#you aren't ready for the concoctions i have in store

[teamred]

obvious

✩‌ merchant!qimir x acolyte!reader | fluff | angst | humor | 2.3k

SUMMARY | during an evening of drinking with qimir, he strangely asks if you've ever thought about dating your master.

WARNINGS | kissing, drinking, implications of a spicy time post-story

RATING | teen+

NOTES | again this is probably outside of canon but all i can say is ilq (i love qimir)

///

In the lower level of Qimir’s newest target of a store invasion, several drunken bottles of alcohol and used shot glasses clutter the front counter. You sit across from him on a high stool, as if you were a customer to his bartending. 

Which wasn’t quite far off, since he was the one who poured and bought everything for you tonight. Qimir had called for a celebration; you had successfully raided a small village nearby, seizing all valuable goods and leaving no witnesses behind. You did it for yourself, but also for your anonymous master–the same one Qimir serves. 

While you are your master’s dedicated pupil, Qimir’s tasked with being your resourceful guide. He follows you across the galaxy, always having anything you need at your disposal and knowing where to go, who to find, and how to concoct everything from anything.

Sure, he may be clumsy and occasionally overly inquisitive, but you’ve grown to like him. 

So much that you're retelling the time when a female Gungan tried to fight you in a cantina on Tatooine.

“And so, it turned out they thought I was the one who stole her ex-boyfriend, but it was the human at the table next to mine!”

Qimir breaks into a smile and nearly spits out the lomin ale in his mouth. After a fit of coughing and swallowing his drink, he shakes his head fondly. He seems truly amused and fully relaxed, though perhaps mostly due to the alcohol.

A few beats pass. It's a comfortable silence at first. 

But then he starts playing with the stem of his bottle, and the air slowly begins to shift. It shifts entirely when he asks the next question–

“Why aren't you like this around him?” 

Him referring to your shared master. 

The mixture of spicebrew, lomin ale, Corellian wine, and whatever else you had has lowered your filter completely. You answer frankly, folding out your fingers to list the reasons. 

“Firstly, he needs to get me drunk. Secondly, he’s not you, Qimir. And third, disregarding everything I just said: how do you know I'm not?”

“Am I wrong?” he presses, his eyes fixed on you as he raises an eyebrow and takes another swig of his drink.

“I mean, if he eventually shows his face to me, maybe I could. But until then…” 

Nonchalantly, you lift a shoulder and down the rest of what’s in your cup. After finishing, you lean back onto the counter, resting your chin in your upturned palm, and wait for him to fill your cup again. 

And so he does, but Qimir becomes uncharacteristically pensive. Eyes focused on serving you, rather than on you. After pouring your drink, his playfulness with the bottle turns into a tight-fisted grip. Maybe drunk Qimir was more somber. Quiet.

“Maybe…” His voice drops to a lower, deeper register than you’re used to, his eyes avoiding yours as his mouth tightens. An index finger rhythmically taps against his bottle, like a dooming countdown. “Maybe he’s not sure if you’re loyal enough to see his face.” 

The sudden slamming of your cup against the counter breaks his demeanor, and he’s back to being his usual, easily-startled self. 

“Well, that frustrates the shit out of me because I respect him!” you cry, almost yelling at him. 

Qimir’s gaze sharpens, giving you his entire attention, and you stare back resolutely. Readying yourself, as if confiding in him might reach your master’s ears, wherever he may be. Hell, he probably was listening with a device somewhere on Qimir, on you, or within the store.  

“I obey him. I've killed for him. I’d do anything for him,” your voice slightly wavers, but you push on. “I am literally devoted to him with every breath in my body.” 

There’s a sting in your eyes, but you refuse to let yourself show weakness, even if it’s just Qimir in front of you. Bringing the cup to your mouth, you let the burn scald your throat, drowning any trace of sadness or frustration. 

You chug for some time. After a while, Qimir lifts a hand, but you abruptly stop drinking and interject with a tired chuckle and small smile; he awkwardly drops his hand. 

The serious moment passes swiftly with a twinkle in your eye. You silently thank the alcohol for that.

“Although, maybe that's half a lie.”

In the corner of your vision, you catch the intrigued quirk in Qimir’s eyebrow, along with a flicker of anger. Barely noticeable, but it’s there, and you wonder why he would be angry.

You waggle a finger. “Keep this between us, but”—you lean in closer and drop your voice to a whisper—“I'm probably more devoted to you than to him.”

You exchange a glance, and the expression on his face shifts from seriousness to amusement, the flicker of anger completely dissipated. He mirrors your earlier stance, resting his chin in his palm. 

“That's only because I help you all the time,” he says, granting you a soft smile that reaches his eyes. 

This is a rare moment from Qimir, so you try your best to commit it to memory. Remembering his warm glow, the crinkles around his eyes, and how close he is to you. So close that the hint of the alcohol in his breath brushes your face, but it’s not as strong as you thought it would be.

“Well, there's that…” you admit, nodding, and you break eye contact as you say–

“But you're also my friend, Qimir.”

You barely breathe the last few words out in a whisper, almost as if you were ashamed to say it. But you aren’t–worry merely runs rampant as you fear rejection or something of a similar shade, despite it being just a platonic confession. 

“I am?” 

His reaction causes you to peer back at him. He draws his head back with a tilt, and you’ve never seen him so puzzled before. There’s a brief pause as he gives it some thought, his eyebrows furrowing in contemplation.

Then, he nods his head and his lips curl into a crooked, almost cocky, grin. 

“Huh. I guess I am.”

You clutch your chest in jest and muster your best puppy-eyed frown. “Ouch, if I knew this relationship was that one-sided, I would’ve asked him for another one of his followers to replace you.” 

The glimmer in his eyes reads as good-natured, but the blatant flexing of his grip against the edge of the counter says otherwise. 

“You wouldn't.”   

You push back, jutting out your chin and getting close to him again with a flash of a smirk. 

“Oh, I absolutely would.”

You stare at each other, holding your ground. 

But then he breaks the little game when he slightly drags his lower lip between his teeth, followed by a fleeting glance towards your mouth.

Your breathing hitches. 

In an instant, the moment shatters when Qimir clears his throat and pulls back.  

“Do you…” Qimir begins hesitantly, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing a random spot on the counter. He inhales deeply, almost as if he’s steeling himself, then continues, “Have you ever thought you and him could be, like, something more?”

“You mean…” You squint, searching for the right words. “...have I ever thought about dating my master?” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

You raise an eyebrow and stare blankly at him. 

“You've met him, right? We’re talking about the same guy?”

Before he answers, he sips again from his bottle. You become entranced by Qimir’s Adam’s apple as it bobs with each glug. Maybe these thoughts were being filtered through beer goggles, but if Qimir wanted to know about your current ranked dating choices, he'd probably be at the top of your list. 

A soft pop sounds as his lips detach from it. The word kissable flashes through your mind. 

“I mean, I know he's not really the talkative type but–”

“But what if he's butt-ass ugly?” you blurt out in a screech, pressing your hands into your cheeks in your drunken state.

“He is not butt-ass ugly,” Qimir cuts in, more defensively than you expect. 

You drop your hands and chortle loudly, so much that it echoes throughout the store. In disbelief, you grin ear to ear. 

“I thought you said you haven't seen him before!” you say, holding out an arm. 

“I—I didn't. Haven't! I haven’t,” he stammers, raising a hand and shaking his head. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “But why must you assume he's ugly?”

You groan, shaking closed fists and tapping them to your forehead. “Why else wouldn’t he take off that stupid mask?” 

You glance up, seeing Qimir’s nostrils flare as he opens his mouth, but you quickly cut him off. 

“And why would I like him that way anyway? All he does is just bark orders and share wise, yet oddly cryptic, phrases.” 

“Hey, so do I,” Qimir retorts, flicking the tip of your nose with his finger. The force he uses makes your nose sting a bit, but you’re sure he didn’t mean to flick you that roughly. In response, you ruffle your nose petulantly. 

You could definitely get used to being like this with Qimir more often. 

“Yeah, but you’re not as cryptic,” you point out, “and he’d be lucky if he was half as handsome as you, Qimir.”

You lightly touch his arm, expecting him to bask in your compliment, but he catches you off guard with a chuckle instead. 

