#finally settled on one and then it sold out in my cart

[bedlamsbard]

while being fully aware that THE WEEK BEFORE CHRISTMAS is the worst time to be looking at new computers, I feel as though I am looking for a mythical computer that does not exist even though all I am looking for is my current computer, but not eight years old. (Yes, Problem Child is eight years old, I got it in 2014.)

[adrienneleclerc]

First Concert

Pairing: Keyboardist!Charles Leclerc x Reader, Singer!Lewis Hamilton x Reader, Bassist!Carlos Sainz x Reader, Drummer!Max Verstappen x Reader, Lead Guitarist!Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: Y/N goes to her first “Just An Inchident” concert and surprisingly gains the attention of the band, every girl’s dream come true

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: let me know if you want Y/N to date ALL OF THEM or date one band member and be friends with the rest of the band.

Y/N was on Ticketmaster and so was her friend, Penelope, on her computer.

“Any luck?” Y/N asked.

“Nada.” Penelope replied.

“Come on, we’re literally number 741 on the queue, they’re going to be sold out by the time we get through.” Y/N said.

“Okay, I’m 384.” Penelope said and Y/N shuts her laptop, moving closer to Penelope. “Get me my credit card.”

“On it.” Y/N goes to look in her purse. “What number are we now?”

“193.” Penelope said.

“We are so close.” Y/N said, bringing Penelope the card she wanted.

“I’m in!!! What seat do you want?” Penelope asked.

“Whats the closest and most affordable?” Y/N asked.

“You think we can afford floor seats?” Penelope asked. “There’s a few available.”

“Yes! Get it, get it, get it! I’ll pay you back, work extra shifts!” Y/N exclaimed.

“Alright, chill, I put them in my cart. Ticket insurance?” Penelope asked and Y/N nodded. “I got it! It’s done! We are going to see Just An Inchident this October!”

“Ah, Im so excited!!” Y/N said. “You are the best bestie ever.” She hugs Penelope

“I know. Should we recreate an outfit from their music videos?” Penelope asked.

“Which music video? It could be from ‘daydream’, that’s a great song.”

“You just like it because Charles sings it.”

“I mean yes but it’s a really good song, you had it on repeat when it first came out.” Y/N said.

“I know, I know. But I wonder what made them decide to finally do a North American tour.” Penelope said.

“Well they’ve been together for 5 years, they’ve been doing European tours all the time, maybe they finally realized they had American fans.” Y/N suggested.

It is October, the band is doing a sound check

“You think we’ll be playing more American venues?” Lando asked.

“If this tour goes well, I freaking hope so.” Max said.

“We’re playing Madison Square Garden, I still can’t believe it.” Lewis said.

“Actually we sold out Madison Square Garden if you wanted to get technical.” Max explained.

“Mate, you really need to stop maxplaining.” Carlos said.

“When do the doors open again?” Charles asked.

“At 7, we still have time for everything. With what song do you want to open with?” Lewis asked.

“I think a good opener needs to be a crowd favorite but a little nostalgic, you know?” Lando said.

“How about ‘Preacher Man’ (the driver era), it is one of our songs that was number one of the billboard 100 for a few weeks, that’s a definite American crowd favorite.” Charles commented,

“Lando sings that song though.” Lewis said.

“Well we can’t open up with ‘Meddle About’ (Chase Atlantic) now Can we?” Charles asked.

“You’re right.” Lewis said.

“Great, now that that’s settled, let’s go over the rest of the setlist.” Max says.

Y/N and Penelope are waiting outside of Madison Square Garden with outfits inspired by their favorite’s red carpet look

“Ah, It’s almost time!” Penelope said excitedly

“I know!! I wonder what they’ll sing first.” Y/N said. “Do we have enough money to buy merch when we get in?”

“Yeah of course.” Penelope responded. The security guard opened the door to Madison square garden and everyone started walking in, opening their bags for security, they went to the merch table to see what’s available and bought matching t-shirts. They went to their seats.

“Oh my gosh, we are so close to the stage.” Y/N said.

“Ugh, I know, it’s insane.” Penelope said. Half an hour later, the lights went out and everyone started screaming once they heard Max on the drums.

“It’s happening!” Y/N screamed.

Spotlight hit Max who was on the drums, hen another spotlight landed on Lando as he plays guitar, another on Carlos as he plays bass, then Charles on his keyboard, altogether playing the music of ‘Preacher Man’, lastly Lewis is lifted on a platform (think of the Hannah Montana movie), the music stops.

“Whats up, New York City!” Lewis said and the crowd goes wild. “We are ‘Just an Inchident’, thank you for coming! It’s always been my dream to perform in Madison Square Garden and now I’m living it.”

“We are very grateful for our American fans, it means so much to us that you like our music.” Lando said.

“We hope we’ll keep coming back here and performing for you guys.” Charles said.

“We hope you enjoy the show!” Max says.

“I guarantee you it’s worth the money.” Carlos said, Lewis picked up another rhythmic guitar while Lando stepped closer to the mic stand so he could sing.

“Hey, Mr. Preacher Man, I've been playing with a heart like a violin, I've been stumbling through the door after 6:00 a.m., fix my soul so I don't lose a love again” Lando sang into the mic. The crowd was loving it, 45 minutes in, there’s a little intermission where the band talks to the crowd

“You guys enjoying yourselves?” Lewis asked, the crowd cheered. “Okay, where them girls at?” The women cheered loudly. “Alright, who came here with their boyfriend?” Women cheered less. “Who’s single?” Women cheered loudly again. “Now one of you lucky single ladies, if you came with your boyfriend, I am so sorry, are going to be selected to pick our next song.” The camera connected to the screens chose Y/N. The boys looked at the screen behind them, she was beautiful. “Alright darling, come closer to the stage.

“Oh my god, go.” Penelope pushed Y/N lightly because she stood frozen. Y/N walked slowly to the stage, Lewis kneeled down so he could get closer to Y/N, he admired her beauty up close.

“Whats your name, sweetheart?” Lewis asked, handing her the microphone.

“Y/N.” She replied

“That’s a beautiful name, what song would you like us to perform?” Lewis asked.

“Well my favorite song is Daydream but Friends would be great.” Y/N replied.

“Well I’ll tell you what, Y/N, we’ll perform both.” Lewis winked at her before getting back up. “How does that sound?” The crowd cheered, Y/N walked back to her seat. “Thanks for participating darling.” The concert continued, as promised, Charles sung Daydreams, Lewis sung Friends, an hour and a half later, the concert finished, Penelope and Y/N were going to leave but they were stopped by security.

“Ladies, you need to come with me.” The guard said and Penelope immediately put her hands up

“I swear I did not do anything.” Penelope said and Y/N elbowed her.

“We’re not getting arrested, right?” Y/N asked, looking at the guard.

“Of course you’re not, just follow me.” The guard said and the girls were escorted backstage and met the band, a fan’s dream come true.

"Oh my gosh, this is insane." Penelope said.

"Hey girls, what did you think of the concert?" Charles asked.

"It was absolutely amazing, the light changes to macth the aesthetic of the song, the way you sung Daydreams is also amazing, i never knew how great that song sounds live." Y/N said and Charles smiled at her.

"How about you, darling? What was your favorite part of the concert?" Lando asked Penelope.

"You singing When You Need A Man, my all time favorite song." Penelope answered.

"Before you girls leave, we should take photos." Carlos spoke up.

"Great! Heres my phone." Y/N unlocked her phone and went to the camera, asking the secuirty guard if he could take the photo, which he did, then they took individual selfies, and the girls left, saying goodbye.

"She seems nice." Max said.

"Yeah, she's beautiful too, my favorite venue we played by far." Lewis said.

"When do we leave New York?" Carlos asked.

"We're staying a few days to go on 'Good Morning America', but i am beat, I just want a pizza." Lando said.

"Yeah, we'll get a pizza and head over to my apartment." Lewis said.

"Great, lets go." Charles said.

Y/N and Penelope got to their apartment and both girls posted their concert photos, the meet and greet, and clips of them performing their favorite songs, tagging the band and the individual members on Instagram. The next day, Y/N woke up with notifications that Lewis Hamilton, Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, and Max Verstappen have followed her on Instagram. Y/N was smiling and Penelope was making breakfast for them.

"What's got you all smiley?" Penelope asked.

"No, nothing, what are we having?" Y/N asked

The End

Hope y’all liked it, I am so very sorry if the buildup was better than the actual fic, tell me if you want Y/N to date all of the band members or just one member

Taglist: @the-holy-trinity-l @ourlifeforchaos @weekendlusting @marekmybeloved @always-spaced-out @dark-night-sky-99 @tribbisweetdear @iangelofmusic @mrsmelinda @shadowyinfluencercloud @bountychanti @itsmaytimetosaygoodbye @jazzyanneblogzzz @anotheranotherblogwoah

Setlist: the bands are chosen for each person based on vibe

Preacher Era -The Driver Era (Lando) Wires - The Neighborhood (Max) Valentine - Maneskin (Charles) Meddle About - Chase Atlantic (Lewis) Arabella - The Artic Monkeys (Lewis) Swim - Chase Atlantic (Lewis) Did You Have Your Fun - R5 (Lando) Sweater Weather - The Neighborhood (Max) Smooth Operator - Sade (Carlos) Supermodel - Maneskin (Charles) Okay - Chase Atlantic (Lewis) Perfect Sense - Artic Monkeys (Lewis) Daydreams - We Three (Charles) Prey - The Neighborhood (Max) Friends - Chase Atlantic (Lewis) Snap Out Of It - The Artic Monkeys (Lewis) Heaven Angel - The Driver Era (Lando) Daddy Issues - The Neighborhood (Max) Fear of Nobody - Maneskin (Charles) i Wanna Be Yours - Artic Monkeys (Lewis) HER - Chase Atlantic (Lewis) Subeme La Radio - Enrique Iglesias (Carlos) {PARA MI GENTE LATINA} When You Need a Man - The Driver Era (Lando) Right Here - Chase Atlantic (Lewis) One for the Road - Artic Monkeys (Lewis) Feel You Now - The Driver Era (Lando) Baby Said - Maneskin (Charles) Void - The Neighborhood (Max) Knee Socks - Artic Monkeys (Lewis) OHMAMI - Chase Atlantic (Lewis) Timezone - Maneskin (Charles) Compass - The Neighbourhood (Max) Welcome to the End of Your Life - The Driver Era (Lando) R U Mine? - Artic Monkeys (Leiws) The Walls - Chase Atlantic (Lewis) Own My Mind - Maneskin (Charles) Reflections - The Neighborhood (Max) A Kiss - The Driver Era (Lando)

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Risk It All Part 5/6

This chapter 😫

Reader gets pregnant by Ruben. Although the two are not together Ruben promises to support her through the pregnancy, eventually letting reader stay with him until the child is born.  (This fic includes alot of angst and serious topics)

Enjoy!

"Look at this one, isn't it cute?" You asked Ruben this, holding up a adorable little baby onesie. However, Ruben took one look at it and crinkled his nose. "Too pink." He muttered.

"Um, okay..." You put it back where you found it and followed Ruben down the aisle. It was a small shop in uptown Manchester that sold all the essentials for a newborn baby. You had begged Ruben to take you there for months and finally, on his day off, he did.

"How about this one?" You asked, holding up another onesie you found. It had patterns of baby elephants on them which you found lovely. Ruben however...

"Too blue." He grunted.

"Ruben?" You had enough of his foul mood. "If something is wrong just say it."

His eyes widened in suprise. "Y/N, I'm....I didn't mean to upset you."

"Well you did." You mumbled. "By not wanting to pick out any clothes for our baby."

He sighed, but stopped pushing the shopping cart, turning around to approch you. "I'm sorry okay." He pulled you in for a hug, tight and warm. Your arms barley reached around his waist. "Now, will you tell me what's bothering you?" You asked, because clearly something was.

"Nothing is bothering me. It's just that..."

"Yes?"

Your hug faded as he let you go. "It's just that..."

"Please Ruben, tell me."

He sighed once again. "The baby is due any day Y/N, and here I am off to training camp miles away from you."

It was true. Ruben and his team were leaving for a mid season training camp somwhere in Saudiarabia. However, you had no idea that he had doubts about going.

"Ruben." You said, in your most reassuring voice. "Yes, the doctors say that the baby is due any day. But that doesn't mean tomorrow or the day after that. It could be weeks from now and you're only leaving for a few days."

"Yes, I know but...." He pulled you in for another hug, this one even tighter. "I don't want to leave you alone."

"I won't be alone." You murmured into his shirt. You tiled your head up, resting your chin against the center of his torso. "Lina will be with me."

"Right, Lina..." Ruben hands went to each side of your face, cradling your head in his hands as he bent down to kiss your lips. He briefly pulled back, only to go in for another kiss and another, repeating the act until you giggled against his mouth. "I promise you Ruben, we'll be fine. You enjoy the training camp with your team."

********************************************

"So have you settled for any names yet?" Lina said, taking a swing of her glass of wine. She came by once a day to check on you whilst Ruben was away. She brought her own wine bottles since Ruben neither drank or kept any alcohol in the house.

"No, actually." You replied.

"No?"

"Ruben says It's bad luck."

"I bet he does." Lina chuckled. "Does he also make you drink those green smoothies every morning?"

"It's good for the baby." You blushed. But perhaps Ruben was a bit extravagant when it came to yours and the baby's general health. "At least he cares."

"You got me there." Lina said, putting down her glass. "I'll have to admit that I was wrong about him, he really does love you."

"I wouldn't say love." You mumbled, to which Lina frowned. "I mean he hasn't said those words exactly. I think it's more him, caring for me as the mother of his unborn child. He might not be as attached to me once she's born."

"So you have doubts?" Lina nodded, trying, but failing to judge you for it. She might have judged you less if she was aware of the agreement between you and Ruben, however Elena made you sign an NDA preventing you to tell anyone about it even long after the baby is born. "I just want what's best for my baby." You said indicating that she should drop the subject. Lina did so gladly as her phone buzzed, indicating that your food had arrived downstairs.

"Can I get it." You offered, since sitting still did nothing for your swollen feet.

"Sure thing hun, I'll start setting the table."

You made your way out of the apartment, moving slowly towards the elevator since your swollen belly prevented you from doing anything at a normal pace. You once told Ruben what a nightmare it would be to take the stairs down, to which he had responded by shrugging his shoulders, saying "Maybe I'll buy a house one day." It was sweet of him, to dream of a future life with you and the baby. You hadn't allowed yourself to that, simply because of the nature of your agreement and how your marriage to Ruben was practically arranged.

"Fuck." You sighed, with your back against the elevator wall as you stepped into it. You were drenched in sweat just from that short walk and your heart was beating fast. Pressing on the button to take you downstairs, you realized that there was water running down your legs, creating a puddle around your feet. "Oh no." You gasped. But just then the elevator doors closed and not as smooth as they were supposed to, but with a violent jerk. The lights then flicked on and off as the elevator felt like it was descending, slower than usual.

"Aaahhh."

You gritted your teeth with your hands resting on your belly. There was a sudden pain deep down in your abdomen and now you were sure that you were experiencing your first contraction.

"Somebody, help!" You shouted, however the elevator had gone dark and no longer moving.

"Hello, Y/N, is that you?"

It was Lina's voice, heard somewhere above your head.

"Yes. The elevator stopped and I think I'm having ahhhhhhh." You screamed as the pain hit once again, sharper than the previous one.

"Oh my god. Are you....did your water break?"

"YES!" You were on the floor now, withdrawn into a corner, a dark corner since you failed to see anything beyond the lights surrounding the elevator buttons.

"Shit. I think there's been a power outage." Lina's muffled up voice said. "The whole building is dark. But don't worry, I'll go get help. Just keep breathing."

You breathed and breathed but couldn't help but to feel the walls closing down on you. It was happening, it was really happening. You were going to give birth to your baby alone, with Ruben miles and miles away from you.

[bookwormsbutterfly]

Who am I to deny a challenge? This short fic takes place pre-story so tragically Buddy does not appear.

It was June, and Chase found himself at his grandpa's home in sugar springs. He'd just arrived recently and he already knew it would be a boring summer, so he decided to focus on his career. Stardom took work, and practice, so that was how he decided to spend his time.

This particular day he was so busy practicing his routine in his bedroom he almost didn't notice his phone go off. He wouldn't have if it weren't for that notification tone. His phone let him set specific notifications for specific people, and that particular chime he was always alert for, the sound of a text from his mom. He sat down and grabbed his phone opening the text,

Mom: Susie came by the other day with a care package. I think Beth and Dale tried to stop her from bringing this monstrosity into their house but you know how Susie is.

The photo was of a rainbow basket packed with various things all decorated in rainbow. It certainly looked out of place in the boring room it sat in. There was a plushie, a blanket, a collection of scarves in various colors, a wig, and a note that just read "it's pride month, you know what that means."

Chase chuckled and texted back

Chase: omg that's awesome. Beth better let you keep it.

Mom: even if Beth hides it in the closet, it's bringing me joy here and now.

The next photo was of Chases mom wearing the rainbow wig, propped up with the rainbow blanket atop her.

Mom: what do you think? How do I look?

Chase: amazing. I might need to dye my hair to match.

Mom: now that would be a sight.

Mom: I love you

Chase: I love you too.

Chase sat there for a long moment, staring at the photo of his mother. The bright colors of the wig made her seem all the more pallid, but she was smiling. He saved the photo to his phone.

It was the same day that Chase found himself bullied into grocery shopping by his grandpa and cousin. As he grumpily made his way through the isles a rainbow display caught his eye, it was mostly just random stuff with rainbows put on it sold as "pride merch" but there was a collection of mini-bottles of temporary hair color, all the colors of the rainbow. And it reminded him of his conversation with his mother. No way he'd actually dye his gorgeous blonde hair, but it could be fun to color it temporarily to send a photo to mom. He tossed the set in his cart.

Chase didn't get the chance to do it until the next day, where he spent the entire morning staring in the mirror as he tried to get his hair colored rainbow in just the right way. Then there was the matter of an outfit, what should he wear for this? He settled on a black shirt so if the hair color bled onto it it wouldn't be a big deal, and took a photo. The shirt was wrinkled weirdly in that one so he took another, then another, and another, and when he finally had the perfect photo he was being called down to lunch. He sent it to his mom as he went downstairs.

At the lunch table everyone stared at him "it's wash-out" Chase reassured them.

Deacon simply asked "Why?"

Chase told them over lunch about Susie's basket, and as he was finishing up his lunch Deacon said "you should wash that out now. Even temporary dyes can stain blonde hair like yours.

Chase was in the shower in a flash, watching the colors meld to a soapy brown as it washed off him. He shampooed and scrubbed thoroughly until he had no more color dripping off him and even a little after that just to be sure. He conditioned his hair and stepped out of the shower, drying himself off. It was only wiping off the mirror that he saw himself. The color had sort of washed out. His hair was more of a pastel rainbow now than it had been before, but he didn't want it rainbow at all! He jumped back in the shower and continued scrubbing at his hair before he finally decided. It was pride month, his hair had to go back to normal soon and for now, it would be alright. He could hide it with a hat if need be. It could be a fun stunt to have rainbow hair for a bit in June. As he dried off and got dressed again he looked out the window at the boring lawn, and around his room, "this'll probably be the most interesting thing to happen to me this summer, I might at well just have fun with it" he decided.

