jim nodded for him to go back down as he and mom finished their argument.

 I quickly ran down to the basement as soon as mom left. Draal was still holding Claire up by the ankle. “What is doing here?” I hissed out, Jim quickly joining us.

 Draal shrugged, “She came in through the window, I tried to stay hidden, then she sneezed. I said “gesundheit,” she screamed, and then walked into the pipe,” he explained quickly.

 I groaned, realizing we couldn’t wait for her to wake up. The last thing we needed was another person getting attacked.

 Jim sighed, showing Draal how to hold Claire so the blood wouldn’t rush to her head. “Can you two get her home? I’m not allowed anywhere near her house.” He asked, looking from Draal to me.

 I nodded, heading through the steel door into the sewers, heading for the Nunez house again. Draal followed behind me, eyes trained on the back of my head.

 Feeling his gaze burn into my head, I quickly turned to face him, “What?” I asked, trying not to snap, our fight earlier still fresh in my mind.

 Draal sighed, slowing his pace, but continued to walk. “You… asked if the imp” he cut himself off, taking a deep breath, “if this Strickler, had a choice in helping Gunmar. I do not know.” He finally answered, holding his hand up as I went to reply. “All I know is that attacked Jim in your home while your mom was present, he tried to convince Jim to hand over the Amulet. If that had happened, he could open the bridge…” He trailed off, collecting his thoughts, “he mentioned wanting to protect you both.” He stated, finally dropping his hand.

 I frowned, eyes locked on the ground, “Draal, all I know of Troll culture is what I can read about in the tombs Vendel send home with me. I know Changelings have done terrible things but… they’ve done some good too.” I nod to an exit, “I’ll explain when we drop her off,” I said, climbing up to the surface. As we approached the house, I could see NotEnrique heading out of his window again. I frowned, watching him leave before pointing to Claire’s window.

 Draal was able to climb up and deposit Claire on her bed. Once he was back on the street, I let out a sigh, glancing at where NotEnrique had gone. “I’m not so sure about Strickler anymore…” I frowned looking up as Draal as we headed into the trees, staying out of sight, “He had something NotEnrique called an Antramonstrum in his office.”

 Draal’s head snapped to me. He quickly rushed over, checking for injuries. Worry etched over his face. “How are you not dead?” He asked softly, holding onto my arms after checking them for injuries.

 “NotEnrique’s to thank for that. He warned us about it. When it began to chase us, he was able to lead us away from it long enough for Blinky and Arrrgh to use a Fetch to seal it in the Darklands.” I explained, smiling at how worried he was, even though we had just fought.

Sighing in relief, Draal pulled me into a tight hug. “I must… thank the… NotEnrique, then.” He finally got out.

 I hugged him tight, “I’m sorry… for snapping earlier, it’s just… after reading about them and seeing how scared NotEnrique was at being found out, I feel like some of them don’t want to fight. Some might even want to help.” I explained.

 Draal nodded, picking me as he headed to the house again. “You said your thoughts on Strickler changed.”

 Curling up in his hold I nodded against his chest. “He knew we were going to be there. No matter what he told Jim, he tried to kill us with that thing.” I sighed, frustrated, and angry.

 Draal hummed, changing direction to go further into the forest. Draal allowing me to vent over my confusion with the Changelings we knew. After NotEnrique had helped keep me safe, he was open to the idea that not all Changelings were Gunmar’s tools. We kept going into the early hours of the morning before I tired out. Falling asleep as Draal turned back towards home.

 Eemeli’s P.O.V.

I smirked walking into Strickler’s office, eyeing the sling holding his arm. “Looks like the Trollhunter did a number on you.” I stood next to NotEnrique, leaning back on the desk.

 Strickler hummed, looking over the mess they left his office in. “I see the Antramonstrum didn’t work. Though it’s for the best. We wouldn’t want to lose valuable assets.” He smirked, seeing the page the book of Ga-Huel was turned to.

 “Speaking of, you should have heard River’s fight with Draal, never thought I’d see her angry.” I snickered, gaining Strickler and NotEnrique’s interest. “River’s been reading up on us. Looks like she found the part where we’re all kidnapped Trolls being forced to do Gunmar’s dirty work. She snapped at Draal for threatening to kill you or tear you apart for information tonight.” I explained, a smirk growing at the stunned expression of NotEnrique and Strickler. “Even had the guts to ask if any of this was your choice.”