“Why are you laughing at my compliment?” you ask, somewhat hurt.

“I'm just enjoying your company, my”—he hesitates for a second, as if catching himself from saying something else, before meeting your gaze—“my friend.” 

The way he says friend hangs in the air, carrying an unspoken weight. He shakes his head, as if brushing off a thought, and laughs awkwardly. “I’ve gotta get used to that.”

Surprisingly, he continues to dwell on the subject of you and your master. “I mean, if you really think about it, the guy's probably lonely. Probably also likes you a lot more than he lets on and–”

“Okay, stop.” You hold both hands out. “Why are you trying to set me up with him?” You gasp, “Oh, my god–is he your brother?” 

“Wow, time flies by so fast!” Qimir exclaims dramatically, quickly getting up from his stool and practically tripping on his own feet. “It’s getting late, and I’m gonna head to bed. Good night!” 

In the blink of an eye, he’s already darting upstairs to his temporary bedroom. 

“Qimir, answer me!” you call out. “Is he a distant cousin? You must’ve seen him before if he’s related to you.” 

“Good night, my friend!” he hollers back.

“Qimir, get back here!”

“Sweet dreams! And drink some water before you go to bed!” 

Even in moments like these, Qimir still manages to have the final say, his words always laced with the utmost care for you.

///

A few hours go by, the moonlight shining strongly in the night sky. In the comfort of your makeshift bed nestled in one of the corners of the store, you toss and turn aimlessly. Your mind replays everything with Qimir from the last few hours.

And then realization hits you like a sack of duracrete bricks.

You bolt upright up from the bed and switch between muffling a scream in your pillow and smacking it against your face. 

How could you have been so blind to how obvious it all was?

Throwing aside your covers, you carefully and quietly tiptoe upstairs. 

At the top of the stairs, with the help of a few burning candles nearby, you peek at the sight of Qimir snoring softly on his side, arms flopped in different directions; it warms your heart.

You approach and take a seat on the empty side of his bed, summoning courage to gently trace the contours of his face, following the sharp lines of his jaw. He stirs awake moments later, turning to face you directly. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Qimir mumbles groggily. He rubs his eyes. “Everything all right?” 

“Qimir, can you pass a message onto my master?” you ask urgently. 

“Right now?” he groans in annoyance, sitting up. “Can't it wait until morning?” 

“No, I'm sure you can pass it on now. It’s a pretty simple message.” 

You lean in. It’s a quick kiss as your hand rests on his arm. It has to be quick, or else you might change your mind. 

Plush lips press against yours. It’s still and tense for a beat, and then he replies with a slight kiss back. He’s the one who breaks away first, but he leans his forehead against yours.

“Uh, I… You want me to kiss him?” he asks in confusion. 

You slide your hands to the nape of his neck.

“If you mean kissing yourself, then yes, Master.” 

Like flipping a switch, Qimir’s demeanor transforms into something entirely else. His presence intensifies, exuding confidence and strength you’re unused to. His eyes darken, locking onto yours with a gaze that can penetrate your soul. 

His rich, deep voice returns from before, now tinged with authority.

“Took you long enough, my acolyte.”  

This Qimir—your master—moves swiftly with urgency. His grip on your body is firm, almost possessive. His kisses are passionate, his tongue exploring your mouth with fervor. 

“Told you I'm not ‘butt-ass ugly,’” he mumbles, almost growling, between kisses. You giggle, but your giggle quickly turns into a moan as he presses his body firmly into yours.  

“And my mask isn’t stupid. I'll have you know it saved me so many–”

You silence your master with another kiss, focusing on the present and pushing aside debates that could be saved for later.

For now, all you want is to remain in the comfort of his bed, letting the night truly begin, marking the beginning of what your master and you have unknowingly long awaited for. 

[squoxle]

🪻Enhypen x Love Tropes ~ OT7

ʚɞ pairing: Enhypen!bf x Reader!gf | ʚɞ wc: 1.8k ~ 200-300 wc per member | ʚɞ summary: Each member with a love troupe (all happy endings) | ʚɞ cw: it’s pure fluff so have fun 😊🩷

𝙷𝚎𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚗𝚐 ~ 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚝 𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚂𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 ~ 𝚠𝚌 𝟸𝟶𝟶

How you met: You were at the only video rental store in your city when you saw a tall, cute, dark-haired man enter. You came here weekly and had never seen him before. You quickly averted your eyes after accidentally meeting his. You continued to walk around and pick out a few movies, hoping that he didn't notice the way you kept stealing glances at him.

The moment you fell in love: "Oh wow! That movie is one of my favorites," he said as you both reached for the same movie case. "Heh, I've never seen it before," you chuckled in response. "Well, it's really good. I think you'll like it," he smiled, which made you smile. "There aren't many places around like this anymore," he added, scanning the room with his eyes. "Yea, that's why I love this place so much. I come here almost every week," you smiled, thinking back to the first time you stumbled upon this place. "I'm Heeseung, and you are?" "I'm Y/N." "Maybe we should hang out sometime. Since we seem to share a love for the classics," he smirked.

How it ended: You two grew closer, started a relationship, and ended up moving in together after 4 months--since you guys were practically always around each other anyway.

𝙹𝚊𝚢 ~ 𝚂𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 ~ 𝚠𝚌 𝟸𝟶𝟶

How you met: The fact that your parents were best friends, you and Jay grew up very close together. What some might see as an almost arranged relationship, you saw as fate. You and Jay were destined to be together and make the best power couple ever known in history.

The moment you fell in love: You had liked Jay for as long as you could remember, but you noticed that you fell in love with him one day when the two of you were assigned on kitchen duty. Jay’s father said that cooking the big meal for the company meeting that night was a way to “build character.” You went in the kitchen to help him out, but there was something about the way he looked today.

You couldn’t help but to stare. “Heh, what are you looking at weirdo?” “Huh!? Oh sorry,” you chuckled nervously. You quickly averted your gaze back to the recipe book and you concoction in progress. However, now you felt eyes on you. You looked over your shoulder to see Jay looking at you. “Now look who’s staring weirdo,” you playfully mocked him. “I was-ah! I just,” he stammered, which made you giggle. The two of you ended up having a mini make out session where you both confessed your feelings for each other.

How it ended: You parents were very excited about the relationship between you two. They trusted the two of you to do what was right for the companies once you inherited them and gave you their blessing to marry, when you were ready of course.

𝙹𝚊𝚔𝚎 ~ 𝙵𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 ~ 𝚠𝚌 𝟹𝟶𝟶

How you met: You witnessed the moment Jake’s girlfriend aggressively dumped him. “Come on babe please,” Jake whined as he tried to hug his girlfriend. “Ugh! Get the fuck off of me. We’re over! Get that in your head,” she scolded, pushing Jake away. You could see the tears swelling in his eyes as his girlfriend continued to brutally reject him. “I lov—“ Jake was cut off mid-sentence with a slap across his face. “You need to grow the fuck up and stop acting like a child all the time. It’s embarrassing,” she sneered before walking away.

“Hey can you do me a favor? I know we barely know each other, but I promise after this we can go right back to existing on different planets,” the teary eyed Jake asked you. “Umm…what is it?” “I just need you to be my fake girlfriend until I win my ex back.”

The moment you fell in love: You and Jake were on another one of your fake dates. Typically you guys went wherever his ex and her friends were, but this time he really got to see how snobbish and rude his ex was in comparison to you. She constantly ridiculed him on his childlike personality, but you embraced it. Jake kissed you for the very first time and his ex saw the whole thing which made her a little jealous. In her mind Jake was being a completely different guy with you than he ever was with her and she envied that.

How it ended: Jake’s plan worked, his ex was officially jealous and wanted him back. In fact, she had already tried a few times to steal him away from you. However, Jake had already fallen in love with you and was no longer interested in getting his ex-girlfriend back.

𝚂𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚗 ~ 𝙷𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜 ~ 𝚠𝚌 𝟸𝟶𝟶

How you met: It was your second year of high school and you were going to your first foreign language class, you decided to take French since it was different than what you were used to. The teacher, Mrs. Moreau, thought it was a great idea to put everyone in pairs and you were paired up with Sunghoon Park. You found out that you actually shared a couple other classes with him--Math, English, and P.E.