[illarian-rambling]

can I get an info dump on Anarac Fifth-Blood? 😇

Lol, why am I not surprised you asked for this? I love my little walking apocalypse though, so let's get cracking!

Anarac was born in the Araunian capital city of Dualn, about seven thousand years before the current era of Illaros. He's named Fifth-Blood because he's the fifth generation of his family to live within Dualn's walls. The Araunians had very strong city loyalties, so how long your family lived in a city was considered a source of pride. Five generations was considered a decently long time.

His lineage didn't save him from living paycheck to paycheck, though. Araun had a decent public school system, but Anarac dropped out at eighteen to A) get a job after his parents booted him out and B) because he and his then girlfriend ended up as teen parents. Life was a bit precarious for him then, however, it was far from unpleasant. He found a job at a restaurant while his now-wife, Eabain, went to school to become an alchemist. Their son was named Finian, and he soon was joined by a little brother, Baerdyn. Anarac knew he wasn't anyone's picture of success by any means, but he was content.

Things did eventually take a turn, though. Eabain began to regret settling down so soon and all but left in the night, moving to an entirely different city and leaving Anarac to raise their kids alone. Anarac had to quit his enjoyable cooking job for one that paid better - a market guard to be exact, though he did keep a food cart he sold sandwiches out of on the side. He worked his ass off to support his sons, who were his pride and joy.

But back then, things were different on Illaros. The world was new, and the gods weren't as practiced at keeping End at bay. There was a reason Araunian cities were built as compounds. Though the lack of natural light could be difficult, everyone was provided shelter from the gaze of the stars. Unless you ran a food cart and liked to sell to resting caravans late at night, that is.

The first time End reached a tendril into his mind, Anarac was hardly aware of what was happening. He felt an odd pressure and decided to follow it as it led him to a circle of dancing elven travelers, all whirling around one central figure in the garb of a priest. The next thing Anarac knew was waking up around noon, covered in sand and blood, no one to be seen. Shaken, he decided to pretend it had never happened. He had a family to look after. But as the nights went on, the pressure only became greater, until even within the walls of Dualn, he felt as if his skull might crack.

Desperate now, Anarac decided to go to a priest. The Araunians were more knowledgeable about End than current civilizations, so even as a simple market guard, Anarac had an inkling about what was happening to him. Such a decision would be his downfall, in the end. As he entered under the church's skylight, End possessed him, transforming him into a monstrous avatar of the embodiment of destruction. Using his body as its anchor, End rampaged through Araun, destroying temples to weaken the gods. Hundreds were killed in its wake.

Anarac kept his rebellious spirit, however. He pushed back against End constantly, waiting for any weakness to wrest control away. It was when he almost managed to drown the both of them that End decided enough was enough. Anarac needed to be broken.

End, wearing Anarac's skin, returned to his little apartment in Dualn. For the months their father had been away, Finian, now twelve, had done his best to take care of his brother, letting no one know their father was gone so that they wouldn't be split up and taken away to an orphanage. Except, now 'Anarac' was back. Both boys were overjoyed. Anarac pleaded for End to leave his sons alone, but a lesson had to be taught. End killed both children in gruesome fashion. This was the final straw for his cracking mind. Anarac never rebelled again. He kept up a constant pained scream as the Illarian Chosen destroyed him and End together. He didn't stop screaming even as his mind was taken up and made to be a part of End. He didn't stop until he was sent back down to Illaros again, just another mind of End now, to possess another unfortunate avatar: Izjik Meautammera.

After this, thinks get spoilery, but you know what happens, Wyked. After the events of End Times, Anarac's soul is given to the god of loyalty, as no one knows where the Araunian afterlife is. There, he would stay until the events of Starbreaker. The gods are looking to see what's beyond the Watchtower, you see, and for that, they need an expert in End.

Here's some art! Idk why I always draw him so goofy

I hope you enjoy my most extra special traumatized boy!

[blossom-adventures]

Hi! Hello! And welcome to some actual writing that I did today!

I have been watching the Netflix show - The Last Kingdom - over the last few days and it has inspired me to work on my Skyrim stories, I have been busy with Far Horizons & Ancient Stones and I have started this… a new story that runs along side my Dragonborn’s story! This is the story of my Dawnguard Protagonist - Kristof

I was listening to the soundtrack of The Last Kingdom while I wrote this and, no joke, I actually got emotional

Hope you all like this 💙☺️

The Blood Prophecy - Prologue

A horse and cart travelled back to its farmstead having sold leather, meat and furs at a market in Morthal.

The horse was being ridden by a tall man, a Nord, with broad shoulders and large arms, an imposing figure. He wore clothes of leather and cotton and a chain mail shirt, on his left hip he carried a sword and on his right, an axe.

As the man travelled, he looked over the vast lands of Skyrim, his pale blue eyes taking in the beautiful landscapes of his homeland.

He steered his horse around the bend in the road, finally looking upon the tundra of Whiterun Hold, when he stopped.

“No, oh no, no, no, no! Gods no!” He unsheathed his sword and cut the cart free, spurring his horse into a gallop towards the smouldering ruins of his farmstead.

“Varin!” The Nord shouted as he jumped off his horse at boundary of his land “Varin!” He ran across the small area of farmland towards his house, trying - and failing - to avoid seeing all his livestock had been slaughtered along with his 2 guard dogs.

As he got to the porch of his home he saw 3 corpses; one was a large creature, akin in size to a troll, but it’s skin looked the colour and texture of stone and it had wings and long claws, which were stained with blood. The other 2 were Elves, one Altmer and one Dunmer they both wore red and black armour, the Altmer’s jaw hung open and the Nord saw that it had pointed canines

“Vampires?” He muttered as he opened the mouth of the Dunmer using the tip of his sword, he too had long, pointed fangs.

“VARIN!” He pushed the door to his house open and stepped inside, coming face to face with a sight he never wanted to see; another Nord man, much smaller than himself in both height and musculature, lying dead on the floor, with a sword in one hand.

“V…Varin” the Nord choked out the name as he approached and dropped to his knees at Varin’s side, he put a hand on Varin’s cheek, his skin was cold and his body was torn. The Nord scrunched his eyes shut and felt hot tears running down his face as he leant over Varin and kissed him

“I will bury you, my love… on our land, I… I am so sorry I wasn’t here to protect you” he began to weep, pulling the body of his love into his arms and holding him tightly as he grieved.

2 days later… The Nord was standing over 3 lines of freshly disturbed earth; one longer than the other 2, for Varin and their 2 adopted children who the Nord had found dead in their room.

He looked from the graves to the chain and amulets he held in his hand; hand carved charms of Mara and Talos - Talos was his, Mara belonged to Varin - the chain also held one plain gold ring, he pulled the matching gold ring off his finger and slipped it onto the chain too.

The Nord put the chain around his neck and tucked it between his leather tunic and chain mail shirt

“You will always be with me… all 3 of you… I know you will wait for me in Sovngarde” the Nord knelt down and touched the stone that had been placed at the head of Varin’s grave, looking at the carving he had done the day before. Varin, Husband to Kristof

Kristof climbed onto his horse and settled into the saddle, eyes fixed on the 3 graves.

“I am so sorry, Varin…” he rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand while he turned his horse away from the farmstead with the other “come on girl,” he spoke softly to his horse. “There’s nothing left for us here”

[thescarletgarden1990]

Ten First Line Game

Ten first lines game!

Rules: Share the first line of ten of your most recent fanfics and then tag ten people. Don't have ten? Not to worry, just share what you have (ignore if you’ve been tagged)

Tagged by @enygma0710 Thank you, darling!

1. Playground Love

Dany was seven when her family left Braavos.

2. Let us live at dawn

They hadn’t seen the sun for weeks.

3. The girl in my story has always been you (with @adecila)

One of the cart’s wheels made a squeaking noise as she pushed it amidst the stacks. Dany made a mental note to oil it later, wary of the irritated glances coming from the people that frequented the library. She tried to ignore them as she placed the books back onto the shelves, lining the spines carefully, but still froze in her steps when she saw his frown.

4. Enter You (with @tomakeitbeautifultolive)

They were right there. Just dangling on the tip of his tongue. He could feel them.

5. All Cops Are Bastards

The acrid stench of smoke rendered it impossible to breathe without experiencing fits of coughing, despite the handkerchiefs and balaclavas everyone was wearing. Shrieks and shouts, the noise of glass breaking loudly, and war-like chants in the distance. No time to think, no time to observe. Only the hand that brandished the truncheon, and the taste of bile in his mouth.

6. In the Midnight Hour

It felt incredible. The fear and terror subsided, leaving his mind free to be washed by a sensation of awe and wonder. The black scales were hot under his fingertips, and the big, intelligent eyes of the gigantic dragon seemed to connect with his very soul. He never felt that scared and happy and whole at the same time before, ever. Jon patted the dragon's scaly snout as he would do Ghost's, hand trembling with reverence. Suddenly, a deafening sound exploded in his ears, scaring the shit out of him. Was he about to become dragon supper?

7. If it’s the last thing I do (with @adecila)

The Red Keep was still at night, the halls and chambers barely seeming to belong to the same castle when illuminated only by the candlelight. Ned appreciated the quiet, the way this despicable place only seemed to become bearable when everyone else was sleeping. But even in the comforting silence of the night, punctuated only by the soft footsteps of some handmaiden, he couldn’t shake the mounting feeling of dread from his heart.

8. Little Winter Rose (with @tomakeitbeautifultolive)

Once upon a time, when stags and lions ruled the seven kingdoms, and the wolves hid the fire in the frozen North, there lived a man. Now this man was easily a hundred years old, if not a full twenty years more. He had been content to live his life in peace and put himself at the service of others, but now, old as he was, he couldn’t seem to feel joy anymore. Tragedy had befallen his dynasty, and now he was the last one standing of his name.

9. The Wrong Impression of the Right One (with @adecila and @tomakeitbeautifultolive)

The evening was like any other, shrouded in a muted darkness gentled only by a few flickering torches along the walls. All was still but for the shadow dancing at his feet, mimicking his every movement, and all quiet but for the faint echo of iron and his restless mind. Sweat beaded his brow, a soreness settling into his arms as he slashed at the dummy again and again, hoping the repetition might dull his thoughts like the sword’s edge.

10. Foreign Affairs (with @tomakeitbeautifultolive)

Meereen was hot as a furnace, the blistering heat making the air dance in waves just above the sandy ground. It was a warmth that Jon had never felt before in his life, a welcome change from the implacable cold of the Wall. Already during his long journey in Essos, he had had to forgo the heavy clothes that were necessary in the frigid North, but now, on his third day in the city, he had finally relented and switched his black tunics for the light-coloured linen ones that they sold at the local market. It’s not like his brothers could see him, anyway, and he would be more useful to the Night’s Watch if he didn’t die of a heatstroke far away from Castle Black.

I think a lot of people have been tagged already, but if someone wants to do this feel free to participare and tag me! 

[mythesims4experience]

While I work through the overwhelm of needing to catch up with my updates for the Ware Legacy, I thought I would play around with a new legacy! I wanted to try a slightly different approach, but I fully realize I'll probably end up going down a similar vein to what I usually end up doing.

But this is for some variety for my brain! So, everyone say hello to Isla Rein, the founder of the Rein Legacy!

We're starting off as most founders do: as a Young Adult!

Isla has the aspiration of Super Parent, and she is warm-hearted, neat, and a bit of a bookworm! Currently, this legacy is just her, and her cat Aiko.

Starting off her adult life in San Myshuno was a big step in of itself-- it can be intimidating to enter city life on your own! But, Isla had Aiko by her side, and she knew nothing could stop both of them. With high spirits, she chose to live in one of the open apartments on 21 Chic Streets. She was advised in advance that there were some lively neighbors in the building, but is was nothing she couldn't handle!

She also got to showcase her disguise while exploring the neighborhood with Aiko. (And also I'm adoring how snuggly Aiko is with Isla, it's so cute!!)

After doing some exploring-- it was pretty quiet outside, so no socializing yet, unfortunately-- Isla finally stepped into her apartment, and realized she had some serious decorating to do! She didn't have too much disposable income, but she had enough to settle in and start making a living for herself. She wanted to feel at home in her home!

After a very busy day, Isla felt like her apartment was really coming together. It was so cute and it felt a bit more like a lived-in apartment instead of a shell.

Following the decorating, Isla decided to head out once more into the community, following Aiko's lead. She rather enjoys coming and going in the apartment. She'll always come back, but she just likes to go exploring!

Isla chatted with some of the kids outside and one of the vendors for a cart nearby, and eventually returned inside for some gaming and gardening!

After some time, Isla returned to the apartment and spent some time in her office space. She wanted to get right to work recouping some of the costs for her designing, and knew exactly where to start. She'd always been interested in pursuing art as an actual career, and this was the best way to jumpstart this mindset!

And these are just some cute shots of Aiko settling in as well!

Settling in and having a great time, and a shot of the new bed because the circle one, while gorgeous, is hilarious to watch her sleep in, she literally vanishes into the bed. Sitting on it was fine, but laying in it made her nearly vanish!

Isla is just having a fantastic time right now. She's sold a few pieces, kept some for herself, and raised her skill in Painting to Level 3!

She looks so happy in her home with Aiko, and I'm just really excited for the potential both of them hold.

(also marking this post with sexual themes for the shower pic of her, but I did want to show off the awesome tattoo! It looks so good on her!)

[oscars-dumbass-central]

Chapter 7: and I'd really rather step back, but my back's against the wall

At a busy market hub city, Martyn aims to get something back from a trickster of a salesman.

Words: 1435

The marketplace was busy and cramped, forcing Martyn to weave through people to get to the stall on the far end of the walkway. The heavy coat he was wearing made him sweat even more than normal, but at least it hid the dagger strapped to his hip — Zedaph had banned him from bringing his axe because it would ‘bring too much trouble’ apparently, which to Martyn was utter nonsense. His axe would keep trouble away, but also Doc could probably do that, but the man had been annoying and chose to stick back on the ship so he could do whatever he did in his spare time. 

Amazing smells wafted throughout the walkways, emitting from all of the different restaurants and food carts which littered the pavement. Several times he had to quickly dart through lines of customers which stretched from side to side of the shops. Jimmy had disappeared to one of the restaurants a while back, apparently they specialised in his favourite style of food, but Zedaph was still following shortly behind him. 

“Where are you headed?” Zedaph suddenly appeared beside him, the lithe man being able to weave through the crowds much easier than Martyn could achieve. 

“There’s a pawn shop a bit ahead,” he nodded towards a building with about three dozen signs in different languages all reading something along the lines of ‘Your Items for Chips!’ or other variations of ‘We Buy Your Stuff!’, “Last time I was here my guy had to sell something, thought I’d see if it’s still there.” 

“That’s really sweet,” Zedaph smiled, nudging Martyn gently, “Didn’t know you had it in you to be kind like that.” 

Martyn scowled, “It’s his originally and the guy scammed us, I’m just getting it back,” Zedaph smiled again, slightly different and like he knew more than he was letting on, but didn’t comment further. 

The two of them slipped into the store and Martyn breathed out, finally being able to get out of the crowd of people and into a place with some slight amount of cool air. There were more shelves than free floorspace, each shelf had hundreds of trinkets and items and things that meant something to someone once. But he ignored all of the items and stalked towards the front counter, his eyes having caught what he needed — a beautiful hand-carved old fashioned guitar, the body of it engraved with beautiful floral patterns and vines. Void. it looked exactly as it did when they sold it. 

“Something caught your eye?” The store owner appeared out of no-where, leaning on the table and smiling up at Martyn, his eyes glowing a bright green which didn’t appear entirely natural. “Ah, the guitar, it’s a beautiful piece,”— he started once he saw what Martyn had been looking at —“hand-crafted by a family of musicians actually, no-one knows those skills anymore, can’t believe I managed to get my hands on a piece so wonderful.” 

“How much?” He said short and flat, hiding his emotions underneath a cold gaze as he stared down the owner who still didn’t stop fucking smiling. 

“Hmmm, let me think,” the owner stood up straight and placed a hand against his chin, “I had to pay quite a few Chips to get it.” 

No the fuck he didn’t. But Martyn couldn’t say that, not if he actually wanted to buy the guitar. 

“Let’s say a thousand Chips?” He smiled again and it was so blindingly bright that it distracted Martyn for a moment as he let the price settle in his mind. 

“A fucking thousand? You’ve got to be fucking joking!” 

“No-one makes guitars that good anymore I’m afraid, can’t budge on the price,” he shrugged and hels Martyn really wanted to punch him, but instead he shoved his hands into pockets and sneered at the man. 

“You scammed me and my liege out of it in the first place, I am not paying a thousand to get it back.” 

“Ah,” the man’s eyes light up with a strange blue glow for a second before returning to the blue, “I remember you two, not very often we get a king in here, what ever happened to him?” He attempted to look sad or intrigued or like he pitied Martyn, he couldn’t tell. And whichever one it was just made him fucking mad. 

“That is none of your fucking business,” Martyn was pretty much growling as if he was attempting to imitate Doc and his ability to fucking terrify anyone he looked at for too long (Martyn was not as good at is on account of not being a crazy tall goat-thing). “Just give me the guitar and we can be done here peacefully,” He pulled his coat open slightly, letting the light gleam off of the wicked-sharp dagger on his hip. 

The owner merely giggled at his show of danger, “Awww, you’re so dangerous,” he fucking tapped Martyn on the nose what the fuck— “Shame that dagger won’t do anything here,” and there again, the flash of blue in his eyes and— oh fuck. 

Without another word Martyn turned around and hurried out of the store and to the alleyway beside it. His hands shook as he flicked his lighter on and held it up against the cigarette. He told himself that he should’ve stopped by now, but his entire body felt like it was filled with static and he knew he wouldn’t calm down. What’d be the harm of just one? 

.

On his third cigarette — still leaning on the alleyway, definitely not hiding from the thing in the store — he was interrupted by a yell and a hand grabbing his. Before he could realise what was going on he was being pulled through back alleys and side streets by whoever had grabbed his hand. 

“What the fuck?” He pulled his hand out of their grip, but paused when he saw who it was. “Zedaph, what the fuck?” 

“Imight’vestolentheguitarandweshouldprobablykeeprunning,” he managed to say in a single breath as he gestured with the guitar case. 

“Shit,” Martyn grabbed onto Zedaph’s hand and drew him into a tiny alleyway, pushing him against the wall and covering his mouth with his hand. He paused for a second, catching his breath and listening, but then he froze. 

“Oh sheep boy, we are you?” The store owner sang out, his voice different layered over itself and echoing in his throat — or the throat of whoever he had stolen the body off. 

Glancing down at Zedaph, Martyn swallowed, “Trust me about this.” 