 NotEnrique frowned a bit, eyes locked on the desk as I told them about the fight. “She’s a stupid fleshbag witch, all that caring is going to get her killed.” He growled out. Standing, he stretched before heading to the window. “I have to get back, past my bedtime.” He grumbled heading out.

 Strickler smirked. “First the amulet, now this?” He pulled out the Amulet, grinning. “Today went very well.” He waved his hand dismissively and I took that as my cue to head out.

 On my way out I ran into NotEnrique, “Squishy is it?” I asked, teasing him about River’s pet name for him.

 He growled, turning to face me. “So what?” He asked defensively.

 I shrugged, walking past him. “It’s a routine job. Don’t get distracted.”

 NotEnrique snarled behind me, “Ain’t nothing routine about that one,” he said. Heading back to the Nunez house.

 I paused, thinking over the events of the night. River had defended not just Strickler, but all Changelings, when she snapped at Draal. She was patient and considerate towards NotEnrique during their mission tonight. She even thanked NotEnrique for helping them after everything. I sighed watching the sky for a few moments. River was not a routine job. That was becoming painfully obvious.

[eyesfixedonthesun22]

Black Coffee

Summary: Coffee aroma surrounds you as you prepare for a long day of studying in your favorite coffee shop. Your focus is shattered by a handsome stranger demanding a very large favor-pretend to be his girlfriend.  Pairing: Bucky x Female Reader Warning(s): Cursing. Innocent fluff. Bucky’s eyelashes. Word Count: 1,383 Beta Reader: My darling honey bun, @supersoldiersruined-me Notes: Congrats Christina, @stuck-y-together, on 1K!!!! My prompt was “I was trying to get my morning coffee, not get kidnapped by some strange man.” Prompt is bolded. Age wise, reader is a grad student or older. No cradle robbing, Bucky. Coffeeshop image credit to @saturday-studying. All other images from google.  

You’ve been at Quay 4, your favorite coffee shop, for about a half hour now. It’s taken you this long to set up your study space exactly how you need. You managed to snag a booth located near the giant windows; lending you a gorgeous view of the Brooklyn Bridge and the East River. Your laptop is plugged into the socket, your textbook lays open, highlighters and colored pens organized in rainbow order, and your notebook open to a fresh page. Set off to the side is a large coffee alongside an equally large cinnamon roll. You were ready for the long haul. This exam was still nearly a week away but you wanted to be prepared. Nothing but focus in your future.

You scowl at the window adjacent to your booth. A man was peering inside, effectively shattering your already shaky focus. What did this guy want? His face disappears from the window and you look back the blank page ready to begin.

The bell on the shop door dings. It’s staring man. He’s attempting to catch his breath while searching around frantically. Curious as you may be, it’s study time. You pick up your favorite pen when you feel the stare. Scratch that. You feel the presence. Someone is standing at the edge of your table; anxiously shifting their weight from one foot to another.

“I need your help.” You look up to see the same man who was creeping in the window. You lower your pen ready to chew him out and he takes it as permission to sit down. Not just down. In your half of the booth, annoyingly close to you. “Follow my lead and I’ll make it up to you.”

The door to the shop dings once more and the strange man’s arm shoots into the air to beckon the two men over to the booth. Your booth.

“So this is the girlfriend, Buck.”

“This is her!” He throws his arm around you.

Your brows raise on their own volition. Your face must be too shocked for Mr. Stranger’s desire cause he nudges your foot gently under the table before continuing.

“Sorry hun. I know I forgot to mention Sam and Steve were coming when you asked to get coffee. Didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“No I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have crowded the table with all my study materials if I knew we’d have company…” You pause unsure. “Babe?”

It didn’t suit him as a pet name. You made a mental note to choose a different one next time. What was his name again? Buck? Not sure if that’s a full name or a nickname. I guess you could work with it. Bucky suggests Sam and Steve get coffee, adding his own black coffee to their order so he can help you pack up. You groan internally having got it perfectly arranged only a short while ago.

“Details. My name is James but I go by Bucky. My favorite color is red. We started dating a month ago. We’re taking things slow ‘cause I have a fear of rejection. We met….we met…crap.”