The moment you fell in love: It was towards the end of your sophomore year and Sunghoon confessed his feelings for you on your way out. "I like you, Y/N. Like...a lot," his face was bright red and his gaze was fixated on the ground. "I like you too Sunghoon," you smiled back. "Well, we're about to be on summer vacation for the next few months...so here's my number. This way we can stay in touch you know," Sunghoon smiled, pulling out a piece of paper with his number written down on it. "Thanks," you smiled back.

How it ended: You guys dated for two years, before switching to a long-distance relationship in which you reconnected in college.

𝚂𝚞𝚗𝚘𝚘 ~ 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜 ~ 𝚠𝚌 𝟹𝟶𝟶

How you met: You and Sunoo met in elementary. It was the first day of 4th grade and you and him bonded over your love for mint chocolate chip ice cream. You always loved how cheerful he was and that he was the most reliable person you knew.

The moment you fell in love: You had developed feelings for Sunoo a while ago, but constantly ignored them for the reason that this whole idea was like taboo. Dating your best friend was like dating your brother. That was a total no go and you suppressed all romantic emotions...well until you went to your first highschool party and joined a stupid game of spin the bottle.

Neither one of you'd had your first kiss yet, so it seemed like fate when the bottle landed on the two of you. Sunoo leaned in to kiss you. It wasn't much, just a simple smooch, but that little kiss ruined everything. Now you couldn't resist those feelings you had buried deep down. You started to distance yourself from him from that day on, and your friendship slowly faded away.

How it ended: It had been about 2 months since the night of that party, and this was the first time you and Sunoo had spoken in weeks. "Did I do something wrong?" Sunoo asked. "No...I-I just--" "You just what huh? Was it because we kissed? It was, wasn't it. If you don't like me that's all you had to say--" you cut off Sunoo's rant with a kiss. "I've loved you for a long time Sunoo, I was just scared to ruin our friendship. And I ended up ruining it anyway." "I love you too, Y/N. Don't ever leave me again," he said, wrapping you in his arms.

𝙹𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚠𝚘𝚗 ~ 𝙴𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜 ~ 𝚠𝚌 𝟹𝟶𝟶

How you met: You had started taking ballroom dance classes at a studio in your city. On the first day of class, the dance instructor wanted to pair everyone up according to their skill level. "Okay, I want you all to line up against that wall and as I call your name I want you to copy me," the dance instructor said as all of the students obediently followed his commands. You watched as Jungwon went up for his turn, right before you. It was obvious that he was talented, but because you were the last one called you had the advantage of hearing everyone else's critiques, so you knew exactly what to do to perfect your movements. "Great job everyone, especially Miss Y/N. All of you should take a page out of her book...Jungwon, you'll be her partner. Usually the male lead is better than the female lead. However, since that is not the case here, she will guide you to perfection." You watched as Jungwon sneered at the director's comment. From that moment on, you two were sworn enemies.

The moment you fell in love: You two had been dancing for 3 months now, and the instructor had finally had enough of your cattiness. "If you two don't straighten up, you won't step a single foot on that stage. Get it together!" It took some time, but you and Jungwon were able to overcome your rivalry and you actually ended up having a little crush on him.

How it ended: At the end of your dance recital, Jungwon lifted you up and kissed you. Your eyes widened in surprise. "Ah sorry, I guess I got a little too excited," He chuckled nervously. You two eventually started dating shortly after that.

𝙽𝚒𝚔𝚒 ~ 𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍’𝚜 𝙱𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 ~ 𝚠𝚌 𝟹𝟶𝟶

How you met: You went over to your friend’s house for the first time ever. “Beware of my older brother. He’s annoying as fuck. Trust me,” she said as she gave you a tour around her house. “Don’t worry, he’s not home right now so I can show you his room real quick,” she continued as she opened the door to her brother’s room. “Since he’s always touching my shit, I come in here every now and then to get my revenge.” You watched as she rearranged a few things in his room.

The moment you fell in love: “Hey! Get the hell out of my room before I smash this bottle over your head!” A voice startled you and your friend in the middle of her “redecorating.” It was her older brother, Niki. “Whatever, Niki,” she rolled her eyes. “I was already leaving this dump,” she added as she grabbed your hand and led you away. After leaving his room, she noticed the dazed look you had on your face.

“Uh uh, no way. My brother is off limits. The last thing I wanna see is his lips all over you. He’s gonna treat you like shit anyway. I feel bad for any girl that likes him.” Hearing that shattered you fantasy for the moment, but you had to at least try…right?

How it ended: You and Niki started a secret relationship behind your friend’s back. He actually wasn’t as bad of a guy as she painted him to be, but you knew she’d be pissed if she found out. “You know we gotta tell her, or one day she’s gonna find out on her own,” Niki said as you laid in bed next to him. “Yea, I know. But just not now okay.”

A/N: If anyone wants a full version of one of these just let me know and I'll work on it :)

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @sussyjake @pinapplefntacupss @addictedtohobi @chaenqen @woniewonwoo @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @nikisblkgf @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @ayoitsyagirlx @flrtniki

This Drabble was inspired by this TikTok:

[neon1blogs]

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[hufflesmonsters]

New Beginnings

A/N: hi, just dropping in to say I’m writing again >:D enjoy this slow burn. Also, surprise, it’s not a lizard man story though I do have one in the works so there is that.

~*~*~*~

Torren swung the ax down, splitting the log in two. Sweat beaded his brow as the sun bore down on him. He stuck the ax down in the wood stump and stood, wiping away the sweat with the back of his hand as he looked up at the sky. Just past noon, he’d have to get a move on if he was going to be on time for the kings summon. If he even wanted to take the job, whatever it was. If King Richard the second wished to hire a mercenary, it surely couldn’t be for anything fun. He clearly didn’t want to waste his own men for this, which meant that Torren was likely going to die during his job. 

And yet… the money he would get if he lived. He could retire, and finally live his dream of being the towns hermit to its fullest potential. As in, he only ever comes into town on stormy nights to buy ten kegs of ale and disappear for another three months. He grew his own food, hunted his own meat. Of course he kept messing up his tomato plants which meant he had to go into town to get those, but once he can figure it out then mission Hermit was a go. 

Stepping back, he grabbed the shirt he had draped over a nearby branch and walked towards his home. It was a nice little shack, one he’d built from scratch back when he was just a young boy. He had found the location by accident really, one minute he was being chased by his elder brothers, the next he was standing in a clearing with a pond and no one in sight for miles. At first it was just a cool hideout, somewhere he could go to get away from his crazy family and village bullies. But over the years he spent more and more time here, fixing it up and expanding the facilities. Next thing he knew he had completely moved in and claimed the land officially as his. 

Tossing the shirt on the couch, he walked into his bedroom and opened his dresser. He wasn’t sure what he’d need really, if this was a quick trip, and he hoped it was, he’d only really need two shirts, pants and his washing supplies. He already had his armor on, his swords were already by the door, polished and ready to go. He grabbed the shirts, extra pants, and his bag of supplies and stuffed them into a bag that he could tack onto his horses saddle. He’d grab a small coin purse for food and drink, which should cover him for his trip if he was careful. If he ran out of coin he’d only have to offer to chop wood for inns or something like that. 

As he turned to leave, bag in hand, he stopped by the kitchen and grabbed the oat bag for Sweetie. Most of the time she was content to just chew on grass, or even break into gardens and devour everything in sight. But oats, how she loved oats. 

The sun glared at him as he exited the house, he stopped briefly to lock it up before continuing down the path to the pasture. He could already see the giant grazing peacefully, black tail flicking away bugs as her dappled gray coat shone silver in the sunlight. She was truly a magnificent horse, holding a presence without even trying. She was a draft horse, one of the few capable of holding a full grown orc. And she was an absolute sweetie, hence, her name. 

“Got something for you, Sweetie,” Torren called as he entered the stall part of the pasture, grinning as her large head shot up, ears pointed forward and nostrils flaring. She smelled the oats like sharks smell blood in the water. With a graceful trot, she soon stood in front of him, towering over him by two feet. She bent down and nuzzled his cheek lovingly, snorting into his ear as he tried to shove her away. “We don’t have time to cuddle, girl. The King wants us at the castle by midday tomorrow.”