“What–” 

He was cut off by Martyn leaning in, and smashing their lips together. Zedaph almost immediately leant into Martyn, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him in closer as Martyn placed his hands against his face. 

“Oh sheep boy— ah! Oh my void, I am so sorry!” The seller spoke from somewhere in the entrance to the side street they were currently making out in. “I am so sorry! I– nevermind!” His footsteps trailed off, thankfully back in the direction of his shop. 

After a couple seconds more of making out (which were probably completely unnecessary, but shut up), Martyn pulled away, leaving Zedaph leaning heavily against the wall, his arms still wrapped around his waist. 

“I’m sorry about that, but it did work,” He would’ve taken another step back to give them both room to breathe, but Zedaph was still holding onto him, so he continued standing very awkwardly, their bodies pressed together. 

“I– what just happened?” 

Shrugging, Martyn was finally able to fully step back from Zedaph as he released his arms letting them drop to his sides limply. “No-one wants to interrupt a couple hooking up in a random alley, I’ve done it a few times in the past, but usually I’m the– y’know, I’m not finishing that sentence.” 

Zedaph was still leaning against the wall before he started smiled gently, “I mean, not the worst kiss I’ve had,” He placed his hand gently against Martyn’s face, his thumb running against his rough stubble, “And if you need to make out with someone in an alley to get away from someone you stole from, I’m always up for it.” 

“Are you asking me to kiss you again?” 

“I just might be.” 

Martyn smiled, and leant in to kiss Zedaph again, this time much gentler and softer. “We should get back to the ship,” he murmured, as they pulled away to breathe, their faces still only a couple millimetres away from each other. 

“Why? So we can continue this?” 

“Maybe, and also so we don’t get arrested,” Martyn laughed. 

“Oh right, that too.” 

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Assassins

( Don’t forget to come see my on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord )

 The soft light of the morning dawn slowly filtered into the room through cracks between the lavish curtains. Streaks of light bounded off the polished gold detailing of the rooms furniture and made the room appear as if the very stars themselves had come to adorn themselves upon the walls. So bright were the reflections that it managed to find their way underneath several layers of bed sheets and directly into the face of ambassador Glifin.

Roused from his seemingly peaceful sleep Glifin slowly pushed off the sheets one by one and rolled to his feet. The loud thuds of his hooves touching the floor sent a shudder through the room as he stood and stretched out, his general grogginess slowly shaking off. With a loud yawn finally leaving his throat he rose and shambled over to his desk to begin his day’s work.

Tonight he was hosting a party honoring visiting royalty from his home world on Argon. The prince had decided he wanted to visit this miserable planet he had been stationed on, though why anyone would want to visit this world was beyond him.

Glifin’s posting on the human homeworld had been sold to him as a great honor but in reality it had been a means to keep him from continuing his political rise. On Argon he had been a senator whose mere whisper was enough to make generals and minor nobles quiver in fear. His star struck ascension didn’t go unnoticed however and just before he was to be elected into the office of Artock Supreme and reside over the entire senate the royal family had stepped in and given him the position of ambassador to humanity.

Within the spam of a solar month he was shipped off the throne world and sent to this backwater dump of a world; were he had to smile and feign sincerity to these miserable sacks of flesh all the while his political powerbase slowly began to crumble in the senate.

Now fully consumed by feelings of dread over his situation Glifin did not hear the sudden knock at the door. Only after several more knocks did Glifin look up from his paper work.

“Come in.”

The door slowly opened and Glifin’s aide Jafal walked in and bowed.

“My apologies for disturbing you at this early hour, but Mr. Robinson has arrived with your evening wear for tonight’s event.”

Glifin nodded and shuffled his papers back into his desk and locked it just as a new figure entered the room.

“Say what you want about Argonian fashion, but they do have such a wonderful sense of aesthetics when it comes to room decoration.”

A slim human emerged from the doorway pushing a small cart with a metal rod built in holding up two clothing bags.

“You have a problem with Argonian styles?” Glifin said as he rose to his feet and walked over to Robinson as he pulled out a tiny box device and casually threw it down on the floor. The moment of contact it sprung open and in an instance a large set of mirrors emerged from it giving an impressive view from all sides.

“Oh far be it for me to question ones culture, “ Robinson continued as he opened the first bag and stepped aside for Glifin to see the contents, “but some would consider the amount of dead mammals your people adorn on themselves to be a tad morbid.”

From the corner of his eye Glifin saw Jafal’s face redden from anger but with a motion from his ambassador kept his tongue still.

“I would find it surprising for a human to find anything morbid with the amount of toxins you willingly consume.”

Robinson flashed a brief smile and shrugged. “You do have me there; personally caffeine will most likely be the end of me one day, but we’re not here to talk about my eventual demise.”

“An end that will come much sooner if you continue to waste my time with idle chatter.”

Humanities incessant need for small talk and idle conversation was something Glifin had never come to terms with; and this human fashion designer was by far the worst example he had ever put up with. Part of him viewed it as a challenge to see how long he could endure before snapping the tiny man’s neck, and though such a moment would no doubt bring him great pleasure the other part of him realized that Robinsons work was well regarded among prominent members of society. Not just with other humans, but with other alien dignitaries who had embassies on the human homeworld. It had been surprisingly an ambassador from the Hive that had recommended the human’s services when it was suggested that Glifin update his style to match his new role.

Walking up to the first black bag that Robinson had opened Glifin inspected the wardrobe.

Inside was a finely trimmed suit of Rygonian Leaper fur of a dark blue with a sash of Haponi tongue and a dashing pair of pants metal grey Roller Worm hide.

It was custom in Argonian culture to wear the skin of that which you have killed, thus the outfit before him was a prime example Glifin’s traditions.

“A fine work indeed,” Glifin said as he ran his fingers across the material, feeling the roughness against his skin. “For a human” he finished as he turned and smirked at Robinson.

“With the effort it took to obtain the materials you requested I would say it is nothing less than an example a miracle performed before your very eyes.”

Glifin stopped his examination of the attire and looked at the human. “For a miracle you sound so…displeased with your work.”

Robinson crossed his arms for a moment and pouted as if considering his next words.

“My work is perfection, I can assure you, but a man in my trade is not just meant to listen to the specifications of their client but their intention as well.”

“And your point?” Glifin queried.

After a moment he outstretched his hand and casually gestured to the Argonian clothing. “Is this really the message you want to be sending?”

Glifin looked at the suit again then back at Robinson. “I don’t understand.”

“If you go to the event dressed like this it will send the message that you still value your traditions, but I worry that it shows a disconnect with your current situation; almost as if you are attempting to relive the past.”

“You would appear as an old war hero trapped in past glories that the other guests would acknowledge, but not make to engage in conversation.”

Glifin opened to rebuke the human but stopped himself as he pondered the man’s words. Robinson stepped forward to the other black case. “Now this,” Robinson said as he slowly pulled down the zipper revealing the contents, “this would make you not only the talk of the party, but would make you the talk of the after party all the way back to your homeworld were many people would no doubt be very much interested in your on goings.”

“Each piece has been designed by some of the most dangerous animals on this planet, and in some cases far more ravenous then anything back on your respectable homeworld.”

Robinson went about and pointed out the specific materials used one by one.

“The body is made from a powerful species that inhabits the various swamps and wetlands around the globe with jaws so powerful they could cut you in two with a single bite.”

“Each of the buttons along the coat are the fangs of the most poisonous reptilian creatures on the planet; each one capable of killing a human let alone an Argonia ten times over with a single drop of their venom.”

“Now the pants I am particularly proud of as they are the skin of the deadliest hunter of all the planets seas. They can smell fresh blood from miles away and commonly take on prey twice their size.”

Gliffin heard Robinson go through the list of creatures but his expression remained emotionless.

“Why would these creatures be any more interesting than my own worlds?”

Robinson smiled. “Because everyone from your world already knows about them and have hunted the same creatures for generations. Yet I would be so bold as to wager my humble shop that none of them have ever faced down the black eyed stare of a great white shark, nor wrestled the deadly crocodile demons of the swamps, and most certainly have been quick enough to pluck out the teeth of rattle snakes just as they lunge to strike.”

“Neither have I,” Gliffin said with a hint of disgust in his tone, “and you would make a liar out of me for saying so.”

“My dear ambassador, who but you could say what you do or don’t in your free time?”

Robinson leaned forward and whispered into Gliffin’s ear “I am no doubt sure many of your females would find the idea of a striking Argonian such as yourself sneaking off to go hunting the unknown for sport a rather attractive quality.”

Glifin looked at the new set of clothing and then back at the original set of traditional clothes. He went back and forth for several moments before finally settling his gaze on the traditional garments.

“Take these away.”

_______________________________________

The lights outside Robinson’s humble shop slowly went off one by one as he walked between the displays straightening out garments and folding tossed aside pieces customers had casually put aside when the door rang.

“I’m sorry but we are closed for the night.” Robinson said as he returned behind the counter with a stack of clothes.

The figure slowly approached the counter and took off their hat. Robinson looked up from the register to see the figure was a Rohanan; a species known for its gel like appearance yet could collect random bits and bobs to create a sudo skeleton and present themselves as humanoid.

“That’s alright,” the Rohanan said, “I am here to pay for a set I ordered for a….friend.”

“Then they are most fortunate to have a friend such as you then.”

Robinson’s smiling nature unnerved the Rohanan but nonetheless they placed a small envelope on the table and slid it across. Robinson placed a hand on it and tapped his fingers several times against the contents inside before opening it and spilling the credit chips on to the table.

“Is it satisfactory?” the Rohanan said, their nervousness building as the human finished counting the chips.

“Oh yes indeed; I believe you have paid in full for your order.” With a swipe of his hand the human pushed the chips back into the envelope and sealed it. “Always a pleasure to deal with such an honest and upstanding man such as yourself during such troubling times.”

Robinson leaned in towards the Rohanan, his expression shifting from smiling to one of mild concern. “I heard there was a most unfortunate incident up at the Argonian embassy several nights ago.”

“Several guests including the visiting prince and ambassador himself all died from poisoning.” The Rohanan confirmed.

“How gruesome!” Robinson said as he recoiled in shock and finished putting away the remaining clothes while he talked over his shoulder.

The Rohanan regarded the human for a moment before continuing. “The strangest thing was that the poison was not native to this world, but is most common in the Hagar system under Dovorian rule.”

“A most embarrassing situation I am sure considering the Dovorian and Argonian people despise each other.”

“Indeed; one might wonder how such a toxin came into contact with them.”

Robinson shrugged and turned as he finished placing the final shirt back into the display. “With all of those fangs, bones, and animal skins I would not be surprised if someone grabbed a tooth or two that hadn’t been fully drained of its contents.”

The Rohanan laughed and placed their hat back on their head just as they stopped at the door.

“You were worth every penny, assassin.”

“An assassin you say?” Robinson’s smile returned and he casually waved to the departing customer “You must have me mistaken for someone else, as I am but a simple tailor.”

[earth-ambassador-jim]

More troll adopting humans and Vice versa

A Helping Hand

AO3 - Fanfiction

How about a wizard adopting a changeling?

~~~~

~~~~

What had been shaping up to be a rather boring day at the market takes a turn when a young boy darts behind Douxie’s herb cart. Douxie, who had almost been asleep, blinks uncomprehendingly as the boy stares up at him with pleading eyes.

“Don’t tell them I’m here,” He whispers.

The young wizard doesn’t get a chance to say anything because at that exact moment a group of city guards rounds the corner. They are brandishing spears and breathing hard as if they’d been running for a while.

“You there!” One of them barks at Douxie. “Have you seen a boy run by? Brown hair, green tunic?”

At his feet the boy presses up against the cart. He’s shaking now. Douxie makes a snap decision. He doesn’t know what the boy has or hasn’t done but he’s not about to hand a child over to a group of armed men without knowing why.

“I haven’t,” Douxie says leaning casually against his cart.

The man lets out a disappointed huff and then turns to his men.

“Split up. We can’t let him get away.”

He turns back to Douxie.

“If you see him, tell us. He’ll be sporting a burn mark on his cheek. You can try to catch him yourself if your feel up to it -there’s a reward- but be careful because he’s very dangerous.”

Douxie resists the urge to look down to see if his stow-away has a burn.

“Sure,” He says. “But what’s a kid done to warrant that if you don’t mind my asking?”

“He’s a changeling,” The guard growls. “No one suspected him until he got kicked by a horse this morning. The iron shoe revealed him for the demon he really is. The guard who was close by tried to grab him, but the little monster bit him. We’ve been chasing him all morning.”

“A changeling here huh?” Douxie says. “Crazy.”

The guard grunts in agreement and then heads off down the road, leaving Douxie to ponder his best course of action. He glances down at the boy. Sure enough, there’s a burn mark on his cheek. He looks to be about five or six.

Douxie comes to a decision.

“I was just fixing to head out for the day,” He tells the boy. “Why don’t you hide in my cart and I’ll get you out of this place?”

The boy stills.

“You… you’re helping me?” Then his eyes narrow. “No. You’re going to hand me over aren’t you? You want the reward.”

Douxie huffed.

“Kid. If I was going to hand you over, I would have already done so. You can take my offer or leave it but do you really want to run around out in the open?”

The boy hesitates, watching him warily for a moment. There’s a shout in the distance and he flinches. He climbs quickly into the cart and covers himself up with the canvas.

Douxie packs up his herbs and then they’re on their way. He takes the south gate out of town because the guard there is always lazy and doesn’t check carts very thoroughly. He makes it through with no hassle.

Once he’s about a mile away from the forest he turns off the main road into the forest. His passenger notices the change in terrane and his head pokes out.

“Where are we going?” He demands, trying to quickly get out of the canvas but getting tangled up in his haste.

“To my camp,” Douxie says.

He slows down and then stops as the boy keeps struggling.

“Need a hand?”

The boy flinches when Douxie reaches out to him, so he withdraws.

“I just want to help you,” He tells him. “You don’t have a place to go, right?”

“No,” He admits. “But what’s in it for you?”

“Nothing really,” Douxie says with a shrug. “But…”

He hesitates. His own secret is almost as dangerous as the boy’s.

He looks into the fearful green eyes and then thinks: What the heck?

He holds out his hand and lets some of his magic gather around it. The changeling’s eyes widen as they follow the wisps of blue light.

“I’m a wizard,” He says. “Let’s just say I know a thing or two about getting chased out of towns by an angry mob.”

The changeling doesn’t quite loose his wariness.

“Do you need something from a changeling to make a potion?” He asks, finally getting himself untangled. “I heard that wizards sometimes use changeling bones for stuff.”

Douxie groans and drags his hand down his face.

“For the last time, I just want to help you out,” He says with a sigh. “Look if you find out I’m lying feel free to steal all my gold or whatever and run off into the forest.”

The changeling considers that and then settles back down in the cart.

In about ten minutes they reach the cave where Douxie has been staying. Once he’s out of the sun, the changeling side-eyes Douxie and then transforms into his troll form in a flash. He’s a little green thing, with big brown wings that look much too large for him.

“A changeling,” A voice says from the back of the cave. The kid’s wings flare out in alarm. “Really Douxie?”

Archie, in dragon form, emerges from the shadows.

“The town guard was chasing him around in a mob, okay. If they’d caught him they’d try to torture the location of his familiar out of him and you know as well as I do just how pointless that is.”

“Perhaps,” Archie says. He looks like he’s going to say more but Douxie shoots him a pointed look.

“Fine,” The familiar huffs. “I’ve caught dinner. I imagine you’ll want to cook it.”

“Definitely,” Douxie says going to a corner of the cave to get the wood.

~~~~

“So what’s your name?” Douxie asks his guest over dinner.

The changeling stiffens at being addressed.

“Waltolomew Stricklander,” He says.

Douxie blinks.

“And I thought my name was a mouthful,” He says. “Mind if I call you ‘Walt’?”

The changeling slowly nods.

“Excellent. I am Hisirdoux Casperan, but you may call me Douxie and this is my familiar Archie.”

“Nice to meet you,” Walt says in an automatic sort of way.

“Likewise.”

Looking at his clothes, Douxie figures that he probably belonged to a good house before he got outed as a changeling.

“So Walt,” Douxie says, figuring he ought to try to get to know the kid a little better. “What do you like to do?”

Walt slowly finishes chewing the bite he’d taken out of the rabbit leg.

“I like reading,” He says slowly. “My… familiar’s father was teaching me how to play chess.”

That confirms Douxie’s theory that he had been planted in a well to do house. It’s definitely best for the kid if he gets far away from here. More money generally means more people will be hunting for the runaway.

“Nice,” Douxie says. “I’ll have to see if I can make us some chess pieces then.”

Walt blinks at that.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Douxie asks, absently stroking Archie who has settled across his lap.

“Why would you make chess pieces? I’m not going to be around that long.”

Ah… That’s what this is about.

“Are you leaving?” He asks.

The changeling shrugs.

“Well, if you decide you want to have some company for a while. You’re welcome to stick around,” Douxie says. “It’s always just me and Archie.”

Archie gives him a look which he chooses to ignore.

Walter’s wings are just slightly wrapped around him. He’s still keeping the fire between them.

“Think about it and let me know in the morning,” Douxie says with a shrug. “I’m going to be moving on tomorrow.”

Walter nods.

~~~~

Douxie wakes up at some point during the night to Archie poking at him. He shoots a blank glare into the dark but gets up anyway. The fires still glowing so Douxie heads over to it, dragging his cloak with him.

He pauses when he spots a small form curled up in the corner. It looks like Walt is finally asleep. Douxie hesitates a moment and then walks over to him. The changeling looks so small curled into a ball with his wings wrapped around him. Douxie wonders how old he actually is. Changelings are always older than they look, in part simply because of the rate trolls age at, but this one seems young. He could just be a good actor of course.

Douxie wraps his cloak around the small figure and returns to where Archie is waiting by the fire.

“So why are you trying to convince a changeling to travel with us?” The dragon-cat asks irritably. ‘Do you want us to get sold out to his comrades at the next town we get to?”

Douxie huffs.

“Look Arch,” He says. “I couldn’t just leave him there. They were going to kill him!”

“Rescuing is one thing, but you didn’t need to bring him here, let alone ask him to start traveling with us. What are you thinking?”

Douxie sighs and stares into the fire.

“He reminds me of myself. Okay?”

Archie blinks and then cocks his head.

“I…” Douxie starts awkwardly. “Back when my magic first manifested my town… my family… they didn’t take it well. I told you about that.”

Archie nods but doesn’t say anything waiting for him to continue.

“Seeing Walt today, on the run for something he ultimately didn’t get a choice in reminded me of that.”

Douxie shivers. He remembers the cries of “witch!” The fear in the eyes of the people he’d grown up with. The hatred.

He doesn’t realize he’s scratching at his scars until Archie buts his head against his hand. He gives his familiar a grateful smile and starts stroking his head.

“I didn’t have anyone for a long time after that. Not until I met you,” He continues. “It… It was lonely and scary and… I guess when I saw Walt today.” There’s a lump in his throat. He remembers the changeling’s familiar scared eyes looking up at him. He swallows hard. “I thought that it would be nice if he didn’t have to go through that.”