“Here at the coffee shop?” You offer. You genuinely surprise yourself. You feel compelled to help Mr. Stranger. No. Not a stranger. Bucky. “For someone with a fear of rejection, selecting a random stranger to fake date seems a bit bold.”

He’s stunned but chuckles lightly. You tell him your name, nickname, and corresponding details. “I bought you a cinnamon roll and had it sent to your table asking you to chat.”

“You’re good at this. Fake date often?”

At this point, Sam and Steve have gathered their drinks from the counter and are headed back to the booth. You lean over and whisper in Buckys ear “it pays the bills”.

He’s laughing in earnest when the pair sit down. They slide a bowl sized mug of black coffee over to Bucky. “

“Where’s the sugar?”

“You said a black coffee.”

Steve brings his fingers to his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s clearly heard the ensuing argument one too many times before.

“Tin man, if you want sugar it’s not a black coffee.”

“Yes it is! Sugar doesn’t change the color.”

“Just order a coffee with no cream add sugar.”

“They don’t add enough!”

Steve delicately spoons the whipped cream off his own mug and eats it while checking the weather on his phone. His disinterest in the argument at hand is comical. He ignores his friends not unlike a stoned faced parent. You’re still reeling at how passionate your “boyfriend” was about black coffee.

“Fine I’ll go get the sugar.” Bucky huffs. Sam coughs lightly, something sounding oddly like diabetes, and pulls his hand from his jacket pocket dropping what must be 30 packets of sugar onto the table.

“If you had the packets already why-”

“Enough you two. We came here to meet Buck’s girlfriend not force her to listen to us bicker.”

Your hand rests on the table, toying with the edge of a napkin. Bucky scoots his hand over from his side of the table to rest gently atop yours; fingers gently intertwining.

You look over to him but the words die in your throat the second you meet his eyes. You hadn’t had a chance to get a good look at him since this whole ordeal began.

He was handsome, ruggedly so. He has full cheeks and even fuller lips. His eyelashes are annoyingly long; the kind women curse men for. He’s wearing a plain white t shirt with a light bomber jacket thrown on top to combat the light breeze today. His shoulder length hair fell in shiny waves. You were close enough to feel comforted by the wafts of his body wash. He was expressive with his eyebrows. Wait. No. He was raising them in a slightly panicked inquisitive expression.

“Doll? Sam asked you a question.”

“God you two are gross already. Already drowning in each others eyes.”

A staccato beeping interrupts your assessment of Bucky and returns functional ability to your brain. Steve’s brows knit together as he reads a message off his phone.

“Nat needs us to help set up for that thing tonight, Sam.”

“Damn. I hoped we were off the hook.”

“It would appear not.” Steve’s standing, throwing on his jacket. “Sorry we didn’t get to chat more hun. We’ve been dying to meet you.”

“More like didn’t believe you exist-” Sam huffs as he’s met with a sharp elbow to his ribs. He feigns hurt before his expression changes to one of mischief. “Barnes, why don’t you bring your girl tonight?”

“No!” Bucky shouts abruptly. “I mean, she has an exam to study for. School comes first and all.”

Sam snatches a piece of paper off your stack of study materials. “Schedule says the exam is in four days. You think you can take the night off for some fun?”

You stutter responses with three pairs of eyes staring you down before gaining composure. “Studies have shown study breaks improve information retention… ”

Steve smiles genuinely while Sam raises a smug brow at Bucky. “Great it’s settled. See you tonight, guys.”

Once the two men are out of sight, Bucky collapses back into the booth next to you, jostling his coffee dangerously. His head is cradled in his hands as he mutters to himself.  You sip your own beverage waiting for an explanation but none comes.

“Darling?” you say in mock voice to get his attention. He startles as if you had teleported into the booth.

“You have to come tonight. If you don’t, Sam will never let me hear the end of it.”

“Hold the phone, dude. I was just trying to get my morning coffee, not get kidnapped by some strange man…” An attractive and pleasant smelling strange man.

“Let’s not exaggerate, doll. A rooftop barbeque with the Avengers is hardly kidnapping.”

Your eyes go wide. You know who the strange cute man is. How did you not see it before? If this was Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, they had to have been-shit.

“I had coffee with Captain America and Falcon. Cool cool cool.”

Bucky smirks at your nonchalance. “Does that mean you’re willing go eat ribs with me tonight?”

“I guess I could use a study break.”