Sweetie snorted and stood upright again, flank twitching as she moved past him and into the tacking area. She was smart, smarter than most horses he’d met. She waited patiently as he began to saddle her, taking his time to secure the bag and oats in a place where she couldn’t get to it. She was tricksy, especially when it came to oats. But she also knew that those were a night time snack, something that he wouldn’t just give out unless they narrowly avoided death and allowed her to have something to chew on while he fought off a panic attack. 

He slid the reins over her head, patting her cheek as she opened her mouth to allow the rod to go in. Once she was fully outfitted, he lead her out of the stalls and closed the doors behind her. He swung up onto her back, and settled in. Gathering the reins, he clicked his tongue and set off down the dirt path that lead into town. The castle wasn’t too far, if he traveled nonstop today he’d be able to make it before midday tomorrow. Talk to the king, get the job done, and they’d be home before they knew it. 

~*~*~*~

Reaching the castle, Torren almost turned back around. He’d heard the rumors, how King Richard the second seemed to… overcompensate. The walls around the kingdom were large, but not as large as the damn castle. It towered over everything, almost as if it was a direct challenge to the gods. It was also very, very ugly with its pale brown coloring and lack of windows.

Showing his summons slip to the guards at the gate, he slowly made his way into the kingdom. It was another thing that irked him about King Richard, he was a man with “purist” beliefs. No race other than human was allowed past the walls without a proper invite. There was no trading, or apprenticeship allowed between humans and others. Which raised another red flag about this job offer, why would a king who hates his kind specifically ask him to complete a task for him. 

Torren tightened his fist on the reins as he watched the crowd wearily. He was going to die, either here or on this job if he wasn’t careful enough. The townsfolk weren’t bad, they looked more open to him than the guards did, but he didn’t dare interact with them. Not even to the young children who waved at him for the guards were watching him just as closely as he was watching them. 

Reaching the palace, he climbed off of Sweetie’s back and handed the reins over to the stable boy, a warning look in his eyes. If they mistreated her, he would rip all of their spines from their backs and beat them to death with it. Torren turned to look at the guards that approached him, back stiff as he towered over them. It was almost laughable, how they escorted him into the palace. 

The inside of the castle was just as ugly as the outside, the same beige walls, no decorations whatsoever. Whoever helped the king design this deserved to be publicly executed. Knights stood at every corner, some seemed to be standing at random places the further they got in. It was almost as if someone had just told them to pick a window and stand. The guards increased as they drew closer to the throne room, all of them standing at attention as they stopped in the middle. The guards beside him stood at attention, hands over heart and back straight. 

One of the guards announced the arrival of the king, everyone else following in salute. Torren looked up in expectation for the infamous King Richard the Second. Looking, looking, out of confusion, his gaze drew down to the floor when an irritated cough sounded. 

Oh, oh gods… 

Torren had to physically bite his tongue as he took in the sight of King Richard the second. No wonder the castle was so large and hideous, this man barely stood past a humans waist. He recalled an old nickname for the king, one that was immediately outlawed in the towns surrounding his kingdom. Little Dick Jr, the bane of all of Pufort. 

Torren knelt in front of the tiny king before any more offense could be given. And he had a lot to give at this moment in time. “Your grace,” he said stiffly. 

“Rise,” came the nasally response. “Do you know why I've called you here, orc?” Dick Jr asked once Torren towered over him again. 

“No, m'lord.” 

“I am a king without a queen, I'm basically a laughing stock in all the kingdoms!” Torren was willing to put money on it, that wasn't the reason why, but he knew better than to say that. “But there's a princess, locked away in a tower due east. And she will be my bride.” 

“And you wish me to retrieve her?” Torren asked for clarification. That didn't sound so hard at all. 

“Yes, it's a week’s journey all together, the roads are treacherous, but I'm sure you're no stranger to that,” again, nothing dangerous. “And then of course there's the active volcano and lava surrounding the castle and the dragon guarding it.” Ah, there it is. 

“I see, that doesn't sound too difficult for me,” Torren said, lying through his teeth. He could handle bandits, he could even sneak past a fucking dragon. But lava? An active volcano? That was something he'd never experienced before and wasn't too keen on the idea. 

“Perfect, we will discuss your payment when you get back. Godspeed, I wish to be married by the end of the month!” Little Dick Jr clapped his hands twice, alerting the guards that he was done talking to the half orc. 

Torren bowed his head and turned to make his leave. If he walked fast enough, he could get out of this city by the time the king reached the stairs. The guards had attempted to follow him out, but after they had to literally run to keep up they quit. It wasn't like he was going to do anything anyways. 

He eyed the gods awful bust of Dick jr. and contemplated tripping into it…

No, no. Not yet. 

~*~*~*~

If there were small miracles, Torren may have found one. Sweetie was in perfect condition when he had retrieved her, granted she had been touched by the stable hands and she made sure to voice her displeasure by biting his shirt and nearly throwing him into a mud pile. Sweetie was a sweetheart up until she had the wrath of the gods placed upon her. 

They had made their way out of the kingdom as fast as they could, and Torren was grateful that the guards didn’t give him an official escort out of the kingdom. Though, he had noticed several guards watching him carefully if he lingered too long in an area. Sure, there was traffic, but he was an orc, that was an unforgivable crime don’t you know? He half expected to get harassed when he passed by the front gate guards, but he was uncomfortably surprised to find that they did not. 

Oh, he was going to die on this mission. He should have gotten his affairs in order, who was going to take after Sweetie when he was gone? His brothers were half a kingdom away and his neighbors didn’t know he existed. Now, he was realizing as he traversed the hills, it was a bad time to be a hermit. Sweetie was smart though, maybe she’d find a new hermit to adopt and go about her life. 

Okay, maybe he should focus on traveling and not his soon to be untimely demise. 

Torren had just crested the hill overlooking the neighboring village when a shout came from his right. Looking over, he was wary to see an elf making his way over on his own sturdy steed. The elf seemed friendly enough, though most elves he met rarely stayed friendly. He paused and waited for the elf to approach, keeping a hand on his dagger just in case. 

The elf wasn’t bad looking, kind of handsome really if Torren was being honest with himself. Tall, a bit taller than most of the elves he met, golden skin that would make King Midas jealous. Long brown hair braided back in practicality rather than aesthetic, though it was a tad too ornate for pure practicality. He was dressed in simple leathers, with elven embroidery up around the shoulders, partially obscured by the cloak he wore. 

  “Hail, friend! I see you came from Pufort, a fine accomplishment for those of us considered too “unpure”,” the elf gave a laugh as he settled beside Sweetie. “Gavril, merc for hire,” he introduced himself as he put his hand out.

“Torren,” Torren said as he took the hand and shook it once. A mutual respect was given to the elf, some mercs stuck together, especially those around Pufort. The land wasn’t known for tolerance, mostly the guards fault, and so it wasn’t common to see many mercs who weren’t human. “What brings you to Pufort?”

“Ah, but the king, of course!” Gavril gave the man a bright smile before his smile dropped. “Better to talk here than in the village. Less ears.”

Torren felt his heart drop at the comment, dear gods was this the end? He hadn’t even made it out of Pufort yet! Gods, the amount of fun his brothers would have when they find out that he died in Pufort of all places… 

“I can see you’re freaking out, fear not, I am not going to say “long live Dickie”,” Gavril let out a laugh, and Torren didn’t appreciate it, like, at all. “He hired me a month back, and when I disappeared he chose to hire you.”

“And I should believe you, why?” Torren actually did believe him, it was just the dick move that Dickie would pull. But he was a distrustful man by nature, and so grilling the elf it was. 

“Why would I lie? Being here in of itself is a death sentence for me if one of his guards spots me,” Gavril shrugged. “No, I felt as if the job was far too… strange for me to complete without the full story.”

“And that story was?” Torren raised a brow as he shifted on Sweetie, who snorted in warning as she grazed. 