They sit in silence for a while. The soft night noises filter into the cave and the fire flickers gently.

Archie sighs.

“Very well. If… Walt… wants to stay he can. I will support your decision.”

Douxie grins down at his familiar. He swipes quickly at his eyes and then pulls him into a hug.

“Thanks, Archie. You’re the best.”

His familiar’s quiet purrs belie his grumbling.

~~~~

When Douxie wakes up in the morning. There’s a second set of wings wrapped around him. He cracks open his eyes and finds that Walt has cuddled up to them during the night. The little changeling’s head is pressed up against his chest and his wings are wrapped around him and Archie. Douxie’s cloak is over the three of them.

~~~~

~~~~

Author Notes:

Walt was listening in when Douxie and Archie were talking.

I'm trying to get caught up on my asks. This has been in my inbox for a while. Hope you find this Anon!

Some fun thoughts on this AU: ~Douxie kind of ends up being Walt's father figure in this. ~Walt doesn't usually call him "Dad" though unless he's feeling particularly emotional or being sarcastic. ~Due to their appearances Walt sometimes has had to pretend that he's Douxie's father, which is always weird for them. ~Walt ends up becoming Douxie's apprentice and learning magic. ~He isn't connected to the Janus Order because they think he got killed when he was exposed. He's fine with that. ~When he finds out about Jim being the Trollhunter he tells Douxie (who was out of town at the time.) ~Jim and Toby are very confused when they ask about how Douxie and Strickler are related and Strickler says that Douxie raised him. Their graying history teacher referring to what looks like a 19 year old as his father does not compute.

[robinofinashiro]

scenario: feitan gets jealous seeing how many men come into your store to flirt with you. 

characters: feitan portor x fem! reader 

request status: OPEN / semi-au! pls send in req’s :) all fandoms and rules are pinned to the top of my blog and i’m more than willing to elaborate on questions if any of you have any! also, if any of you guess the song i mentioned below and who it’s by, i swear i will write prioritize a fic for you for recognizing it lmao.

voy a ser tu ex, el tóxico, el innombrable. una pesadilla, un dolor de muelas.

i’m going to be your ex, the toxic, the unmentionable. a nightmare, a pain in your molars. 

you smiled at your customer, who was taking his sweet time ordering his cupcakes as the line behind him started getting antsy to order. your bakery was the busiest in all of York New and when the rush hour started, you were on your feet for at least two hours. 

the small bakery that once started in Meteor City soon turned into a bigger city when you finally had the means to move your shop into a bigger building. you had to give a big thank you to all of the Phantom Troupe Mafia who helped you financially with the costs of buying your space. 

your relationship with the one they called Feitan Portor was the one who helped most of all. the two of you knew each other since childhood and when he finally left Meteor City in order to join his fate with the Phantom Troupe Mafia, he was a bit saddened that he had to leave you behind. 

when he finally returned, years later, he was surprised to see how well you were doing for yourself. you had a small bakery cart outside of your house and sold only a few cupcakes a day but when word got out of how good they were, you were slammed with orders and Feitan couldn’t help but be proud of you. 

he knew you would eventually leave Meteor City. you weren’t the type of girl to leave such a shit life there and although he practically begged that you didn’t follow his footsteps, he found relief when he reunited with you and saw you selling the cute cupcakes you loved to make. 

your relationship with Feitan was very odd, one could say. whenever the two of you were together, it was like you were both in a relationship but Feitan had never made it official and there would be days where you would go on dates with guys who came into your store to ask. 

“here you go!” you exclaimed happily, “two vanilla cupcakes and one red velvet! i hope you enjoy,” you called the next person who was up but the guy remained in his place, “you doing anything tonight?” he asked suddenly. 

the girl behind him growled, annoyed that he stayed. “um, I’m sorry but I do have plans later,” you lied awkwardly. he rolled his eyes, “baby, it’s the middle of December and it’s freezing outside, what plans do you have?” he stated, scooching on the counter. 

“sir, there’s a line behind you, can you please move so i can to the woman behind you?” you asked nicely. he was about to talk when a hand reached to his and twisted it, making the man drop his cupcakes, “leave or your hand will be on the ground along with those cupcakes.” 

you instantly perked up at the sound of the voice, “Feitan!” you exclaimed, seeing the short man along with his friends, Phinks, Shizuku, and Shalnark. he gave you a tiny smile as the guy was doubled over in pain, “move you shit,” he stated, kicking the man to the side the woman could finally order.

you quickly took her order before telling one of your assistants to take over the register so you could attend to Feitan and his friends. the three boys were dressed in complete black suits as Shizuku was dressed in black pants and a her usual black turtle neck with the cross necklace. 

“what are you guys doing in York New?” you asked. Shalnark smiled to you, “we’re done with our business for the moment so we all settled here for the moment,” he explained as Phink’s stood next to you and smiled, “sweetheart, what’re the flavors you have available?” he asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. 

you looked to your tab as Feitan stared at Phink’s, ready to kill him for the way he was acting around you. “we have red velvet, strawberry, blueberry, vanilla, and cinnamon for the moment? what’re all of you interested in?” you asked, getting a pen to take the order down. 

Phinks asked for a simple vanilla as Shizuku asked for two strawberry’s and Shalnark asked for a surprise. you knew Feitan wasn’t one to have a sweet tooth but you still asked to which he denied almost immediately, still glaring at Phink’s for his ‘joke’. 

you walked to the back where the freshest cupcakes were at. you only had one other worker with you running the store as you hardly put your trust in any outsider. you knew with your connections to Feitan, it would be very irresponsible to have a civilian working alongside with you and being potentially put in danger. plus, you tried to keep your ingredients to yourself and you the only reason why you trust your assistant was because she had also grown up in Meteor City. 

“hey,” Feitan said, walking into the kitchen, surprised at how clean it was. you smiled as he brought you in for a rough kiss, catching you by surprise. Feitan’s kisses were always very rough or very intimate, never in the middle. “busy today?” he asked, sitting on the metal table. 

you shook your head no, “no plans outside of prepping a few things and going back home. why do you ask?” you placed all of the cupcakes they ordered on a tray and facing him, “taking you out after you’re done here so be ready,” he stated before walking out of the kitchen. 

you walked out shortly after, seeing that the line was now a lot shorter and your assistant was placing the last few cupcakes on the box. you walked to the counter after giving Feitan’s friends their cupcakes and taking over the register once again. 

you were overhearing the few conversations that were going around in the shop until you heard the bell that indicated that someone walked in go off. you looked up to see one of your regulars and a guy who asked you out for dinner every once and a while. 

“Rendai, how are you?” you asked, giving him a smile. he gave you a smirk, placing himself comfortably on the counter as he overlooked the cupcakes, “two red velvet’s and a cinnamon babe,” Feitan instantly looked over as soon as he heard the name. 

“here ya go, it’s on the house,” you said, handing him the box, “as a payment for buying my dinner last week.” Feitan was taken back when he heard the reason. if he was buying your dinner, god knows what else the two of you were doing when he wasn’t here. 

“ah, the second leader is mad,” Shizuku said giggling. Phink’s shook his head in disbelief, “you can’t expect her to wait for you on hand and foot when you’re always gone,” he explained, seeing the way the guy was making you laugh and blush slightly at whatever he was saying.

Feitan, having enough of what he was seeing, got up from the table, practically kicking in the chair before going behind the counter and sitting on the counter behind you. Feitan, excluding his height, was a very intimidating and one look at a person usually left with them running away scared. 

he sat behind you, flicking his pocket knife up and down as he stared at Rendai. “uh, who is that?” he asked nervously, not knowing why a guy dressed in all black was staring at him. you grabbed Feitan’s hand, “this is Feitan. he helped me bring this shop to life...he’s a very important person in my life,” you explained. 

Feitan didn’t say a word but he felt a sense of relief as you explained who he was to the idiot in front of him. you heard the timer go off indicating that another batch of cupcakes were done and left Feitan at the counter with Rendai. 

“i’d suggest you leave right now before you walk out here with a missing limb,” Feitan said as smoothly as possible. Rendai was taken back, not understanding the situation as Shalnark, Shizuku, and Phink’s walked behind him, “this is a yakuza ran bakery and if you get in the way of my friend Feitan’s relationship with ( your name ), it’s going to be real sad seeing your lifeless body found dead in a ditch somewhere with your limbs in different creeks.” 

Rendai felt himself fall stiff as Feitan pushed him away, basically kicking him into the ground as he scurried away. Feitan gave Phink’s a silent thank you as you walked out of the kitchen, mildly disappointment that Rendai had left without telling you goodbye. 

“we’re leaving!” Shizuku said happily, giving you a quick hug as Phink’s and Shalnark waved you a goodbye, “we’ll see ya later, I guess,” Shalnark said as Phink’s kicked him out the door. you loved all of Feitan’s friends, finding it odd that all of their personalities somehow worked together even though one member was not like the other. 

the shop was dwindling down to its last hour as your assistant had told you goodbye and the last few customers were leaving. you knew many people hated Christmas music but since it was right around the corner, you played the music lowly in the store, blaming it on your assistant whenever someone complained even though it was you who guiltily enjoyed it.

“Feitan, can you hand me the broom?” you asked, locking the doors and flipping the sign to closed. he handed you the broom, seeing you quickly sweep the door shut as you sang/mumbled to ‘wonderful christmastime” by Paul McCartney. 

he couldn’t help but laugh at the way you were singing to the song, not giving a fuck who heard. a bit of him still felt betrayed for the situation with Rendai but all you needed was a little reminder of who you belong too, right? 

Feitan walked up right behind you, grasping your wrist softly as you gasped at the sudden contact, “something wrong?” you asked, quietly. his eyebrow lifted before chuckling, “that Rendai boy was too close for my liking,” he stated. 

you laughed, not believing what he was saying. 

“he was just friend, Fei, nothing to worry about,” you answered, going back to sweeping. he dismissed what you said before grabbing your wrist and holding your face with his hand, “he bought you dinner and called you names only I’m allowed too, that isn’t just a friend,” he replied. 

“Feitan, what do you want from me?” you asked, pushing yourself back but you couldn’t. Feitan’s grip was too strong to release yourself. “you’re mine, whether you like it or not. I thought I made that clear to you a long time ago.” you tried not to roll your eyes but it was hard when Feitan was basically talking gibberish to you. 

“you’re gone almost all the time, whenever we’re together, it’s only for two or three days before you leave again so sue me for wanting to find someone who’s around more often,” you retorted. Feitan scoffed, “that’s too bad because you’re still mine. I might not be here often but I guess I’ll have to be if that means you’ll get the point.” 

you sighed, not knowing what to say, “i’ll be here by your side, like a tooth pain if i have too,” you laughed, before replying to him with a quick kiss. he returned it without hesitation and deepened it by grabbing you by the shirt and slipping in his tongue, making you moan rather quickly. 

“hurry up and finish so we can leave.” 

+

the following morning, you woke up in your bed with Feitan missing. a part of you was disappointed as you thought that he was going to keep true to his word but it was Feitan, he wasn’t really one to be trusted at times. 

you crawled out of bed, slipping on his shirt from the night before as you ran your fingers through your hair as you felt something on your left ring finger. your eyes widened, seeing the rock of a ring on your finger. were you engaged? you still remembered everything from last night but the one thing you didn’t remember was getting fucking engaged. 

you walked into to your bathroom, not believing what the hell was going on when you saw a stickie note on the mirror. 

“went to get lunch considering your insufferable ass probably won’t be up until mid noon. i’ll see you in a few Mrs.Portor.” 

you heart fell to your stomach as you read your name with Feitan’s last name attached. ( your name ) Portor. didn’t sound too bad. you knew Feitan wasn’t a man of many words to begin with so you figured he must’ve slipped the ring on your finger when you were asleep, figuring you’d say yes regardless if he asked you when you were awake or asleep. 

the ring was huge but you knew with Feitan’s ‘job’ it must’ve been nothing to him and he had told you a countless amount of times that nothing was too much for you and that you only deserved the best. you smiled down at the ring, butterflies in your stomach as heard the door opening. 

your future husband was finally walking in. 

[tossawary]

I need to know more about “SVSSS - Baby Brother Liu Qingge” bc I love tiny and very deadly baby LQG

I have a 3k-ish Shang Qinghua POV that was supposed to be the introduction to this fic concept! So... ah... baby Liu Qingge does not appear in this, but you can see the setup for how an 8yo-ish Liu Qingge was supposed to be introduced. My hope is that this will someday become a "Shang Qinghua and Shen Jiu go on a mission with Baby Brother Liu Qingge" one shot.

-cut-

Shang Qinghua didn't really have the words to describe what it was like having Proud Immortal Demon Way's characters finally come into his second life.

He didn't have the words to describe a lot of his transmigration experience, honestly! His words had described a lot of this world already, haha, hadn't they? Sometimes a person just had to put up with it and keep going.

And then excuse himself later to go scream into a pillow! Many times!

At first, life was just him in a body that didn't fit and strange memories that slipped between his fingers like sand. His memories of a past life had settled eventually, the System finally came fully online, and his relationship with his second family was fully fucked forever. That was fine, though! That was fine! With some unsolicited prodding from his System, he left to go seek his fortune soon enough and he never had to talk to his character's birth parents or siblings again.

But Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had never said much of anything about Shang Qinghua’s family or home village, besides saying that the man had dreamed of more than his mediocre origins, so everything had been unfamiliar and original and real. Getting to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, which he had described in great detail, was a real headfuck. There were no words for the experience of recognizing things that he’d written in another life.

He saw the glistening rainbow bridge and the intimidating sect entrance and the majestic meeting hall on Qiong Ding, and he nearly screamed. He definitely squawked. His vision got really fuzzy for a minute there and he had to sit down on the ground before he fell over. What the fuck?! What the fuck?! He’d made a world! The System had really made a world out of his web-novel! He was really stuck in Proud Immortal Demon Way!

There were upsides and downsides to joining Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. Downsides included: the hard training, the harder workload, the dangerous missions, the disrespect towards An Ding Peak, and being surrounded by arrogant and foolish teenagers looking to look down on someone. It was really something else to look some of them in the eye and think, "Bro, I don’t know your name, but you kind of owe your existence to me. Could you stop being such a fucking asshole about leaving your chores for me to do?! Respect your father!"

Upsides included: actually becoming a cultivator (pretty cool, even though the work of cultivation sucked more often than not), better living accommodations and food, and actually getting to see some of the cooler places, plants, monsters, and magic that were a part of his world. Sure, carting a monster corpse brought in by Bai Zhan Peak to Xi Jiao Peak for butchering was smelly and heavy and altogether miserable, but seeing an impossible animal was still kind of incredible. If this unwilling Shang Qinghua could stop being pushed around and stepped on long enough to appreciate the upsides, he’d really appreciate it!

It was interesting and infuriating to log the differences between what he’d imagined, what he’d written, and what the System had created. What sort of author described every single object in every single room? Who had time for that? Who wanted to read that? The System had filled in all the living details of An Ding Peak - the Leisure Houses, the training grounds, the storehouses, the warehouses, the kitchens, the lesson halls, the leisure gardens, the farming fields, the livestock fields, the stables, the cart lot, the water supply, the sewage systems, and so on - so that people could actually live here. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky as an author had done many things worthy of complaint and criticism, but wasting his readers’ time with sewage systems was not one of them!

The System had also filled in all the little details and decorations - the paintings on the walls of sect history, the detailing on the rooftops supposedly offering protections from dream demons, the chipped and faded paint of old storehouses that disciples would be tasked with replacing, the statues in the fields to scare off scavengers, the carvings on the doors meant to reduce resentful energy, the childish etchings of bored students the surface of the lesson hall desks, the old bench where the An Ding Peak Lord liked to sit and eat flatcakes - so that it really seemed like people had built this place and maintained it and added to it for generations.

Shang Qinghua had his quibbles here and there. Sometimes the System had made choices that he objected to! He would have done it differently if it had asked him, the author, to contribute. He really felt as though the System should have asked him to clarify the plot holes and the gaps in detail, instead of choosing precedence randomly or building off random implications taken way too literally.

Sometimes he found out that the System had built things out of throwaway lines that Shang Qinghua himself had completely forgotten about. It turned out that Ku Xing Peak made a lot of purification tools and containment vessels because Airplane had offhandedly mentioned that this was their specialty, and now Shang Qinghua had to cart around delicate ceramics to be sold to city merchants or other cultivation sects. He never would have dared to write that if he’d known that it would one day in another life be his job to do things like take inventory and chase down signatures for successful deliveries.

Places, items, and creatures were one thing, but logging the differences between the people he met and the characters he’d created was something else. At first it was okay, because he was surrounded by nameless An Ding Peak nobodies - his fellow disciples, their teachers, the hardworking managers and merchants, even the peak lord - none of them had ever mattered in Proud Immortal Demon Way. If Airplane had been the one to name any of them, he didn’t recognize the names or remember them.

Then he met Yue Qingyuan.

Wow, it was a worse headfuck than first arriving at Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, when Shang Qinghua finally realized that this was the young version of one of his actual characters. It took him a minute. As a lowly outer disciple, Shang Qinghua hadn’t received “Qinghua” as a name yet (his name was Houhua, not that anyone ever used it) and the future Yue Qingyuan was still called Yue Qi.

Shang Qinghua was fourteen at the time. Yue Qingyuan must have been around the same age, so he didn’t strike the tall and handsome figure of the sect leader Airplane had described. The boy was broad, but actually a little short. He had freckles. He had acne.

But he also had a warm smile that seemed to go all the way to his eyes when he offered to give Shang Qinghua directions to the right office on Qiong Ding. He had a steady hand when he helped Shang Qinghua up, after the An Ding disciple had suddenly tripped over nothing upon being introduced. Yue Qingyuan - Yue Qi - walked him to the right office and did his best to make small talk, friendly and kind even though Shang Qinghua was having difficulty stringing more than a few words together in his shock.

Even then, it was obvious that the boy was developing the calm surety and the social charm that would make him a greatly admired sect leader someday! It was all Shang Qinghua could do not to blurt out: “Holy shit, you’re REAL?!” Which would be closely followed by: “Hey, is Shen Qingqiu really real too?!” And then maybe closely followed by: “FUCK!!!”

As the years went by, Shang Qinghua met more of Proud Immortal Demon Way’s characters, and it was weird every time. None of them were exactly like he was expecting. He kept expecting… well… he kept expecting them to look like the fanart, like flawless character models, more or less. Instead, he kept getting… people.

Wei Qingwei, head disciple of the sword-focused Wan Jian Peak, was also shorter than he was expecting, kind of stout, with a wide face and a wider smile. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had apparently had the man crack a few jokes upon his rare appearances in the web-novel, usually during tense situations, as he was reminded by the System upon thinking to himself: “Why is this guy LIKE THIS?!” So, because of just a few lines, the real Wei Qingwei had a relentless sense of humor and loved telling jokes.

Upon their first meeting, when Shang Qinghua was fifteen and had been sent over to help renovate some Wan Jian dormitories, fifteen-year-old Wei Qingwei had pretended to fumble a sword and, using a packet of dye and a sleight of hand, made it look like he’d accidentally cut off his own hand at the wrist. Of course Shang Qinghua had screamed and panicked! Anyone would panic! But Wei Qingwei had laughed at him and said, “Got you! Shang-Shidi, the sword wasn’t even unsheathed!” Asshole!

Qi Qingqi, the head disciple of Xian Shu Peak, was much taller than he was expecting. Apparently Airplane had once described a group of some of the peak lords by saying something like: “Each one of them was like a giant to young Luo Binghe.” That group had included Qi Qingqi. The System apparently had taken that to mean that Qi Qingqi was of a height with the likes of Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu. Shang Qinghua discovered this adaptational choice when he was almost sixteen, when this giraffe-like girl came to An Ding Peak to complain about an order someone along the pipeline had dropped completely, and he accidentally found himself (still waiting on a really good growth spurt) eye-level with Qi Qingqi’s chest.

Airplane had apparently once said in Proud Immortal Demon Way that Qian Cao Peak Lord Mu Qingfang appeared a little older than his colleagues, by which he’d probably meant that the man was just tired or something, but this head disciple Mu Qingfang appeared to have ten years on all the other head disciples. Which was good! Shang Qinghua approved of their future head healer not being a teenager and having more training!

On the bad side of things, Airplane had also once said in Proud Immortal Demon Way that the Zui Xian Peak Lord Zhang Qingyan liked his drink too much. This was the peak specializing in alcohol, so it had seemed to make sense! It was supposed to be funny, if anything! Well, at sixteen, Shang Qinghua found out that the System had focused too much on the “too much” part of that statement and now the head disciple of Zui Xian Peak was pretty clearly a budding alcoholic. (Sometimes a cultivator’s constitution and ability to “cure” themselves just… made a person drink more. A lot more.) Which was… not good.

At seventeen, Shang Qinghua met Mobei-Jun.

He didn’t know where to get started with Mobei-Jun.

Somehow he’d… forgotten that Mobei-Jun had been originally based on Airplane’s idea of “the perfect man” and not the super pretty, muscular but slim-waisted protagonist type? The real Mobei-Jun was… tall… and big… and thick. Mobei-Jun’s intimidating features were… more striking than pretty. The first time Shang Qinghua had come back to his Leisure House and found this spoiled brat of an ice demon napping shirtless on his bed, and gotten an eyeful of all that heavy muscle and chest hair, he’d nearly knocked himself out on the doorframe trying to turn away before he had a heart attack.

Mobei-Jun really was going to be the death of him, holy shit.

Especially because this ice demon really was a spoiled brat! Airplane had described this character as being arrogant and apathetic, so now Shang Qinghua had to deal with a Mobei-Jun who took long baths and then carelessly dripped water all over the floor and all over fresh sheets! Who ate all of Shang Qinghua’s cooking and ungratefully only demanded more food, sprawled over furniture not really fit for someone of his size, and then watched Shang Qinghua like a fat tiger! Ahhh, this demon really was lucky he was handsome!

Mobei-Jun was also kind of violent, and mean, which was… well, it sucked.

Back to the sect that Shang Qinghua was now actively betraying, however, as far as he could see, there was still one future peak lord missing.

It wasn’t Shen Qingqiu, who Shang Qinghua had thought would be the last one to show up. Shen Qingqiu had shown up and had been advancing through the ranks of Qing Jing Peak before Shang Qinghua had even met Mobei-Jun, which meant that Yue Qingyuan had finally stopped looking like someone had torn out his soul. (Shang Qinghua had been forced to grit his teeth every time that someone mentioned how privileged that Yue Qingyuan was to have been granted that year of secluded cultivation in the Lingxi Caves at such a young age.)

No, of all the peak lords, it was Liu Qingge who Shang Qinghua had yet to meet.

After meeting Mobei-Jun and becoming an inner disciple, the System had given Shang Qinghua three years to make it to head disciple, probably because the deadline for a new generation of peak lords to ascend was fast approaching. He was working hard to achieve that! Not only did he have to sabotage the current favorite, but he had to make sure all his own training, missions, work, and research were as close to flawless as he could get it! All while keeping an intruding ice demon happy! He wasn’t totally sure that he was going to make it at this rate, even though he’d been here for years.

So it was a little concerning that Liu Qingge hadn't shown up yet. There was so much left to do. A world-state that had yet to be established. Liu Qingge had work to do here!

Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu still had to develop a hatred for each other as disciples that would extend to everyone believing that Shen Qingqiu had murdered Liu Qingge as peak lords, after all. Granted, all Liu Qingge really had to do was beat everyone else on Bai Zhan Peak up to obtain the position, and it wasn’t exactly hard to get Shen Qingqiu to develop a lifelong grudge, but the guy was still cutting it pretty close.

It was possible that Liu Qingge was already on Bai Zhan Peak and making good progress, but that he was just so solitary and focused on searching out the next big battle that Shang Qinghua had just never had the opportunity to meet him. Shang Qinghua did his best to avoid Bai Zhan Peak most of the time, honestly! He was curious about where Liu Qingge was, about what the man looked like, but he didn’t let himself sweat at not seeing the future war god, when he already had so many things to sweat about. The System had taken care of bringing in everyone else, so Shang Qinghua was sure that Liu Qingge would follow sooner or later.

Shang Qinghua’s first sign that something was wrong was that, on the day that Liu Qingge finally announced his existence by beating up everyone on Bai Zhan Peak, everyone was saying things like, “I can’t believe some kid managed to topple all of Bai Zhan like that!”

He… may or may not have ignored this sign.

To be fair to this poor writer-turned-disciple, though, he’d been up all night finishing some paperwork catastrophe the An Ding Peak Lord had thrown at him to fix, as some kind of “test” of his logistics skills. Upon hearing the latest gossip, Shang Qinghua thought, “Oh, finally?” And then his overtired brain collapsed from the effort of thinking two words together in a sentence, and all he could manage from there was to feel the intense need to go to bed at a maximum, static-y volume. No words. No more thinky thoughts. Just the need for speedy sleep.

He stumbled through the rest of his day and then passed out for 18 hours straight. In hindsight, this would have been the time when the gossip was at its hottest. He missed all of it.

When he woke up, everyone was still dealing with the aftermath of what had happened on Bai Zhan Peak, but the conversation had shifted more towards replacing Qian Cao Peak’s depleted supplies and the repairs to Bai Zhan’s training grounds. Liu Qingge was the name on everyone’s lips, still, but everyone knew the basic information now. Now, everyone was just exclaiming over and over again how unbelievably young (and pretty) he was to have bested every other disciple on the sect battle-focused peak. This didn't seem too strange.

The System probably would have based the War God's appearance on his sister, Liu Mingyan, a strong contender for the most beautiful woman in all of Proud Immortal Demon Way. Liu Qingge apparently being a very pretty boy fell neatly into line with all the other character design surprises that Shang Qinghua had gotten smacked with so far.

If Airplane had known that he'd be transmigrating into his novel, maybe there would have been even more handsome men! And everyone would have lived happily ever after and nothing bad would have happened ever, probably, but also there might be more sexy guys too.

-

TBC

[softyoongiionly]

Portraits of a Tiger|| 01

Legends of a great and equally terrifying warrior nicknamed the Tiger have been emerging from your fellow villagers for quite sometime. Stories of his skill, his stealth and his supposed wickedness have been passed around to the point where he is more prophecy than person. You have lived your life with a strong sense of conviction, rarely letting gossip influence your opinion. However, you would be lying if you said that his legacy didn’t intrigue you. When the Tiger and his infamous army arrive in your village to refuel, you come face to face with the man behind the myth.

And no amount of marketplace gossip would ever be enough to capture the true complexity of his nature.

Pairing: Merchant! Reader x Warrior! Yoongi

Genre: Adventure, Romance, Smut (later), Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: language, depictions of violence both verbal and physical however they are fairly mild, mentions of war and power dynamics, there will be smut in future parts so, (18+ only please).

Current Tag List: @bulletproofbirdy​ @gldnrecs​ @naajix​ @bluewhale52​ @nikkikenji​ @lustedkisses​

A/N: oh okayyyyy HELLO!!! Its here!!! Warrior! Yoongi is finally emerging from the depths of my writer blocked brain and I am SO happy you get to meet him. Once again, this series will be posted in parts just as Mama Mia! is and it may not necessarily follow a linear timeline. 

Also, I know I mentioned her in the tag list post but, SERIOUSLY you guys this story would not be possible without my wonderful friend @bulletbroofbirdy aka Rachel who has literally spent so much time dreaming up with wonderful universe with me. My sweet angel, you are the greatest in the world and I love you. Please go follow Rachel and send her all the love in the universe and thank her for her genius brain because, without her, this fic wouldn’t exist. 

War.  

It’s not an uncommon occurrence where you’re from.  

The ever-present shifting of the borderlines is a constant reminder of the struggle for power.

Many see it as a valiant effort, a noble cause...

But, war is something that doesn’t appeal to you.

It doesn’t sit right with your perspective on the world.

Sure, you understand it’s strengths and why it could be seen as necessary.

However, the consequences of war, of violence- never seem to be worth it.  

Death.

It’s not an uncommon occurrence where you’re from.  

When war is constantly raging on the background, it should be expected.  

It should be normal.  

To most of your district, it is.  

To you?

Every single rise in the death toll sends icy despair into your heart.  

Every drop of blood spilled feels as though it’s your own.  

You’re desperate to find the solution for peace but, you know it’s not that simple.  

Man is never content.

The struggle for power is never ending.  

As you grow up, you learn to adapt.  

Learning a trade is the easiest way to establish yourself so, you take up knitting and medicine.  

You sell your wears and remedies in the market every other day and spend your off days replenishing the stock that you sold.  

Your parents live comfortably but in order for them to do so, you’re in the market for hours on end.  

Today starts as any other.  

You’re gathering your wears in your family’s home as the sun is beginning to peak over the mountains.

The colors it throws through your window are breathtaking and, if you weren’t so exhausted, you’d be able to enjoy them a bit more.  

Thankfully, your preparations don’t wake your parents as they sleep soundly in their bed.  

You wish for nothing more than for them to be at peace every chance they get.  

They have sacrificed so much.

The market displays its usual scenery.  

The fishermen are always first setting up their catches from the evening prior, the butchers are hanging up their kills from the overnight hunt whilst the farmers arrange seasonal produce on their carts...

You always have your cart near the end of the market.  

It’s easier for people to think about softer things such as knitted blankets or healing elixirs once they’ve purchased their food.  

Thankfully, business is decent.  

Your wares are well-made and your elixirs have an exceptional success rate.

The prices are fair so you attract all walks of life but, you focus more on serving the lower class folk such as yourself.  

One of the fisherman, who you’ve grown acquainted with over the last few months, nods to your cart as you’re setting it up.

“What do you have today __?”

With a smile, you hold up a mauve woolen blanket which you’ve spent nearly two weeks on.

“This is the item of the day. I used a root dye to get the color- what do you think?”

He purses his lips, nodding in consideration, “I’m sure someone will snag that right away. It looks warm. It will be very useful over the next few months. Do you have any of that uh- “ Lowering his voice, he cranes his neck to assess whether or not any of his team can hear him, “ginseng mixture that you sold to me last week?”

You bite back a smirk as you nod towards the woven basket containing your various medicines, “I do. I made a new batch last night. Did you need some?”

A rapid nod is sent your way along with a handful  of coins, “Thanks. It worked wonders last time. My wife sends her gratitude.”

Your cheeks heat up immediately but given that you’ve heard worse things in the market place, you merely giggle and file your payment away.

Ginseng is a natural stimulant that you often recommend to men experiencing issues with sex or fertility. Whilst you completely stand by its effectiveness, you won’t deny that it’s slightly awkward working with the men you’ve helped. Especially since they often insist on loudly announcing how many times they had sex the night before.

The rest of the setup goes smoothly and by the time the sun fully takes its place in the sky, you are ready for the market to open.  

As your adjusting the sign on the front of your cart, you hear an interesting bout of conversation ignite in front of you

“Did you hear? The Royal Army is arriving today to refuel.”

“You’re lying. Are you serious? Do they- do you think they have him with them?”

“Of course! They aren’t stupid enough to travel without him. They’d be ambushed immediately.”

“Yah, what are you talking about?”

“The Tiger. He’s coming through town today.”

Instantly, your heart stalls in your chest.

You try your best to appear unbothered but, it doesn’t stop the panic from seeping into your bones.

The Tiger and the fleet of warriors he oversees are well-known in your village.  

Word of mouth is truly a powerful mechanism for spreading information and, stories of The Tiger had been circulating for quite sometime.

They started out simply depicting a powerful new recruit into the Royal Army.

Despite his initial inexperience, The Tiger quickly rose through the ranks due to his otherworldly fighting skills.  

According to the rumors, The Tiger was known for his silent destruction.  

By the time his enemies could grasp what was happening, The Tiger and his men had already completed their mission.  

They had already killed, maimed or destroyed whatever they were after.  

A recent success had led to The Tiger becoming the General of the largest fleet in the Royal Army.

From what you had gathered, he wasn’t much older than you so the fact that he essentially lead an entire army is quite impressive.

However, given the stories of his cruel and cold blooded nature, it makes a lot of sense.

“I heard he beheads the enemy general on the battlefield after he wins...”

“I heard he killed 3,000 men all on his own in the middle of a thunderstorm!”

“I heard he keeps a viper on him at all times and he sets it loose on anyone he disobeys him!”

“I heard that he never sleeps.”

“Do you think he’ll come here? Would he be seen out in public like that?”

“Why wouldn’t he? He has nothing to fear, there isn’t a single soul in this village who could take him on.”

“Plus, he never travels alone. He’ll have his men with him.”  

With a snort, you continue displaying your cart as normal and, only then do you realize that you stand out amongst the other merchants.

Every single one of them has an offering for the warriors.

It’s not customary to do so and, you’re only viable guess is that it has something to do with the market fawning over this tiger character.

“Were we supposed to put something out?” You murmur to the woman beside you, brows knitting in confusion.

She chuckles heartily, “When a normal fleet enters, no. We usually just offer them food and the resources we can spare.” A bit of excitement flashes through her eyes as she adjust the basket of radishes on her cart, “However, this is no ordinary fleet. I suggest you put something out too dear, that pretty face of yours could land you husband on the Tiger’s army, any one of his men would be a worthy mate. They aren’t shooting blanks like my husband over here!”

Her body jostles with laughter as she shoves her hand up against the man beside her, who looks whole-heartedly unamused.

“Jane, please...” He grumbles

You can’t help the grimace that comes across your face when Jane mentions finding a husband but, it’s quickly replaced with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.

“I have something for that.” You offer in a hushed tone and, the man seems to unfurl from his submissive position as he offers a meek smile.

“You do?”

You don’t have time to answer him before the mood of the market shifts into quiet chaos.

“I think they’re coming!” The fisherman whispers frantically, adjusting the sign on his cart for the millionth time.

As much you hate to give in to the hype, you feel compelled to go with the flow and, put something out for the warriors.  

You settle on a basket of your most popular anti-inflammatory ailment that’s proven to be quite effective amongst your customers.  

The long strips of white wood are haphazardly placed into a woven basket as you brace your ears for the piercing sound of trumpets.

Magnificent as the musicians in your village are, the blaring cacophony of noise is far from something you wish to be apart of this early in the morning.  

However, the noise never comes.  

The gates open up as normal as a reasonable size crowd begins meandering throughout the market.  

You turn towards Jane with confusion painting your features, “Where’s the music?”

Jane is adjusting her radishes once again, glancing eagerly towards the crowd of people, “The Tiger does not allow fanfare of any kind. A far away village defied his orders once and played for him and his fleet anyway and- well...” She smirks bemusedly, “it didn’t end well for them, so we respect his wishes.”

Your eyes widen at that as you nod, swallowing back any fear that threatens to crawl up your throat.  

“Got it.”

The usual slew of customers begin filing in and as business begins to pick up, you slowly forget about the famous warriors that were to enter.  

Roughly, an hour later, your basket of willow bark remains untouched and, you begin to consider putting it back in its normal place. This particular bark is quite annoying to obtain and you don’t feel great about giving it away to some warrior after you’ve spent hours trying to procure it.  

However, as you glance at other offering baskets, you notice that some of them have been emptied.  

This means of course that either your fellow merchants put their offerings away or, the warriors are already in the market.  

A strange and unsettling feeling washes over you at the thought of deadly warriors perusing throughout town. You expected that they would be recognizable, especially given their reputation but, nothing seems to give away their presence.  

As a paying customer leaves your cart with an armful of various items, you notice something that normally doesn’t garner your attention: hair.  

You see it amongst the crowd, peeking over the tops of heads.

It’s a shimmering icy platinum and it’s tied up atop a strangers head with a beaded string. It moves throughout the crowd slowly, stopping at various points, likely exchanging words with another merchant before you finally make out the face it belongs to.  

A man dressed in cotton linens maneuvers out of the crowd, dark eyes scanning his surroundings almost anxiously. As he moves closer to you, you’re able to fully take in his features.  

Pointed and smooth, his face is the epitome of contradiction.  

Deep brown eyes, rounded button-nose, pouty lips and strong eyebrows adorn his face whilst his rather large hand flexes instinctually towards the object hanging off of his hips.

It’s a sword.  

This man certainly isn’t a civilian.  

Unfortunately, you’re unable to ignore the beauty he possesses. He is quite ethereal once you get a closer look at him; you don’t think you’ve ever seen another person that looks quite like him.  

As he speaks with the fisherman, your ears perk up to in an attempt to hear the sound of his voice.  

Faintly, you can discern a bit of rasp and calculation in his tone but, you aren’t able to absorb it over the sound of the market.  

Its then you realize that you’ve been staring at this stranger for far too long and, if you’re ever going to meet your quota today, you need to avoid distractions.  

You sell another one of your blanket moments later, increasing your daily total by a reasonable amount. Making blankets is enjoyable yes but, it’s extremely time consuming so it feels good when someone rewards you for your hard work.  

“Please have some radishes! They’re grown in top soil from the northern region! It gives them a certain uh- “ Jane’s shrill voice pulls your attention towards her cart which now brandishes a new visitor: the stranger with the blonde hair.

You're realizing that Jane is pausing mid-sentence because, she is desperately looking to you for answers.

You've assisted Jane with her produce before as she was having trouble with the flavor of some of her vegetables. This was mainly due to the fact that she had been using the wrong kind of fertilizer but, you had also given her several tips to improve the overall taste of her produce.

“A certain crunch...” You finish for her, stabilizing your tone as you brave a glance towards the man. “The mixture of the soils helps with the texture.”

His feline gaze rushes towards you at the sound of your voice, as if he wasn’t expecting you to speak.  

At the sight of you, his lips part momentarily before quickly sealing in a tight lipped smile which directs toward Jane.

“Thank you.” He nods toward her as he takes one of the radishes and tucks it into the pocket of his linen pants.