“The princess, she’s apparently the daughter of the neighboring kingdom, Aster. I did my research and went to them with the information on Richard. They don’t like the idea of an unsavory man such as him “rescuing” their daughter in such an unhonorable way,” Gavril leaned a bit as his voice dropped. “I was riding by, coming back from another business that I had to attend,  when I happened to have heard he had another summons, I thought it was only fair to let you know about it all.”

“And what, exactly, are you hoping to inform me of other than the princesses misfortunes?” Torren leaned slightly in despite himself. 

“I’m to meet another fellow, a minotaur by the name of Jardor. He was the princess's guard before she was imprisoned so she’d be more trusting of us. Her parents hired me to take her Aster instead of Pufort, and their offer is extended to any other mercenary hired by Richard.”

“And this is legitimate? How do you know they won’t cast you off to Richards' wrath once they have their daughter?” 

Gavril nodded as he sat upright. “A fair question, I, myself, found myself doubting it. However, I asked around their former employers and found that they were actually credible. I understand that you have no reason to believe me, but if you are curious you are more than welcome to come with me to meet up with Jardor.”

“And where is he?” Surely a minotaur would be noticeable around a place like Pufort.

“He was smart enough not to come to the welcoming land of Pufort,” Gavril said with a grin. “He’s in Halder’s Rest in the neighboring village, Stonewall, I believe.” 

“And you just happened to be riding by Pufort and saw me?” Torren raised a brow as he leaned back. 

Gavril let out a soft laugh. “Fair enough, I might have been lingering around to see what the little man’s reaction would have been.”

“How? You couldn’t have been allowed in the city.”

“It’s actually fairly easy to sneak in if you find the really dumb guards,” Gavril said with a smirk. “If you talk fast and use big words to explain away things, they simply just let you in.”

Torren shook his head, “very well. I’ll come with you to this Jardor, but I make no promises that I will join you.”

“Of course,” Gavril gave a bow to his head. “Now, what do you think are the odds that these kind folk will allow us to rest in their undoubtedly comfortable inn?”

“‘Us’?” Torren looked at the elf with furrowed brows. Surely he didn’t think they were going to travel to Halder’s Rest together, did he?

“Yes, ‘us’,” Gavril said with a raised brow. “Surely you didn’t think I’d just abandon you to these unwashed masses, did you?”

“Yes?” Torren wasn’t sure who he pissed off up there, but he was fairly sure he didn’t deserve this kind of forced upon companionship here. 

“Oh, my friend,” Gavril gave a sympathetic pout before clapping Torren on the shoulder. “You’re stuck with me.”

Gods help him.

~*~*~*~

Turns out, the good folk were not willing to rent out their plentiful rooms to two distinguished gentlemen like them. So, seeing as the guards started gathering around them once they exited, the duo had opted to camp out on the spacious planes outside of the village. Pro: it was a nice night out with the stars shining bright; con: there were wolves and they very much were eyeing them as a snack.

Luckily for them, the wolves found a rather unfortunate deer and left them alone for the rest of the night. After that, the sleeping got easier, though Torren still kept a hand on his dagger under his pillow. And if he noticed that Gavril did the same with his staff, well, he wasn’t going to be one to talk. 

The morning was a tense affair, Gavril had cooked and while it smelt delicious Torren wasn’t one for accepting food from strangers. But his mother also raised a gentleman with manners so he ate anyway. And it pissed him off more that it was, indeed, delicious in all honesty.

They set off not long afterwards, mounting their steeds and making their way to Stonewall, a village that was a good two hours away. Both Sweetie and Torren did their best to ride ahead of Gavril and his steed, Farren, however the two seemed to be professionals Thorn in his Side, for they stayed right on his heels, humming a stupid little song.

Torren really pissed off some of the gods. 

But, by the Grace of the gods, they finally made it to Halder's Rest with minimal spats. Or, "character building" in Gavril's mind. The vast difference between Aster's civilians and Pufort's was easily spotted. Where an inhuman was hard to see even just passing through in Pufort, it was hard to not see them in Aster. From vendors, to guards, to just a milk maiden lizard girl. 

It felt… welcoming. 

"Halder's Rest is just down the road,'' Gavril said as he led Farren though the bustling roads. 

Torren let him take the reins, not sure if he should run or not. He had no idea really what sort of situation he was walking into. One kingdom was going to be pissed off, that was for sure. Either Pufort or Aster, and he wasn’t sure which one was better. Aster wasn’t known for its military, sure it had it, but no one had seen it in action in well over a hundred years. They preferred to stay diplomatic in negotiations, and somehow it’s worked so far. And yet, he feared what Aster would do if King Richard the Seconded got his grubby little hands on their daughter. 

But another part feared what the King would do to him if he failed to deliver the princess. He wasn’t the first mercenary, and even Gavril admitted he was cheating death when he hung around Pufort waiting for Torren to leave. Pufort was well known for their military power. King Richard was always willing to fling a fleet at a neighboring kingdom, or hell, even his own people, if he felt there was even a hint of offense at him and his legitimacy of his rule. 

He should run, Torren realized. Like now, right now-

“Hey, there he is!” Gavril said as he pointed at the minotaur guard that stood outside the inn with his arms crossed.  “Jardor!”

Jardor looked up with irritation on his face. He was big, even for a minotaur and just as uniquely colored. Most minotaurs that Torren had come across were either brown or black with white colorations. But Jardor was a multi-colored minotaur, white based but he had russet, black, brown and gray mottled on the skin that was exposed through his armor. His horns were wide and angled high, making him more imposing.

“Stop calling attention to us,” the guard hissed as they drew closer. “You could jeopardize the mission.”

“Oh, please,” Gavril rolled his eyes. “There’s only milkmaids here, it’s not that dangerous.”

“The king could find out and send his fleet,” Torren hissed at the elf. 

“Exactly,” Jardor snorted as he shifted his stance. “Our success depends heavily on stealth. Until we deliver the princess back to the capital of Aster, we are not out of the weeds yet.”

Gavril sighed heavily but nodded. “So, are we heading out or is there other business we need to attend to first here?”

“We’ll head out, most of the pleasantries can be exchanged on the road,” Jardor said as he led them to the guards stables and pulled his draft horse out of the stall. As he mounted, Torren surveyed the town. It was a nice place to be, he supposed. But he still preferred his privacy.

“I don’t believe we met,” Jardor said to him as they set out. “I’m the Princesses’ guard, Jardor Stoneskin. And you?”

“Torren Azorrn,” Torren said finally. “Just got hired from the King-”

“-and poached from me once he left,” Gavril interjected with a cheerful grin.

“Yes,” Torren agreed with a heavy sighed. 

Jardor snorted and shook his head. “Of course,” he sighed. “I apologize for him, he was supposed to go home and then make his way back here. Though I am glad he did make the detour, I doubt I would have survived the trip with just the two of us.”

Torren found himself smiling as Gavril let out a gasp of mock hurt. “It is nice to have a more level headed company,” he agreed as Gavril mumbled to himself as the two men snickered. 

“I will have you two know, I am pleasant company!” Gavril said as he steered his horse next to Sweetie. 

“Of course, my friend,” Jardor said evenly with a placating smile. “Of course.”

“Why did you have to return home, anyways?” Torren asked with a raised brow at the elf. He had only mentioned business arrangements, but going home was an entirely different thing “Was that the other business you mentioned earlier?” 

“It was,” Gavril said defensively. “I have people at home who were waiting on me, had to let them know I’d be back for good later than anticipated.” 

Torren nodded and left it at that, he wasn’t going to judge people for their personal affairs, he knew that if he was still in contact with his own brothers he’d be doing the same. They lapsed into a silence after that, save for the occasional direction change from Jardor the other two were content with just following him. Finally, Torren found himself speaking up. “Jardor, if you’re the princesses’ guard, then why aren’t you with her?”

“Ah, there are two princesses in Aster, the one who is heir to the throne and the second in line should anything happen to the eldest sibling,” Jardor said. “The princess I served was the second in line, though she loathed the whole thing,” he added with a soft smile. “When she was...cursed, I was ordered to stay behind and help protect her sister.”

“So she’s cursed?” Gavril asked with a frown. “You didn’t mention that.”

Jardor shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I, yes, she’s cursed,” he said stiffly. “The sooner she comes home, I’m sure she’ll be closer to breaking that curse.”