“Of course! Um thank you- sir for your...services...” She stutters and it’s then you notice that she hasn’t made eye contact throughout the entirety of their conversation.  

A bit of discomfort flashes through his eyes but otherwise, he merely grunts in acknowledgement.  

Jane’s comment is the last bit of confirmation you need that this man is indeed a warrior.

However, his reaction to her words strikes you as odd. Warriors rarely shy away from gratitude. They are often proud and boastful regarding their positions but, he seems to be bothered by what she said.  

The man never looks back at Jane as he makes his way to the next cart. Every so often, you notice him looking over his shoulder or glancing towards the entrances/exits of the market. His presence doesn’t necessarily make you uneasy but, his behavior sure does.

He acts as though he is in danger.

It puts you on edge but, you direct your attention back to the customer in front of you.

“Good morning.” You smile, “Anything catch your eye?”

The man cards a hand through his salt and pepper hair as he leans over your cart, eagerly scanning the items you have on display.

“Eh do you have anything for dry skin? With winter around the corner, I gotta start thinking about this old skin of mine. The wind does a lot of damage on my knuckles.”

“You know what? I think I have just the thing...” You bend down to access the crate beneath your counter and grab a medium sized glass bottle, “This is an olive oil and honey treatment, it will treat dry skin immediately but, it’s meant to treat dry skin over a longer period of time too. I also-” You bend down once more to grab a tin of cocoa butter and place it on the counter top, “have this. This should help with daily wear and tear. You only need a little bit so this tin should last you through the winter.”

The man smiles eagerly and quickly reaches for his pockets before he freezes. You don’t notice until you look up from your counter but, the platinum haired warrior is back and, he’s standing right behind your customer.

“O-Oh go ahead, go ahead. I uh- I'll go next...” The man stutters, gesturing frantically to your cart.

With a quirked brow the warrior moves to step in front of him until you raise your hand.

“No sir, it’s ok. You’re in the middle of a transaction.” You insist, eyeing the warrior sternly,  “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

The immediate crowd surrounding your cart seems to pause, nervously glancing towards the warrior who merely nods and steps back into place.  

The shock is apparent on the faces of the crowd but you ignore it and send a reassuring smile towards your customer, “Ok, that will be 11.50 and-” You slide a bundle of rosemary towards him, “take this too, on the house. Brew it in some hot water to aid digestion, winter food tends to be a bit harsher on the system.”

The man swallows nervously, dragging his items toward his chest, “Thank you—uh so much. Thank you.” He turns towards the warrior, directing his gaze towards his feet as he bows his head, “Thank you for your service...”

The man doesn’t allow the warrior time to respond before he rushes off back into the crowd but, you get the feeling that it wouldn’t matter regardless.  

The warrior doesn’t seem interested in anyone’s gratitude.  

“Let me know if you have any questions.” You nod your head towards him, pushing the basket with your offering towards the edge of the counter before busying yourself with putting a few things back in their place.

He says nothing but, he approaches the counter whilst his eyes shrewdly observe the ins and outs of your set up.

He’s even more striking up close. His smooth, tan skin is mostly unmarked except for the giant scar running down the center of his right eye. It goes up the center of his eyelid and disappears right above the center of his brow. It’s still red and angrily risen against his otherwise angelic looking face.  

A warrior indeed.

The bit of people around your cart haven’t stopped their staring but, they are at least making an attempt to look like they aren’t paying attention. It doesn’t stop you from wishing that you didn’t have an audience.  

“Tree bark?” He questions with an arch to his brow

You look towards the basket he’s gesturing to before returning your gaze back to his.

“White willow bark.” You correct, almost defensively and it cause his lips to twitch.

“Is this some kind of decoration?”

You shake your head, placing your fingers on the edge of the basket, “No. It’s meant to be chewed. It reduces inflammation. I figured it would be useful since I imagine you deal with muscle soreness quite often.”

He smirks, “Amongst other things yes,” With long elegant fingers, he points to the basket, “So- if I chew on this, I should feel relief from any pain I might be experiencing?”

An all too rapid nod comes from you as you continue your explanation, “Well it’s mainly used to treat pain in your muscles and joints. If you’re looking to treat other types of pain, I have other options...”

He shakes his head, his hair swishing to the side as he does, “This should do, thank you.”  

You suspect that he’s done, given that the bark is (annoyingly) free and he’s only seemed to be interested in the offerings thus far so, he surprises you when he asks yet another question.

“Do you have any more of that salve?”

“Of course,” You offer him a smile now that the initial tension is starting to lift, “Did you want a big tin or small tin?”

He purses his lips in thought, looking towards his hands, “What do you recommend?”

Without a second thought, you step towards him and take one of his hands, bringing it closer to your face for inspection.  

The man seems to freeze in place, eyes widening in absolute shock, his own limb betraying him as it goes limp.

His hand displays evidence of the life he lives.  

Rough, calloused and blistered...

His nails are bitten down to a point that almost looks painful but, the thing that stands out the most is how beautiful his hand is to you.  

The strength in his skin is palpable and the indigo veins protruding against his hand are a firm reminder of what he is likely capable of.  

What you don’t notice however, is the utter panic that flushes across his face or the way his eyes dart nervously between you and his hand.

Just as you would during any consultation, you briefly run your fingers over the palm of his hand and up the length of each of his fingers

“Hmm I would recommend the big tin, I think...you have a lot of rough spots but the skin between your callouses is quite smooth so,”  You carefully set his hand back onto the counter and return your eyes back to his, “what that tells me is that your skin is roughened by your environment rather than by an actual lack of moisture.” You slide the big tin towards him, “Apply this to the dryer areas as needed throughout the day but, every night before you go to bed, make sure to put this on. Sleeping with it will allow it to seep into your skin and heal the dryness over time.”  

The warrior’s eyes are transfixed on you and for a moment he is completely speechless, his hand lingering on the counter before hurriedly places them back at his side.  

He can’t understand you and why you just touched him.  

But what’s worse, is he can’t understand why his mouth is suddenly dry.

Or why his skin is on fire...

Or why his heart is thrashing around in his chest.

He clears his throat and nods, “Very good. I’ll be sure to follow your instructions.” He sticks the hand you didn’t touch into his pocket, fishing around for something, “What’s my total?”

“That will be 3.50.” You say with a smile, holding out your hand.

He dispenses his payment into your palm before stowing his items away in his free pocket.

“Thank you.” He grunts, the hand you touched still kind of awkwardly lingering away from his body.

Was he going to wash it as soon as he got the chance?

Did you smell weird?

“Of course, have a nice day. Safe travels.” With a wave, you send him off, missing the small smile that momentarily appears on his face.

You’re genuinely relieved that the encounter is over but, you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t intrigue you.

Before you’re able to get your bearings and move on, Jane is rushing over to you frantically.

“What on Earth was that??? Do you know him??? Why didn’t you tell me you knew him?!” She swats your arm, her eyes wide with incredulity.

“Ow!” You grip your arm, “What are you talking about?”

The man has already disappeared back into the crowd but, you’re still attempting to keep your voice at a reasonable level.

Jane does not follow suit.

“You just put your hands on the Tiger!” Jane shrieks causing you to recoil in response, “He could kill you for that! What were you thinking?”

“He’s going to kill me because I touched his hand?” Your brow arches in amusement, as your lips threaten to smile, “I had no idea who he was Jane, I was just helping a paying customer.”

She doesn’t like your answer and quickly swats your arm again, “Y/N this is not a joke! He’s a dangerous man. I nearly fainted when you looked him in his eyes but, then you touched him and-”

“Jane, that’s enough.” The fisherman hisses, gesturing wildly to the crowd of people, “You’re making a scene and he’s still out here somewhere.”

She huffs her hands rushing to smooth out the apron over her dress before rushing a finger into your face, “You won’t be laughing if he shows up at your house with a sword in your face. You need to be careful.”

You smirk at this but otherwise comply, not wishing to fire her up any further, “Thank you for your concern Jane, I’ll make sure to carry my sword around too, you know, just in case.”  

Jane snorts then and rolls her eyes, scurrying back to her cart and mumbling something along the lines of:

“That mouth is going to get you killed...”

You can’t help but giggle.

There’s no doubt that the man you just spoke to was a warrior and, maybe he was some almighty warrior but he other than an intense staring problem, he didn’t scare you at all.

Thankfully, business is booming for the remainder of the day and although you’re thrilled at the money you’ll be taking home, you aren’t looking forward to all the replenishing you have to do.  

The last order of business before heading home is picking a few things for your parents and grabbing the last of the steamed buns for your best friend.

Rachel has lived beside you ever since you can remember. The two of you spent most of your childhood running around the village, causing mini bouts of chaos everywhere you went. Despite the challenges life had brought the both of you, you grew together rather than apart.  

Rachel is the village’s most treasured teacher and she’s been running the school for the past few years. She’s kind of the best and, you have a feeling she’ll be interested to hear about the rather interesting events that had transpired over the course of your day.  

As you turn down the dirt path towards her home, you start to wonder where the Tiger and his fleet would be staying.  

Your village wasn’t run-down but it wasn’t exactly luxurious by any standards.

The rubble near the beginning of the street along with the various empty wooden barrels doesn’t exactly count as décor and, the occasional drunken argument outside the village’s tavern certainly doesn’t add any class to the area but, its home.  

Rachel's house is easy to spot amongst the rest of the street as it’s the only one completely covered in plants.

She’s had a love of greenery for quite sometime and, it’s amongst the many things you two bond over.  

Adjusting the bag on your shoulder, you immediately reach for the handle and use all your weight to shove the front door open.  

Rachel is sitting on her sofa and despite the fact that she was expecting you, she still jumps at the sound.

“Oh my goodness!” She exclaims “Have you ever heard of knocking???”

You giggle but otherwise ignore her and lean against the door dramatically, “Rachel, you better get one last look at me because, this might be the last time you ever see me.”

She laughs lightly and folds her arms, “What did you do this time? Did you call the apothecary a fraud again?” Wiggling her fingers, she reaches out for the snacks your holding.

“Ok first of all, he is a fraud but no....it’s much much worse.” You shove the snacks into her awaiting hands before flopping down on the armchair, “I touched a man’s hand...”

She freezes, the bun lingering near her mouth, “Alright, now I am officially curious, why is hand touching worse?”

You smirk, “I touched...the Tiger’s hand” You point a finger at her quickly as her lips part, “Before you even make the joke, no it wasn’t a real tiger...it was THE tiger.”

Rachel snorts with laughter before going wide-eyed in shock, “You...wha--the Tiger? THE Tiger??? You TOUCHED the Tiger?!!?!? What were you thinking?!? Oh my god, did he bite? Wait, focus, Rachel---Why did you touch the Tiger?!?”  

Whilst she’s rambling on you burst out in a fit of giggles, snuggling back against the chair, “He came to my cart looking for a good salve for his hands. All I did was do an assessment as I normally do to see what he needed. I don’t understand why everyone is freaking out...he seemed pretty harmless to me.”

She leans forward on the couch, “Harmless? He seemed...harmless?!?” She whispers frantically, “He has personally slain hundreds of men with those very hands!!!  

“Why are we whispering?...”

Rachel returns to normal volume, rolling her eyes “Fine. More like thousands if you count how many his army has obliterated. And you just pawed at him--are you insane? He has killed people for less! At least that’s what the rumors say.”  

You keep giggling, completely unfazed as you make yourself at home, “The rumors also say that he killed an entire village because they played their trumpets for him. I don’t know how credible these rumors are.”

“Well....what was he like then? You cannot drop this information on me and not give me every detail.” She insists, gesturing wildly at you before leaning back and sipping from her mug.

“Uh he was fine. I mean- he was normal I guess, I don’t know. He has really long hair, its blonde- like really blonde. He looks young, way younger than I thought he’d be. He has a big scar over his eye. Jane was practically drooling over him...”

Realization crosses Rachel’s face as she watches you intently. She relaxes back into her chair as a knowing smile spreads across her face, “Ohhhh young, blonde, mysterious...Jane must really HAVE been drooling. Seems like she’s not the only one, though...”

“I mean- the fisherman guys were pretty excited too I guess. I don’t know what the big deal is honestly, I know he’s supposed to be good on the battlefield but they were treating him like he was some kind of king or something.” You narrow your eyes “Are you suggesting I was drooling over him? Because I definitely wasn’t...I even told him to wait his turn in line.” You insist, shifting around on the chair.

Rachel crosses her legs dramatically, steeping her fingers as she observes you, “Was that before or after you found out he was handsome? Hmm?” She smirks again, holding her hands up innocently, “I am implying nothing, I am just NOTICING that you are definitely affected by him. I haven’t seen you impressed by....well, anyone.”

She’s not wrong.

“Hey hey whoa...who said anything about impressed?? I’m not impressed. I’m not impressed at all.”

Rachel eyes you suspiciously”...right...not impressed at all. Well, did you at least hear anything about them? Any word on how long the army will be here? We’ve got to be the safest village in the country as long as they are in town.” Suddenly, she facepalms in realization, “My students will be so distracted as long as they are here.”

“Not impressed. He’s just a man with a scar and sword...” You insist, twiddling your thumbs “I guess they are just refueling, I’m not sure how long they will be here. Jane told me I need to watch my back so, hopefully not for long...” You giggle again, thinking of how excited the schoolchildren will be now that the legendary Tiger is in town, “maybe you can make an assignment out of it...”

She stares off into space for a moment and mutters, “that’s not a bad idea...we could get outside, maybe a soldier could come speak to them? There’s got to be at least one that’s not terrifying?...” Rachel shakes her head, unimpressed with your lack of understanding, “Just a man with a scar and sword—he is the most feared military leader of our generation! And I wouldn’t worry TOO much about watching your back. After all—none of the legends involve the Tiger killing civilians, do they? At the very least his presence here means good business for the village. If you can get the Tiger as a repeat customer I can only imagine the profits you’ll turn at that little stall!” She muses, laugh heartily, “Buy the salve that soothed a beast! I can hear the gossip already...”

You point a finger at her, “I like the way you think. If you ever want to stop educating and enriching the minds of our youth and be my business partner, let me know...” Suddenly the humor within you dissipates as the reality of your situation seems to sink in, “You don’t think I should be worried though right?”

Rachel lets out a short laugh, “Thanks for the offer...” She shakes her head, “As far as this Tiger business is concerned...I don’t think your safety is under any threat. How did he react when you touched him? Did he seem angry?”

“He just froze...” You recall, your eyes unfocusing slightly, “It was kind of weird honestly. I’ve never had anyone do that before. It’s pretty normal to get checked out during an apothecary visit. I guess I wasn’t supposed to look at him either but, how the hell am I supposed to do an exam if I can’t look at his face?”

“Hmmm...that is strange. I’ll be honest, I thought he would have scolded you or pulled away based on the stories. Unless...” Rachel slumps back against her sofa, her face relaxing into a smirk, “...he was just as surprised by you as you were of him.”

You wrinkle your nose, “Ew no. Definitely not.”  

Rachel doesn’t look convinced but you continue nevertheless, suddenly wishing to change the subject.

“He looked nervous I guess- I don’t know. His hand just sort of hung there after I finished. Today was weird...anywayyy-” You nod to the dough between your palms, “How are the buns? Did anything interesting happen in the education world.”

“Oh three boys got in a worm eating contest and threw up on their practice parchment so I could go without that kind of interesting for awhile. The buns are transcendent as usual but you-” She narrows her eyes in your direction, “- are dodging. Why would a general be nervous around you hmm? You said he is young...is he also handsome?”

“Ah god I love kids...” You note with a giggle before shrugging, shrinking back into the chair, “I don’t know. Objectively he- he definitely wasn’t ugly.”

Rachel raises an eyebrow, “I sense there is more to it than that.”

“Fine. He was easily the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life. There! Are you happy now?” You grumble before dramatically staring off into the distance, “Oh to be murdered by the most handsome man alive...how romantic.”

This prompts a twinkling bout of laughter from Rachel who has finally finished the first of her many snacks, “I can think of worse ends my friend. Perhaps that was your only interaction? I am sure he is busy making preparations; too busy to be executing smart-mouthed apothecaries. I wouldn’t fret too much Y/N.”

With you sigh, you accept her analysis, sending a nod her way, “You’re probably right and, that’s probably for the best.” Despite the conviction in your tone, you can feel the disappointment on your face, “Thank you for calling my mouth smart.” You smirk before nodding toward the door, “I should probably head home. My father has a nasty cough and I seriously doubt he’s taken the medicine I left for him.”

Meeting you at the door, Rachel pulls you in for a big hug, “The smartest mouth in town- that's why I keep you around. Give your father my love and tell him, if he gives you a hard time—I will find out!”

You laugh, hugging her tightly, “The second smartest mouth in town...” You insist, “let’s do the tavern this weekend please. The children have been taking all your time and I miss my best friend!”

“Of course! No pack of tiny ruffians can get between me and a night out.”

You pat her shoulder gently before stepping out of the doorframe, “That’s right.” You smile, thankful to have someone like her in your life, “love you, have a good night.”

“Good night, sleep tight...” She sings, slowly closing the door, “don’t let the Tiger bite!” She laughs wildly before slamming the door shut to prevent your retaliation.

She’s a menace.

The walk back home is pleasant, the fall breeze nips at your skin through your sweater but, it feels refreshing against your flushed cheeks.  

Your parents are asleep by the time you return home.  

It’s common for you to arrive well past their bedtime but, despite your lack of contact, they still manage to make you feel loved.

On the kitchen table sits bowl of stew and freshly baked bread, along with a new blanket for the winter.  

Your mom makes a fresh one everywhere with thicker fabric to combat the icy freeze of the winter climate. The stew will be cold but, your heart will be warm and your stomach will be full.  

In truth, these are the only things that matter to you.  

Living simple certainly has it’s drawbacks but overall, you are comforted by it. Your parents raised you to be thankful for the things you have and to only set your sights on obtaining things that truly matter to you. It doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have goals but, your parents have always stressed that external success can be fickle and, material possessions only take you so far.  

Being content is truly priceless and, you’re thankful they instilled these values into you.

Climbing into bed, you allow your mind to wander to the man you met today.  

You couldn’t quite understand the legend behind him. Not to say that he wasn’t worthy of such folklore but, it’s more so that you didn’t exactly understand the warnings behind it.  

He didn’t seem scary.

Although, it’s possible his demeanor is something he uses along with his beauty.

It could be that the Tiger lives up his animal comparison.

Beautiful and deadly.

Village gossip shouldn’t keep you awake longer than necessary, you think, it’s time to rest up so that tomorrow’s work day doesn’t feel like a never-ending task.  

With the sound of the whistling wind just outside your home, you slowly close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

Your plan for a peaceful nights rest is completely demolished when you feel the frantic hands of your mother shaking you awake.

“Y/N! Wake up! Wake up! Raiders- they are raiders outside, hurry!” She drags the covers off of you, “We have to go!”

In a haphazard blur, you spring to your feet and arm yourself with a few important possessions and your sword.  