“Isn’t true love usually the factor in those curses?” Gavril asked with a furrowed brow as Torren studied the minotaur. 

“Yes, but that is not the case here,” Jardor said with such confidence neither mercenary knew what to do with that. 

“So what is this curse?” Torren asked. “Why was she moved to such a remote location, surrounded by lava and a dragon?”

“It was considered necessary by the Throne, it was not my place to question it,” Jardor said stiffly. 

“So you did disagree,” Gavril noted. “Which means it likely isn’t a curse, and that makes me so much more intrigued, don’t you feel the same, Torren?” 

Torren didn’t comment. But he did note that the minotaur was clearly hiding something, and that made him all the more wary of this job. He should have just stayed home. 

“Must you grate on my nerves, elf-boy?” Jardor snapped as he looked at the elven mercenary. 

“Ah, elf-boy is actually my younger brother, a cute lad but not nearly as annoying as me, elf-man,” Gavril said with a grin, but it dropped quickly in the wake of a grim expression on his face. “Look, we can deal with a dragon, and even the lava. But if she’s cursed, we need to know exactly what we’re walking into.”

“Nothing dangerous,” Jardor promised, and the two men relaxed just a bit at that. The situation was weird, but Jardor radiated a trusting aura that it was hard to suspect they were walking into a trap. At least for Gavril, Torren always assumed there would be a trap involved when he traveled with others. “Just let me take the lead when we get to the tower, a familiar face will help her.”

“How long has she been locked away?” Torren asked finally. 

“Seven years,” Jardor said with a weary look in his eyes, and deeper down, pain. “It’s high time for her to come home.” He nudged his horse, kicking her into a faster gait as they made their way out of Aster and into the wildlands. “That said, we’re a three day journey away from the tower, it’s in a remote part of the country that few travel by. We shouldn’t face any resistance before the volcano.”

“Well then, let’s get ourselves a princess,” Gavril said with a smirk at Torren as he sent Farren barreling after Jardor. 

Torren sighed heavily and patted Sweetie’s neck, “let’s get this over with,” he said to her as he nudged her side gently, a gentle permission to run with the other horses, a permission that she gladly took as she galloped next to their two companions. In just three days, he’ll be fighting off a dragon surrounded by molten lava just to rescue a princess. That was the only certain thing he knew about this mission, if there was a curse, if they could get her to Aster before the King found out, if he still was getting paid.

Gods, was he still getting paid?

~*~*~*~

[eye of the tiger blasting]

Jardor kept the lead, forging ahead when Gavril decided that bickering with Torren was a Lovely Idea. Both men, both adult men, were constantly five seconds away from getting into a slapping fight that escalated when Gavril, a four year old apparently trapped in a twenty eight year old's body, claimed that Torren had hit him. 

Jardor just let it happen when Torren really did hit him. 

Setting up camp was a horrid affair, all three of them were skilled in camping, but those skills had varying degrees. Jardor could put up an excellent tent, but the sleeping cot kept getting tangled and eventually he just laid out on the mess with a stoic resolve. Torren was an expert in putting out his sleeping cot, but his tent kept falling out on one side and eventually he just moved Sweetie over to help keep it propped up with the promises of getting her an extra big bag of oats. And Gavril would put his tent up, but in the process of laying out his sleeping cot the tent would fall. When he’d try to put the cot up first, the tent would fall and he’d have to find his way back out again. And so, in a moment where his remaining two brain cells bumped together, he tied his tent up to the branches of the tree keeping it up and elevated while Torren glared at him from the inside of his lopsided tent that was beginning to smell of horse.

The morning didn’t help anything either. 

Torren, used to years of cooking and traveling by himself, had woken up early and made himself, and only himself, a nice breakfast. The other two, woken by the pleasant smell of bacon and the heavenly sizzle of fresh eggs being cooked, came out of their tents with growling stomachs and crushing disappointment when they spotted Torren eating it all by himself. Jardor was disappointed, Gavril was dismayed. The two had to fend for themselves, Jardor splitting a piece of jerky with the elf as they glared subtly in Jardor’s case, and blatantly in Gavril’s. 

When they finally set back out again, it was in lesser spirits than the day before. They were less than a day away, according to the smell of sulfur that got increasingly heavier as they traveled on. Gavril could see why no one had rescued the princess prior till now, the lands around the volcano were barren, the roads treacherous by hungry wolves. It was dangerous even for the three of them, he couldn’t imagine a merchant or a lone adventurer braving this land.

Well, maybe Torren.

But everyone else would be fucked.

Jardor let out a soft laugh up ahead and slowed to a stop at the crest of the hill. He glanced back at the two catching up, a light shining in his eyes as he grinned at them. “We’re here,” he announced as the tower, tall and magnificent, loomed below. It wasn’t exactly just a remote tower, Gavril could make out some crumbling structures of a once beautiful palace. He wondered, hoped really, that it was still stable and safe for the princess, surely her parent’s wouldn’t have dumped her into this hell hole if it was unstable. He paused, actually, he’s met some gods awful parent’s. It was a high possibility. But that was neither here nor there, the tower was still far enough away, but they would arrive there within the hour if they paced themselves. They still couldn’t spot the dragon, and none of them were willing to go head on against a fucking dragon.

Torren opened his mouth to speak, to ask what the plan was in case the dragon reared its head. But before he could utter a single word, a horn sounded from behind them. The three turned on their steeds to watch as a troop of soldiers made their way towards the tower, banners flying high, and armor glittering in the sunlight. 

Pufort. 

"Fuck," Gavril said with pursed lips. 

Fuck was right. 

~*~*~*~

Princess Amirah was absolutely, and positively bored. She had nothing else to paint, unless Harold suddenly changed their mind about her painting his scales. She’s run dramatically through the hallways a dozen times this morning, and really she wasn’t feeling it for a thirteenth time. All the books have been read, a countless amount of times. At this point she could quote the books and she did, constantly, to Harold as they cleaned their teeth from their meal each night. Harold never spoke as to whether or not they enjoyed it, but she assumed they would have put an end to it by now if they didn’t. 

She sighed heavily as she paced her room, paint brush in hand as she tried to figure out a new canvas. There was still some room on the window sill, maybe even the dresser if she painted small enough. She paused by the open window, the smell of sulfur no longer bothered her as she breathed it in. She barely remembered the smell of fresh, clean air. Or the sound of bustling streets, the maids coming in with sweet hushed words, her mothers hugs…

Amirah shook her head and smacked her cheek chastisingly with her paint brush. No, no thoughts like that, she’s survived seven years without those things, she can survive many more. In all honesty, she probably could leave. It wasn’t like anyone was going to come looking for her of all the princesses in this unholy tower. They were more likely to go for the skinny blonde overlooking the ocean than her. Which was fine, she was the second born princess of Aster, her sister was always considered the prettiest, the fairest, the princess that all should aspire to be. 

Amirah made it her mission to defy that expectation. She hated the princess duties that her mother and sister had forced her to attend. She hated the expectations that were expected of her as the second in line to the throne. To marry a neighboring kingdom, to secure an alliance between the two. To have their heirs and continue the bloodline. It all made her squeamish honestly. In a perfect life, she wouldn’t mind marrying and settling down on her own terms with someone that she truly loved. But she didn’t have the perfect life, she had her mothers expectations and her sister's legacy. 

She was honestly safer in the tower than back home. 

A strange sound filled the air, and a frown pulled at her lips as she looked off outside. She adjusted her glasses as another horn sounded, a horn of all things. Why would a horn be here, who was blowing the damned thing. They were going to wake Harold up!

Leaning out the window, Amirah let out a gasp as banners crested over the hill. Banners that belonged to Pufort, the kingdom ruled by King Richard. In the distance, she spotted three men charging ahead of the group, and hope glittered in her heart as she spied familiar horns. Was Jardor really here? She didn't know who the other men were, or what she assumed were male honestly she knew some beefy female knights, oh gods was Clarissa here? That would truly make her day. 

Before she could speculate, however, a loud roar filled the air and shook the ground. Clinging to the wall, Amirah looked up in slight fear. She knew that roar, and what it meant. A challenge, anyone who wanted her, had to go through them.

May the Divines bless their poor souls.