Your parents tow behind you as you make your way out of your home.  

The village is in utter chaos; shouting, clanking metal, screaming, amber flames peaking out from above the rooftops.  

You grab your mothers arm, keeping her close to you as you try your best to follow procedures.

Like most smaller villages, your area is equipped with a protocol that will ensure the least amount of damage if there were to be an invasion.

Collect the essentials and gather your loved ones

Arm yourself

Make your way to the town square; there is strength in numbers.

Allow the raiders to take what they want (with the exception of human lives)

Negotiate

Simple in theory but, rarely in practice.

It’s difficult to keep up with a protocol during times of intense stress.

Amidst the chaos, you see Rachel scrambling out of her house, with a bag slung over her shoulder.

You cry out for her, desperately hoping she will hear your voice over the madness,

“Rachel! Over here!”

With wide eyes, she reaches out for your mother’s hand, bowing her head to shield from any possible debris.  

“The army is here, they will protect us.” Your father murmurs solemnly beside you, his face stoic and rid of any bit of positivity

This could end very badly.  

The four of you rush into the town square, trying your best to remain calm throughout the screaming, back up against a wall. Your grip tightens on your mothers hand as you spot the tents of the armed guests currently residing in your village.

The raiders continue their plundering throughout the town accompanied by the sounds of glass breaking and shouting.  

Suddenly, there is a different sound: the clanking of swords. Briefly, you can see glimpses of armor peeking out of homes, the sight causing your eyes to widen.

“Look!”

Rachel and your parents crane their necks to see what you’re pointing out as the sounds coming from within your village begin to change.

Grunting, groaning, more clanking swords and a bit of shouting shoot out of the main street like fireworks.

“Clear the path!” An unfamiliar voice shouts and it’s then you can see what’s going on.

The raiders have been captured thanks to the ominous group of tourists that arrived yesterday.

Oddly enough, you don’t even remember seeing them leave their tents and it makes you wonder how the hell they managed to move so quickly undetected.  

There are several men, dressed in black and gold armor, dragging the raiders by their shirts to the center of town square. One of them is a tall, doe eyed looking man with shaggy brown hair and biceps that could likely snap a neck if they so desired. He has his sword to the back of one of the raiders who scuffles along on his knees to meet with the rest of his captured teammates.  

As the rest of the soldiers file in, another leader of the troop, tall and equally broad, gestures to Bambi with the biceps.

“Jungkook-ah! Bring the leader to the center; let our general deal with him.”

Jungkook does just that, quickly the toe of his boot into the back of the raider and jerking his head to the center of the plaza, “You heard him- move.” He grunts and the raider reluctantly shuffles forward.

Your fellow villagers are reasonably alarmed but, they all seem to freeze in place as they watch the show unravel before them.

This is already more excitement than your village has had in ages and, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t eating it up.

The man who has now been identified as Jungkook, steps away from the raider, still pointing his sword at him, a smug smirk on his face, “You know for a master thief, you were far too easy to catch. Lucky for me, I made a bet with my brothers here that I would catch you in 10 minutes,” Jungkook walks back towards the man, entangling his fingers in the roots of his hair before tugging backwards, “, and according to the clock tower, it only took me 8.”  

Beside you, Rachel seems to swallow back her surprise before subconsciously starting to fan her face,  

“Goodness, he really is something huh?”

Despite the tense nature of the situation, her demeanor makes you giggle,  

“Stop drooling over the calvary...”

She smacks you playfully which causes your father to shush both of you, a moment which reminds you of your schoolyard days.

A bit of immaturity is actually refreshing after the events of this morning.

“Jungkook-ssi,” A voice bellows throughout the plaza, sending a chill down your spine, “What have I told you about placing bets on our captors huh?”

As the voice grows louder, you see him: the Tiger, stepping out from the main street, his long platinum hair flowing freely in the wind. His hand brandishes a sword, one that most certainly possesses the ability to inflict some serious harm.  

Sheepishly, Jungkook smirks, releasing the man’s hair roughly and stepping back to his original spot, his sword posing to strike.

“Sorry hyung, this one was just too easy. I saw him skirting the perimeter last night, I know it would be a sure win once I saw his technique.”

So that’s how the army was able to move so quickly; they already anticipated this attack.

The Tiger chuckles darkly, his eyes alight with pure delight, “Aish- what am I going to do with you people hm?”  

He moves like his name; slow, deliberate, deadly- you know that you’re about to witness an execution and you aren’t sure if you can stomach the sight, even if these raiders deserve it.

Its your turn to swallow back your reaction to him which doesn’t go unnoticed by your best friend standing beside you.

“Now look who’s drooling...” She teases, giggling as you playfully shove your elbow into her side.

The crowd is dangerously still, hanging on each syllable the Tiger speaks whilst his men, six other soldiers roughly his size, watch intently.

The rest of the raider clan are being held captive by the remainder of the fleet, bowing their heads in shame and fear but, the leader seems unaffected by their defeat.

“You lot aren’t men.” The man spits, his accent thick,  “you’re narcissistic little boys who like to play dress up. You’re cowards, hiding behind your swords, killing everything that stands in your way. You have no idea how the other half live. You have no honor.”

There are gasps throughout the crowd then as your village grows shocked at the way he’s spoken to the Tiger.

If you had any hope that this wouldn’t end violently, it’s been squashed by the time the leader finishes his sentence.

The Tiger however, merely chuckles again, a light smirk on his carnation lips,

“It’s odd that a man who earns his keep by stealing from others would have the authority to lecture my men and I about honor.” He kisses his teeth and slowly raises his sword to brush against the man’s cheek, “Look at all these poor people hm? You've terrified them. Your lack of intelligence isn’t their burden to bear now is it? But you have made it their problem; ripped them from their homes, terrorized their children, their livelihoods and, all because you’re too incompetent to learn your own trade.”

The Tiger’s words infuriate him and the next thing you know, he’s lunging off the ground towards the Tiger, a snarl arising on his mouth.

It prompts your hands to fly to your face and your feet to nearly trip over themselves as you brace for the inevitable fight.

But it doesn’t come.  

With one swoop of his arm, the Tiger has the leader knocked to the floor and underneath his leather boot. Jungkook has reacted quickly as well, his arm raising in the air to slice his sword through the man’s body. With one twitch of his hand however, the Tiger stops Jungkook from following through,

“See? You can’t do things like that my friend. Because if you do, my big friend here with the sword will slice your greasy head in two.” The Tiger smirks again, before turning his head over his shoulder, “You folks wouldn’t want to spend the day cleaning blood of your beautiful plaza now would you?”

Overexcited villagers quickly shout various commentary at him,

“Kill him!”

“Cut his head off!”

“Make him pay!”

The Tiger chuckles once more, raising his brows as the man struggles beneath his boot, “Well, I guess you’re lucky they aren’t in charge of your punishment...” He looks up towards the remainder of his fleet, nodding his head at the other prisoners, “Namjoon, Jin: ensure that none of these men are here against their will. If the rest of you are here by choice, I suggest you make yourselves disappear into the forest before I allow these fine people to get ahold of you.”

Immediately, the Tiger’s fleet begin following his orders and take the men away towards their tents. As they walk out of the plaza, only Jungkook, the Tiger and the clan leader remain.  

You notice Jungkook scan the crowd then, peering out at the eager faces watching the show he is willingly apart of. Very briefly but noticeably, his eyes land on your best friend and as they do, they seem to linger.

He looks curious, almost boyish in a way as his ways seem to memorize her face but before Rachel even realizes what’s going on, his eyes quickly return to the raider.  

“If you’re going to kill me, just do it. Don’t be a coward, I can’t listen to you ramble any longer.” The man growls which prompts the Tiger to push his foot down a little harder upon his back.

“I’m not your executioner, thief. Your fate resides with the Queens.” He explains, matter of factly before jerking his head towards Jungkook, “Put him in the portable cell. I’ll send a notice to the council that we have a criminal that needs to be dealt with.”

Jungkook nods, eagerly crossing the bit of plaza and kneeling down to restrain the man with handcuffs.

He grips the chain linking them and heaves him upwards so he’s standing between the two men.  

“I’ll hose him off first,” Jungkook wrinkles his nose in disgust, “I don’t want him stinking up our camp.”

“Fuck you-” The man spits, jerking his wrists in Jungkook’s grip which then causes the Tiger to raise his sword once again.

“Behave yourself, thief.” He commands, his eyes darkening for the first time, “I’m assuming if you’ve heard stories of my fleet, you are privy to the fact that we don’t miss our target. Please don’t give me a reason to live up to my name.”

With that, the two men drag off the clan leader towards the rest of their fleet, not bothering to look back at the dozens of people they just saved.

They ignore the applause, the gratitude, the pleas for them to return and feast.

You have to admit that you’re shocked.  

The supposedly wicked and ruthless Tiger sure seems to have quite a bit of restraint and diplomacy.

“Did he- did he really just let him go? Unharmed?”

Rachel asks a very good question and it seems to be the one on your parents minds as well.

“It’s extremely odd. I was fully prepared to witness an execution, he would have been within his right.” Your father notes, his eyes still trained on the center of the plaza.

Generals have a certain level of freedom with the prisoners they choose to capture; they are expected to have good judgement and carry out punishments if necessary.

In essence, the Tiger had every bit of authority to end that mans life and, given that he an eager crowd behind him, it genuinely perplexes you.

“Organized raids come with an automatic life sentence, the leaders are usually executed within a few days of their trial.” Your mother notes and it’s then that Rachel notices your silence.

“Well I think it’s safe to say that you didn’t make it on his hit list. You can’t be worse than a lead raider...” She grins, knowing full well that your confusion also comes with an annoying amount of curiosity.  

She also knows that you plan on finding a way to speak with him again.  

And she is absolutely right.

--------------------------

“Should I say hi to Jungkook for you? Ask if he’s betrothed?” You tease and Rachel promptly throws balled up dress your way.

You went to her house after the excitement in the town square to bake a batch of fresh bread for the Tiger’s fleet.

Bread is increasingly hard to come by these days due to a crop shortage in the northern region so despite what people may think, most military diets consist of salted meat and corn.  

Doughy, fluffy, cheesy, rosemary bread is a luxury.

“I have a feeling you’ll be preoccupied with your mission to court the Tiger.” She retorts but a deep frown comes over her then, as she wraps the last loaf in parchment paper, “Are you sure you should be doing this? Waltzing over to a tent full of dangerous soldiers doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

“I want to thank them.” You insist, loading your basket with the rest of the loaves, glancing up at your worried friend, “All the village ever talks about is how ruthless they are, how cruel they are known to be but, the reality is: they saved us. It must be frustrating to refuel just as any other fleet would and have people gossip about you or fear you unnecessarily. I’m not planning on staying for tea or anything, I just want to show my appreciation.”

Rachel raises her brows, “That’s all hm?”

You nod, “Yep.” Your lips pop with the sound of the p and Rachel remains unconvinced.

“This has nothing to do with the Tiger?”

“Of course not.” Your answer tumbles past your lips far too quickly and, it causes your friend to grin knowingly at you.

“I know that look-”

“Ugh what look?”

“The look. That one-” She points at you, “You’re about to do something you know you shouldn’t.”

Her smile is far too contagious and her knowledge of you surpasses anyone you’ve ever known in your life.  

She has your number and there really is no point in lying to her.

“Fine, ok maybe it has a little something to do with the Tiger-” You smirk, trying to stifle the giggle that threatens your disposition, “Don’t laugh at me!”

Rachel’s twinkling laughter fills the room as she rounds the counter. Placing her hands on your shoulders, she smiles fondly at you, “Just be careful ok? I know he intrigues you and honestly I’m not at all surprised but, don’t let your curiosity get in the way of your safety. That’s the most important thing.”  

“I won’t.” You promise, smiling back at her, placing your hands on hers, “I promise, I’ll be careful.”

Rachel helps you out once again, insuring you have everything you need before her soft voice is answering a question you asked moments earlier.

“And uh about that Jungkook boy-”

You smirk, “He’s definitely not a boy, did you see his muscles? He looks like he could bench press a mountain lion.”

She grows flustered, “No, I didn’t see any muscles, I have no idea what you’re talking about-”

“Oh so you also didn’t notice him staring at you in the plaza today right?”

Rachel’s eyes widen, “Wait he was?” She clears her throat, amending her eagerness as you giggle, “He definitely wasn’t staring at me don’t be ridiculous. What I was going to say-”

“What you were going to say is that ‘no Y/N, I don’t want you to check on Jungkook’s marital status directly but, should you happen to come across his left hand, let me know whether or not you see a shiny band around his finger, not that I would care or anything. Because, I totally don’t have the hots for him.’ “

Her mouth opens and then closes like a fish before she playfully nudges you through her doorway, “Shut up.”

With a laugh and a few parting words, you are off to visit the tent of your village's heroes.  

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous.

But you’d also be lying if you said you were nervous for the right reasons.

The concept of walking into the basecamp of a supposedly elite and ruthless fleet is one thing but, talking to someone you find attractive?  

Absolutely terrifying.

Your presence is immediately noted by the men inside the camp.

Two of them are seated at a table outside of one of the tents, hands and teeth full of meat, their motions freezing in place as they see you.

As you pass by one of their horses, you notice of them is speaking with a group of raiders.  

The conversation seems amicable, suggesting that many of the raider clan was indeed in your village against their will.

You approach the main but, before you are able to make ring the bell on the outside, you are crashing chest first into a very firm and very broad chest.

“Holy-” The voice sounds familiar and as you look up, you are meet with the bambi with biceps himself: Jungkook.

“Hello I-” You attempt to begin but his panicked voice interrupts you.

“Yah hyung??? Uh there’s a-” He swallows thickly stepping away from you, “There’s a girl here!”

The word seems foreign on his tongue and his behavior genuinely surprises you.

Where was the cocky warrior from this morning, brandishing a sword and placing bets on his captors?

“Jungkook, for the last time- we don’t use that word. We say young lady or woman...” Another voice, one you don’t recognize fades into your scope of hearing before pushing open the fabric of the tent. He is arguably just as beautiful as the other men, tall, dark haired, buff- as if he would be anything else.

“Oh, hello. Are you...” The man narrows his brows as he looks towards the group of raiders speaking with one of his counterparts, “Are you with the group or?”

You shake your head, your basket swinging when you turn back towards the village, “Oh no, no I’m from the village. My name is Y/N Y/L/N...” You bow your head slightly, “I came here to bring you this,” You gesture to the basket, “It’s fresh bread. I wanted to thank you for saving my people today.”

You feel the need to rush out your explanation as the rest of the fleet continues to stare at you. In fact, the way they are looking at you is rather unnerving.

It isn’t disrespectful just intrusive; they are looking at you as if you’ve sprouted a second head.

“You-” The man before you cocks his head, looking befuddled, “You came here to- thank us?”

“Well yes, I know bread is hard to come by and I figured you could use a pick-me-up after your fight this morning.”

He smiles now but his incredulity doesn’t change as he takes the basket from your hands, “It’s warm.” He notes, “Did you bake this recently?”

“Yes I baked it today, just now actually uh-” You decide to speak candidly now since the possible threat margin seems to be closing, “You look confused.”

Jungkook is practically hiding behind the man you’re addressing and it takes a large part of you not to laugh at his behavior.

“Forgive me.” He chuckles, “We aren’t exactly used to hospitality. Most villagers avoid us like the plague, it probably has to do with our General but regardless.” He bows his head, “We appreciate the gesture. I’ll make sure to pass along your gratitude to him once he returns.”  

“Oh is he not here? I was hoping to thank him myself.” You try and mask the disappointment in your tone, not wishing to come across as stranger than you already did.

The man shakes his head, “No. He often takes a walk after an invasion; gotta make sure the perimeter is secure.” He smiles and you are taken aback by how white his teeth were, “My name is Seokjin, I’m the outreach expert on the fleet and unofficial chef. I promise your bread will be put to good use, it’s been months since we’ve had any decent carbs.”  

His comment makes you smile and you are delighted that his demeanor is so welcoming.

“I’m sorry to heart that. Will you be in town long? I can try to set you up with a few more baskets before your departure?”

Seokjin chuckles warmly before snorting as Jungkook paws at the basket, “Easy.” He admonishes but its too late, Jungkook already has half a loaf down in his mouth, his chest rumbling with the sound of his groan.  

“Oh my god hyung, it’s so good...”

Seokjin looks disgusted with him but hands him the basket anyway, nodding to the rest of the fleet, “Share. Make sure you save a loaf for Yoongi and I.”

Jungkook happily obliges but not before turning towards you and bowing, “Uh thanks for the- for the bread....”

His sentence is choppy and over before it even begins as he goes bounding off in the direction of his team.

“Pardon him, he’s been in the army since he was fourteen. We haven’t done an amazing job at socializing him but, he’s getting better. He’s still a bit antsy around women though.” Seokjin chuckles, fondness in his eyes, “Ah but to answer your question, yes. We've decided to set up here for a few weeks to train our new recruits. I would love to more of this bread if it’s not too much trouble.”

You smile, waving him off, attempting to conceal your happiness at the news he’s just delivered, “Nonsense, I’d be happy to bake some more.”

“Excellent!” He chirps, clasping his hands together, “I’m sure Yoongi would be happy to know we’ve finally manage to contact with a villager. It’s been an issue for us, stories spread like wildfire you know? And just like wildfire, they tend to do more harm than good.”

“And Yoongi is?”

Seokjin chuckles, “Ah I believe you’d know him better as...” He flutters his fingers dramatically, “ the Tiger.”

Yoongi.

So that was his name.

“Oh yes,” You amend, “I’ve certainly heard of him but, I prefer to make my own judgements rather than succumb to the gossip.”

He smirks, “That’s very noble of you Y/N. I for one,” He places a hand on his chest, throwing a wink your way, “, live for the gossip.”

Your meeting with Seokjin ends soon after that with a promise that you would return with more bread.  

As much as you wanted to rush back to Rachel’s house to inform of your meeting with the ‘most dangerous fleet in the world’, you remind yourself that school is in session; a necessary but annoying inconvenience.

However, there are plenty of ways you plan on keeping busy for the remainder of the day and one of them involves visiting the river to collect more herbs for your remedies.  

You obviously weren't able to sell your wares today as the marketplace was still littered with evidence of the robbery.  Your parents had insisted you take the day off to restock and recuperate whilst they helped the village leaders clean up.

Reluctantly, you agreed and you are now very grateful that you had.

The river has always been one of your favorite places. It was rich, green, buzzing with life and, always a few degrees colder than your village. Surrounded by mossy trees that seem to stretch as high as the clouds, the river is encased with life. Rabbits, squirrels, tortoises, frogs and a plethora of birds all coral in the area the river resides in whilst bears, big cats, wolves and monkeys hide behind the dense forest. It’s any apothecary’s paradise as it is also the residence of any herbs capable of growing in damp areas.  

Angelica, Blue Vervain, Marshmallow, Stinging Needle and more: the river is your one stop shop for so many of your essential ingredients.

Today you’re after a particular herb though and armed with another woven basket, you make your way towards the large bushels of it growing at the base of a tree trunk.

Valerian is an essential herb in your arsenal and due to its popularity, it’s something you’re consistently having to restock.  

Gathering it carefully, ensuring you don’t disturb the root of the plant.

You are so enthralled with your current task that you don’t even notice that you are no longer alone.

“Is this where the tree bark grows?”