[captainkippen]

SEND ME FIC PROMPTS

Cyrus and TJ's relationship can be described as ‘almost-something-not-quite-there-yet” and has been at that stage for a rather frustrating six months. He's not sure why it's taking them so long to do about it, but Cyrus is certain that TJ must have also acknowledged the tension between them because there have been a few near misses so far where he's thought 'this is iT, he's going to tell me how it feels’ only for TJ to break off what he was saying and turn it into some unrelated ramble. Thanks to this, it's becoming more and more common for him to feel like he's about to tear his hair out when the two of them spend time together. He doesn't want to push TJ to do or say anything he's not ready to do or say, but Cyrus figures it's time to take matters into his own hands or they might actually be stuck at this glacial pace of romance for the next fifty years. He doesn't think he can take fifty years of longing looks and heartfelt texts that lead to nothing. He'll go insane.

The opportunity to make a move arises when Bex and Bowie finally settle on the date of their wedding. At first there's a little hesitation, the engagement has been called off and called back on more than once now and they're all starting to wonder if they'll actually ever do it, but when it's only about a month away Cyrus figures they're finally safe from any drama and starts concocting a plan.

“I need to book dance lessons,” he says offhandedly when they're all lazing around Buffy's house one day. He's sprawled dramatically across one of the couches with his feet up on TJ's lap and a bowl of popcorn on his chest. It's a movie day but the horror flick they're watching is so terrible that nobody's been paying attention for the last forty five minutes. “For the wedding. There's going to be waltzing, right? I don't know how to waltz. Andi, do you know where Bowie's getting his?”

Andi eyes him suspiciously. She's well aware that Cyrus knows how to waltz. He had taught her to waltz when they were twelve. His mom had made him have lessons as a kid. Cyrus is fantastic at waltzing, even if he does say so himself. However, TJ doesn't know that. He gives her a look that says 'play along I'm begging you've and she sighs.

“At the dance studio on second street, I think,” she says. He's so blessed to have such good friends. “Bex knows one of the girls that runs it so she's giving him a discount.”

“You don't know how to waltz?” TJ asks curiously, perfectly on cue. “Don't you do dance for your P.E classes?”

Cyrus shrugs. “It's not ballroom.”

The thing is, he's concocted the perfect plan. TJ doesn't know Cyrus knows how to waltz, but Cyrus knows that TJ does. TJ had surprised them all with this knowledge a few weeks ago at a school dance. Jonah wanted to impress a girl he liked, TJ offered to show him how to dance and everyone got their happily ever after. Except Cyrus. TJ had not waltzed with Cyrus. He's still a little bitter about it.

“I could teach you,” he offers. “Save you the money.”

“Really?” Cyrus says, grinning. “Awesome. Yeah, that would be great thanks.”

Cyrus mentally marks phase one of mission ‘get TJ to admit his feelings’ a success.

*

TJ comes over on Saturday. Cyrus’ mom and stepdad have gone out to some barbeque with friends and won't be back until later so he's taking advantage of an empty house as much as he can. He makes sure to run to the store in the morning to grab some of TJ's favourite chips and soda (Baja blast Mountain Dew because what else do you expect from a teenage boy), and does a rush job at tidying up even though TJ has definitely seen the house in a much worse state than it is. He's been over during family events - he knows how wild they get. There's an odd nervous sensation thrumming in Cyrus’ veins. He has no reason to be on edge. It's just TJ. He tells himself this over and over, trying to calm down, but still jumps when he heard the front door opening and TJ yelling a greeting through the house. He's been letting himself in since they were fourteen now. It's a standard.

“I'm down here,” he yells back. They're going to be practicing in the basement so he's moved the ping-pong table out the way and set up the stereo so it's ready to go. TJ's socked feet thud down the stairs and he beams at him when he comes into view. He pulls Cyrus into a sideways hug and quickly releases him, making a beeline for the Mountain Dew. Cyrus rolls his eyes - typical.

“So how do you wanna do this?”

Cyrus shrugs. “You're the teacher.”

“You got music?”

He hands him to remote to the stereo. TJ fiddled with it for a moment before switching it on to a rhythmic rock beat with a grin. He puts it down, shrugs off his hoodie and walks towards Cyrus.

“You ready?” He pulls Cyrus towards him, positioning them both carefully.

“We're really just jumping into it, then?”

“Of course. I'm gonna lead and I'm gonna explain the steps as we go, okay? Try not to step on my feet.”

Cyrus does step on his feet, several times, quite deliberately. Each time it sets them both off in a bout of giggling and they have to pause for a moment. The afternoon continues in much the same vein, Cyrus pretending to be terrible and making TJ laugh and feeling like his whole world is complete everytime he catches TJ smiling softly at him. His heart thumps when their faces get close together and he hopes and prays that his palms aren't too sweaty where they're clasped in TJ's. It feels right, the two of them together like this.

There's a moment, when they're coming to the end of a song and slowing down where Cyrus thinks this might be it. TJ might say something. They're looking into one another's eyes, the world around them faded slightly, and he's holding his breath waiting for him to say anything. Then TJ coughs, ducks his head and pulls away, announcing they should take a break and get some lunch, and Cyrus kind of wants to scream in frustration. This plan is going to take longer than he expected.

*

As it turns out, the plans takes much longer than he expected. TJ gives him three more dance lessons before the wedding and nothing comes of them. It's the most irritated Cyrus has ever been with him, which he realises isn't technically fair because TJ isn't a mind reader and can't possibly know Cyrus is losing his grip on reality as a result of all these pent up emotions between them, but he can't help it.

The evening of the wedding is a beautiful one. It's being held in a large white tent in the park which is lit up with beautiful handmade lamps dotted around artfully, illuminating the flowers and chairs that have been set up for the ceremony. In the dark outside, fireflies flicker in and out of existence. The stars above them are almost unusually bright. It seems like there's a certain amount of magic in the air.

Cyrus may or may not cry during the vows. He and TJ sit together, knees pressed up against one another like always, the edges of their hands touching ever so gently stop them. He thinks he might have heard a sniffle or two from TJ as well, but he doesn't comment. TJ is sensitive about those kinds of things. Bex and Bowie are so obviously in love, they both nearly sob during their vows, and for a moment Cyrus envies them with everything he has. He wants that one day. To love somebody so much it consumes him, but it makes him happier and a better person in the process. He thinks about the boy sat next to him and how it feels like he's pretty close to that already.

In typical Mack fashion, they throw a stellar party for the reception. There's a live swing band and a lot of loud laughter. Champagne flows freely and a disco ball that he suspects was Andi's idea glitters above the makeshift dance floor. Cyrus watches in amusement as the guests get drinker, the dancing gets worse and the jokes get dirtier. Everyone's having such a good time. When the first waltz comes on, he catches TJ's eyes across the room.

It seems like time stops as he walks towards him. TJ meets him in the middle with a wide smile and pulls them both on to the dance floor, taking Cyrus’ hand and placing his own on his waist. Cyrus forgets all about pretending to be terrible but TJ doesn't seem surprised in the slightest.

“I knew you were faking,” he laughs.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Cyrus says, but he can't hold back his own smile. “... How'd you figure it out?”

He rolls his eyes. “I know you better than anyone, Cy. You're my best friend. You think I don't know you can dance? Your mom's shown me the pictures of your ballroom classes before. I'm not totally stupid.”

Cyrus prevents himself from saying 'that's debatable’ but it's a close call. TJ seems to read his mind and laughs anyway.

“I don't get why you needed to pretend, though,” he says. “You don't need to come up with excuses to hang out with me. You could tell me we're going to go sit in a field in silence for four hours and I'd still come because you'd be there.”

Cyrus sighs. “I know… it's just. I don't know. It's stupid, never mind.”

“No, what is it? Tell me.”

“I think…” he takes a deep breath. “You say you're my best friend, and that's true, but I also think you're more than that. And you have been for a really long time.”

TJ just keeps looking at him, saying nothing. Cyrus continues.

“Maybe it's just me that feels that way… but I don't think it is. I was hoping maybe if we got some one on one time doing something romantic maybe… maybe you'd say something?”.

“You pretended you couldn't dance because you wanted me to admit I have feelings for you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, obviously I do. Even Jonah knows that. Why didn't you just ask?”

Cyrus gapes at him. He can't believe it was that easy. TJ hadn't even hesitated to admit it. “... I didn't think of that.”

“You know, for the smartest guy I've ever met, you're kind of dumb,” TJ says with a fond look. “You could've told me how you felt too.”

“Oh… hush,” Cyrus says. “Stop smirking it's not funny.”

“It's pretty funny,” TJ grins. Cyrus pushes himself up on to his tiptoes to reach him, and just to wipe the amused smile from his face he presses a gentle kiss to his lips.

TJ makes him want to tear his hair out sometimes, but it's in the best way possible.

[antiagingsol-blog]

Utilizing Anti-aging Face Creams

There is a time in every person 's life when our growing age becomes a worry for us. This is the time when even a small hope feels like a lifelong promise and also we have the tendency to experiment with numerous anti-aging formulas. The initial visible indicator of your passing age is your first laughter line i.e. more frequently referred to as wrinkle. Normally these indicators are experienced in your 30s or if you are fortunate sufficient after that in your 40s. You could lengthen your skin from aging using suitable therapies at an earlier age. This is the time when you search for an anti aging crease cream. You can utilize anti aging crease creams even before wrinkles begin to show up on your face. Even if you sanctuary ' t yet took care of it, you can still do something regarding it. It is a good idea not to disregard these symptoms. If you assume that ignoring is a great choice to tackle with wrinkles then you can ' t obtain even more incorrect. In today 's way of life the most inescapable sign of an aging skin is its look. With contamination degrees rising to its severe and also hazardous contaminants airborne are unsafe to our skin. Acne, abrasions and also other skin illness are some of its harmful results. Inning accordance with research studies conducted by skin doctors, anti aging crease creams have numerous nutrients and also vitamins that aid in slowing down the aging procedure. Additionally, you could prevent various other extreme skin treatments if you use these lotions. There are lots of products in the market identified as anti aging but you ought to select them utilizing little sound judgment. Don ' t get deceived by the advertising and marketing approaches which promise much and also rarely provide anything. Pass your impulses and also select intelligently. To learn more on skin creams visit http://www.reduce-age.com

hi guys welcome to my channel today I'm going to share with you how you can make your very own anti-aging cream easily at all by using this cream regularly you can get rid of all the signs of aging like wrinkles fine lines sack skin age spots dark patches pigmentation and can get a brighter tighter softer supple and flawless skin within just few days to prepare the cream we will need 2 TSP of sheer butter sheer water provides natural anti-aging properties it contains vitamin A & E which helps in cell regeneration and sub tailing of the skin it reduces wrinkles and fine lines it also boosts collagen production shea butter acts as a moisturizer which nourish and feed your skin and gives you a nice glowing and radiant complexion the next ingredient we will need is 2 TSP of apricot oil apricot oil is rich in omega-6 vitamin A & E which hydrate and nourish your skin boosts new cell production and reduce fine lines and wrinkles it absorbs into skin very quickly and heals mature and dry skin it fades away dark patches pigmentation blemishes and gives you a brighter and flawless skin then we will need 1 vitamin E capsule vitamin E helps to treat wrinkles by supporting new skin cell growth and speeding up cell regeneration it fades away dark and brown spots on the skin that are caused by aging and free radical damage it helps to lighten tighten and smoothen rough and aged skin and the last ingredient we will need is essential oil essential oil will boost the shelf life of the product add some extra goodness and also a nice fragrance to the cream Here I am using lavender essential oil but you can also use orange avocado carrot seed or any essential oil of your choice take a clean jar where you can store your cream into that first I'm adding sheer butter [Music] then add apricot oil [Music] cut the vitamin E capsule and extract the oil and few drops of essential oil now mix all the ingredients very well until you achieve a smooth and creamy consistency you [Music] once your homemade anti-aging cream is ready you can store it into an airtight container in room temperature up to one month use it everyday as a night cream take a small portion of the cream and gently massage it on your face and neck for three to five minutes on upward motion then leave it for overnight it blends on your skin very well and gives you an instant radiant glow you can also use this cream as a body moisturizer this will improve your skin texture prevent your skin from aging and you will get a youthful ageless glowing and flawless skin you can start using this cream from the age of 22 to 25 for maintaining your skin from further damage if you find this video useful then don't forget to Like share and subscribe you can follow me on facebook twitter and instagram you can find the links into the description box below thank you for watching

never age you ever wish you could find that her secret well today I found women who literally look half the rage we put their pictures up online for America to see and we also asked their studio audience to guess their age and everybody guessed they were decades younger their woman just like you and they're ready to spill their secrets they could do it so can you you can defy your age y'all curious about this before I first you're gonna hang out like a secret eradicate wrinkles now America thought Donna was 34 years old but Donna's chronological age is 52 come on out Donna when I get a look careful I cannot believe you are 52 I am so what is it what are they single look at you people normally think I'm a lot younger especially men who try to hit on me around the hole got a nice feeling which is which is quite nice which is very nice so there it's shocked amazing you tell me your age yeah people for the most part think I'm usually in my mid to late thirties which is which is which is quite flattering I must say well you should be flat because you are a beautiful woman are you willing to reveal your secrets yes I am doctor open Rafi get your little toolbox here show us your age-defying trick it is it is white vinegar vinegar cinnamon and honey so I have this concoction that I make where I combined make my own exfoliating face mask with honey and cinnamon and I find that it takes off a lot of the dead skin cells and it makes my face more moisturize and it also makes it you know quite supple probably how you do it it seems so simple yeah so actually what I do is I combine the cinnamon with honey I mix it up and actually use this every night I leave it on for about 30 minutes and then I use white vinegar as an astringent which it's delicious as well you can also eat it absolutely I would even leftovers me and then you could use the astringent which kind of tightens your skin and prevents it from sagging yes how long you been using this for I've been actually using this for a few years but as I get older I use it more frequently I gotta say I'm amazed something so simple can make such a huge difference in your life do you want to try it yeah please okay I'll be there I'll go first that's a move like you I'll definitely do it yeah don't you feel it working a little bit well I'd like to lick it off I could it feels it feels cooling acting but you know I actually looked into these tips in fact I did for all the guests onto the show today the vinegar I love because it keeps yourselves hydrated which is always a valuable thing to prevent wrinkling but I specially love the cinnamon in the honey yeah and the cinnamon in particular is a fantastic exfoliant which is probably the best way out there to fight off wrinkles oh it's great so I've made you a little you look wonderful guys like this I guess hmm all right now I'm gonna show you why I think this is so cool I I built you a little replica of your skin okay it's uh what's that maybe it's a big replica of your skin your skin sort of looks like this this big parachute reflects what's going on in our bodies now you'll notice we have some audience members here and with all women um oh maybe a little bit weakly pretend you're weekly I know you're ready not all right and what happens is the collagen in our body starts to get weak and especially as we get older the hormones aren't quite perfect you don't have enough collagen to lift up this parachute then look at this front area over here it's completely worn through right there's not no collagen a that's a that's a big wrinkle right there but there was your exfoliate with cinnamon paste it changes everything cuz that's nice bringing these big burly men burly men come on in burly men pink Alfa college everyone pulled back hard as you can it reinforces your skin it gives you less wrinkles I'm not that is pretty spectacular you don't think you that kind of war over there that's why you don't have Rico I think thanks girly men I thought my audience members I appreciate like a secret government agent discoloration on your chest neck in hands now America thought Diane was 45 years old we checked her driver's license which says that she is you ready all its sixteen she having no sunspots um well I'm the only girl so and the boys don't count so um my mother lived to be 94 and I will say that when she died she didn't look a day over eighty that's pretty good I got that yeah so you say fifteen years they allow it because you don't have any discolorations at all I mean looking at all of your skin so what's your secret gonna show it to us sure okay first of all in the morning when I am making my coffee I take some lemon and I squeeze it over the backs of my hands and the decolletage a decoupage of course yes Latasha you know what that is yes it's and um the acid and in the lemon helps to bleach out any you know when we were kids we used to put it in our hair and go out in the Sun it does yeah so it bleaches out any kind of discoloration you may have of course I don't have it yeah you don't have any company might actually blocks melanin production you

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