You jump nearly six feet out of your skin, whipping your head around to face your intruder.

Standing before you is the myth himself, the Tiger or as you’ve recently learned: Yoongi.

He’s still in his armor from earlier, his long tendrils pulled back away from his face into a low ponytail. Between his lips, which are curving slightly, is a piece of the bark he had taken from your cart the day prior.

He is chewing it as you instructed.

“You of all people should know not to ambush someone like that...” You breath, placing a hand on your chest, “I could have wacked you with this basket or something.”

He just smirks, “I’ve had worse.” He notes, taking the bark from between his teeth, “I’m sorry I frightened you though, I didn’t expect to see anyone here.”

“Likewise.” You retort, nodding your head at the bark, “Is it helping?”

He shrugs, “Too early to tell I suppose but, it’s tending to my oral fixation so, either way it has a purpose.”

You straighten up a bit more and smooth out your dress, “It will work, it just takes a bit of time.” You assure him before adjusting the herbs in your basket, “I came by your tent earlier to offer my thanks for what you and your men did today, your outreach coordinator Seokjin told me he’d pass along the message but-”

“You did what?”

His tone doesn’t entirely lean one way or the other and you quickly grow worried that you offended him.

“I brought a basket of bread to uh-” You swallow thickly, meeting the intensity of his gaze, “to your camp as a thank you for saving my village.”

Several emotions flicker across his face before he settles on surprise, “I see. Were they polite?”

You can’t help but smile, this day truly has been full of surprises and, Yoongi’s demeanor is only adding to that list.  

“I only had the privilege of meeting Seokjin and well- I kind of met Jungkook but, he seemed a little-”

“Awkward?” Yoongi smirks

“A little.” You amend, “But both of them were very polite. They explained that they often don’t receive any hospitality on stops like this; I was very sorry to hear that.”

Yoongi’s teeth seem to catch the inside of his cheek as he nods curtly, “There’s no need for apologies. Hospitality is welcome but, never expected. I try to teach my men that we should never expect gratitude for what we do as it so often comes with a price.”

“I suppose gratitude should be offered situationally then, there was very little draw back to what you did today. Our village is privy to raiders; maybe if word gets around that you all were in town, that might prevent this from happening again.”

He purses his lips before nodding in consideration, “I see you’re point. Regardless of its necessity, gratitude is always welcome: especially when free food is involved.”

His comment makes you giggle and your laughter makes his lips itch in a way they never have.

“I wholeheartedly agree with that. I get a surprising amount of baked goods sent my way doing what I do so, I’ll have no problem dolling out the gratitude while you all are here.”  

Yoongi’s brows knit in confusion, “Do you people often pay you in baked goods?”

Laughter flows freely out of your mouth then and you shake your head at his question, “Definitely not, I sell my goods for currency as does any obedient member of society,” At this Yoongi smirks again, he likes your wit, a lot, “but I do receive muffin baskets, cakes, pies and whatnot from happy customers. They’re mainly from women whose husbands have taken my ginseng remedy.”

His curiosity blooms, “And why is that?”

You feel a bit of heat rushing to your cheeks, “Ginseng enhances uh- drive, often times it can be used a stimulant to promote you know-” You’re hoping Yoongi will put the pieces together but instead his eyes remain expectant, “passion.”

The word makes Yoongi straighten up a bit and in an effort to look casual, he nods quickly and hums a little too loudly.

“Ah yes. Of course. Well, as I said- free food is free food right?” He wagers, his fingers rubbing at the bit of bark.

Its your turn to smirk now but, you quickly change the subject when you ask, “Is the leader of the clan secure? I didn’t see him when I passed through your camp.”

He clears his throat, bringing the bark back towards his mouth, “He is. I have him locked up just behind the trees so he isn’t able to influence the new recruits. He had an alarming number of unwilling participants within his group, many of them claimed to be brought there with the threat of physical harm.”

You kiss your teeth and shake your head, “I don’t understand that kind of behavior. I understand that sometimes desperate people do desperate things but, to exert power or harm over another person without a viable cause...it just makes no sense to me.”

He’s intrigued now and as he brings the bark back to his lips, his brow knit with curiosity, “Hm. So do you think there is a justification to steal but not to commit violence?”

You can’t figure out why your opinion would matter to him but, you sure as hell aren’t going to question the length of this conversation.

“I think that some people believe they have no other choice but to steal. Wealth and power aren’t possible without a poor man to stand on, to oppress- I don’t support the idea of taking what doesn’t belong to you but, I could see why people are driven to do so. People are growing tired of being the poor man. Senseless violence isn’t something I could find a justification for. What the raiders often do, is both so I guess-” You hesitate, “I’m conflicted.”

Yoongi is captivated by your explanations, not because they are particularly ground breaking but, because they are particularly human. You aren’t afraid to discuss the complexity of life nor are you afraid to admit when certain things confound you.

“That’s a fair assessment. Do you agree with today’s outcome?”

Your smile returns, as you adjust the basket on your arm again, “I did. Especially because it seemed to surprise everyone, myself included.”

His lips return to his smirk, “Why? Because I didn’t behead him?”

“Exactly.” You breathe out a laugh before continuing,  “I for one was shocked to see you deal with the situation without your trusty viper...”  

His face turns to one of incredulity, “Oh my- you're not serious are you? Do people genuinely think I keep a viper on me at all times? Do they have any idea how unpractical that is?”

Yoongi’s reaction sends you into a fit of giggles and the sound makes his lips itch again.

He decides he enjoys the sound very much.

“I’m sure you’ve set a few people straight after this morning,” You offer, wiping a bit of moisture from the corner of your eye, “I doubt the rumors will repopulate the same way after you leave.”

“What do you think of them?”

“The rumors?”

“They’re entertaining.” You shrug, “But I don’t like to make assumptions about people unless I’ve met them, not even scary and supposedly cruel generals like yourself.”

The ghost of a smile shows itself on Yoongi’s mouth and his eyes seem to glimmer, pleased with your answer.

“I wish more people had that mindset.”  

It’s all he says before promptly dropping the subject again, nodding in the direction behind him, “I should probably head back to camp. I have a feeling that the longer I am away, the smaller my chances of getting any of that bread become.”

“You’re probably right, I have to be back before sunset anyway.” Your parents don’t like it when you’re out at the river after dark, “It was very nice meeting you Yoongi. I hope you enjoy the bread.”

His lips as he realizes something vital, “I’m sure I will. Forgive me, I don’t remember catching your name...”

At his observation, you extend your hand towards his, “Oh of course, my name is Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

Without looking down, he grasps your hand gently as if he were afraid to break it, “Y/N- I’ll remember it.” He promises unnecessarily but it still sends a flutter through your heart, “Get home safe.”

When he releases your hand, you step back towards the bushel of Valerian before smiling once more,  

“You too.”

As Yoongi departs from the river, he smirks to himself.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be the routine stop he had planned on.

Perhaps this would be so much more.

[kjack89]

An Agreement Between Gentlemen (Chapter 2/?)

Continuation of the E/R Bridgerton AU (chapter 1 tumblr | AO3) with all the shenanigans. And some fake marriage. Because why not.

This Author has long been of the opinion that there is nothing so dangerous during the season as a mother desperate to make a match for her daughter, especially when that daughter is plain, or comes without a substantial dowry. But this season may bring a danger even greater than a desperate mother of daughters: desperate mothers of sons, unable – or unwilling – to seal the deal.

While certainly families with daughters, no matter how titled or landed, stand to lose much if they are unable to find a suitable marriage, the prospect of title or land passing out of the family without a suitable heir is enough to drive even the most respectable of families to desperate measures. Especially in the case of the Marquess of Enjolras, who is approaching thirty without a suitable marriage match in sight.

It is rumoured that the Dowager Marchioness is at her wit’s end and determined that her son shall marry by the end of the season. She is even accused of going so far as to negotiate terms without her son’s knowledge. There were several reports of a great row coming from the elder and younger Enjolras earlier this month, with son and mother shouting at each other for the entire park to hear. 

The Dowager Marchioness finds herself in good company, at the least: the Duchess de Courfeyrac has long despaired to any who will listen that her eldest will never settle down, and the rumour is that the Baron of Pontmercy has proclaimed he is refusing to marry any girl save for young lady he caught glimpse of for but a moment at the Thénardiers’ ball (and whom he has never seen since, assuming she does exist). And of course, the landed gentry without titles find themselves in similar straits. Just take Mr. Grantaire, who, despite owning one of the largest houses bordering the park, has yet to find a wife, and as he is well past the age one would expect, his father has all but given up on him and retired out of the country.

Of course, with the exception of Baron Pontmercy, it is well known that neither Lord Courfeyrac nor Mr. Grantaire, nor most other young rakes who have yet to settle down, finds himself short of unsuitable women, but our gentle readers will know that unscrupulous women might warm a bed but will rarely walk down an aisle. And on a contrary note, the Marquess may well be a monk – there is not a single rumour that this Author has heard of any woman, suitable or otherwise, who has warmed his bed.

Then again, there is none who would ever think to bat the term ‘rake’ in the direction of Lord Enjolras.

But speaking of our notable rakes, this Author has learned that the Marquess of Enjolras has called upon Mr. Grantaire this past week. And our readers may remember that despite several seasons’ worth of acquaintance under their belts that neither man would consider the other friend, which causes this Author to wonder just what those two have to discuss.

Whatever they may be up to, this Author is certain it will bring nothing but more despair to their poor guardians. LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 18  APRIL 1831

Grantaire blinked. "I beg your pardon?" he said, and Enjolras thought it was too his credit that he sounded only mildly baffled.

Still, Enjolras could not help the flush that rose in his cheeks at the absurdity of his request. "I am fairly certain that you heard me perfectly well," he said, a little stiffly.

"Heard you, certainly, but..." Grantaire trailed off. "You wish for me to help you get married."

"Correct."

"But you need that marriage..."

Again he trailed off, and Enjolras cleared his throat delicately. "To not be real, correct," he finished in what he hoped was a helpful way.

Judging by the look Grantaire gave him, it had not been. Still, Grantaire was silent for a long moment, taking several sips of whiskey before telling Enjolras, "I will not claim to be anyone's first choice to ask for help with any variety of matters, but I still never thought I would see the day when I would be asked by a marquess to assist him in committing fraud."

"And yet if memory serves, once upon a time, you offered me your help with anything," Enjolras said. "You even offered to black my boots."

Grantaire looked momentarily surprised. "I did not think you would remember that."

Enjolras shrugged. "It was not I who drank my weight in wine that evening."

Grantaire smirked. "True enough." His smile faded slightly and he finished his second glass of whiskey before standing and crossing again to the drink cart. "While my offer of assistance still stands, there is something I must know first."

Enjolras eyed him warily. "What's that?" he asked.

"Why," Grantaire said simply, pouring himself another glass. "If you wish for my help, I need to understand the circumstances that have driven you to this most desperate – and patently absurd – endeavor."

Enjolras scowled, though he had certainly assumed that Grantaire would not just blindly assist him without asking why. "Fine," he snapped. "If it will move this conversation along, then I will tell you." 

He waited for Grantaire to return to his seat with his whiskey before sighing and telling him grudgingly, "It's my mother."

"Your mother," Grantaire repeated.

"Yes," Enjolras said stiffly. "Do you intend on repeating everything I say? Because if so, this tale may never be finished."

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. "Forgive me, my lord," he said coolly. "Your statement merely took me by surprise, as I did not expect you to be a man who is cowed by anyone, let alone his own mother."

Enjolras sighed and drew a hand across his face. "No, it's you who must forgive me," he said, even more grudgingly than before. "I should not have snapped at you, but my mother..." He sighed again. "There is none who vexes me like she does.
"

"Not even I?" Grantaire asked, a small smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

"Well," Enjolras allowed, "perhaps one other who vexes me like she does." Grantaire smiled, but it was too soft to be his usual smirk, and there was something in his expression that Enjolras could not quite place, but made him flush again, and he looked away, busying himself by pouring another cup of tea. "In any case, my mother is insisting that I get married so that my future bride's dowry can support the lavish lifestyle to which she has become accustomed."

Grantaire took a sip of whiskey. "And I suppose telling her no is off the table?"

"I have told her no many times," Enjolras said with a sigh. "And cut her off from the money I control to boot. But her only other assets come from some land she inherited in her own right, and she is threatening to raise levies on the poor people who work that land if she does not receive any additional funds."

"Like the fiefdoms of old," Grantaire murmured, a dark looking crossing his face. 

Enjolras nodded. "Precisely."

It took a moment for Grantaire's expression to even out, and he gave his head a swift shake. "So then, give her more of your money," he suggested.

"I cannot."

Grantaire's brow furrowed. "Why ever not?"

This, honestly, had been what he had been looking forward to least about having this conversation with Grantaire, in large part because he knew the man was liable to mock him with the reminder that the road to hell was paved with good intentions. "Most of my money is tied into trusts and investments to maintain the houses and lands, and to support infrastructure improvements in the village," Enjolras said. "And what remains is held in a trust by my solicitor that only I can draw on, and for specific purposes only."

"And let me guess, supporting your mother is not one of those specific purposes?"

Grantaire's tone was wry, and Enjolras sighed. "Indeed it is not. In fact, when I wrote the trust covenant, I deliberately chose to strictly forbid that type of use."

It looked as though Grantaire was trying very hard not to roll his eyes, but for once, Enjolras couldn’t really find it in himself to blame him. “So if you can’t use the money already under an existing trust, then you need new money, and the easiest way for that is…”

Grantaire trailed off and Enjolras nodded, relieved that Grantaire had finally caught up. “Some poor girl’s dowry,” he finished.

Grantaire pursed his lips, his expression skeptical. “You truly believe your mother would not just sell some jewels or something if the situation were truly that dire?”

“She might eventually,” Enjolras allowed, but his tone turned grim. “But I know my mother, and purposefully cruel is the kindest way to describe her. She would sooner squeeze every cent from her workers than suffer even a minor inconvenience, no matter the pain or destruction she leaves in her stead.”

“And you’re certain this is not simply a ploy to try to get you married off?” Enjolras looked affronted at the question and Grantaire held his hands up defensively. “I beg your pardon, but it had to be asked. Mothers are known for resorting to extreme measures in their desperation to see their children married off...or so Lady Whistledown would have us all believe.”

Enjolras wet his lips with his tongue as he contemplated his answer. “She might,” he said honestly. “I certainly wouldn’t put it past her. But I believe that if that were her true motive, she would’ve tried to force me into marriage through guilt over wanting grandchildren or a daughter-in-law, not going straight to the money angle.”

Grantaired nodded. “Well,” he said, “it’s good to know that you come by your manipulation tactics honestly, at least.” Enjolras gave him a withering look that Grantaire blithely ignored, asking instead, “What if you used some money from your trust to make a large purchase, a house or a tract of land, and then sold it quickly? Surely the profits from the sale would not fall under the terms of the trust.”

“They would not, but the trust—”

Grantaire groaned. “Do not tell me that you set up the trust so that you could not use it to expand your lands or holdings.”

Enjolras threw his hands up in frustration. “You know damn well I wish to be rid of these things!” he half-shouted, his irritation at the entire situation getting to the better of him. “Why would I allow myself the right to purchase more of that which I wish to depart from?”

“Because you really should have foreseen this becoming an issue,” Grantaire sighed, rubbing his forehead. He drained his glass of whiskey but to Enjolras’s relief, set it down on the table instead of getting up to pour himself another. “May I ask a question you will certainly find foolish?”

“Have you ever asked for my permission before?” Enjolras returned.

Grantaire half-smiled. “A fair question,” he said. “And I suppose I should not get in the habit now. Very well.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Why can’t you just get married? Most marriages of your social strata are loveless, or at least start out that way, more business arrangements than unions, and most if not all have at least financial motivation.”

Enjolras just shook his head. “I would not do that to any poor woman,” he said, his voice low. “Even if they imagine they would be stuck in a loveless marriage, I would not take from them the chance at one, or at having a family of their own, neither of which they would get from me.”

For a moment, Grantaire’s expression was almost soft as he gazed at him. “I see,” he said slowly, and Enjolras frowned at his sudden change in tone.

“What?”

Grantaire shrugged. “Here I thought you might be waiting for true love.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes again. “Hilarious,” he said dryly.

But Grantaire just gave him a small smile. “I would suggest you do not dismiss the idea until you have tried it.: 

Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “Is that why you’re not wed?” he asked snidely. “Are you waiting for ‘true love’?”

Grantaire’s expression didn’t so much as twitch but Enjolras still immediately regretted his words, or at least the tone with which he delivered them. “I am not wed because I do not wish to be. Now forgive me, but I believe we were here to talk about your nuptial problems, not my own.”

Enjolras nodded stiffly, not quite willing to apologize yet again for the crime of sticking his foot in his mouth, but luckily, Grantaire moved on quickly. “So then borrow money from one of us,” he suggested, tracing a finger idly over the brocade fabric of his chair. “Certainly I can give you the equivalent of a good dowry.”

“And explain it to my mother how?” Enjolras asked. “A dowry is a one-time cash injection that my mother knows will not come again, and she can plan accordingly. If she knows or suspects that I have borrowed money, she will not stop until I have bled my friends dry.”

Grantaire arched an eyebrow. “I did not know that I was counted as one of your friends.”

“Do you really think I would ask this of someone I did not consider friend?”

Grantaire looked away, his expression unreadable. “Well,” he said, his voice a little strange, “in fairness, you do let Marius join us at the Musain, so.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Fine,” he snapped. “I will not let my mother bleed dry my friends, acquaintances and occasional nemeses, then.”

Grantaire looked back at Enjolras, his usual smirk back in full force. “Occasional nemeses,” he repeated. “Oh, I do like the sound of that.”

“Are you going to help me or not?” Enjolras asked impatiently.

Grantaire stood abruptly, but he didn’t return to the drink cart. Instead, he wandered over to the window, tucking his hands in his pockets as he stared out the window overlooking the park. Enjolras knew him well enough to know that he was thinking, and he stayed quiet despite everything in his nature wanting him to ask what was going through Grantaire’s mind.

After a long moment, Grantaire gave his head a little shake, still staring out the window. “It’ll be tricky,” he murmured, almost solely to himself, as if he had forgotten Enjolras was in the room. “We will need a plausible explanation, a suitable scandal...and of course, long-term…”

He broke off and stared out the window in silence for one long before turning back around, his troubled expression replaced by something like resolution. “Adélaïde,” he said, and Enjolras stared at him.

“I’m sorry, who?” he asked blankly.

“My sister,” Grantaire said firmly. “She is the solution. You will marry my sister for her dowry.”

Enjolras opened his mouth and promptly closed it again, completely taken aback by how this conversation had suddenly turned. “And dare I ask what you will say if I tell you that I have absolutely no desire to marry your sister, for her dowry or for any other reason?”

Grantaire didn’t look remotely deterred. “I can’t imagine she’d be too thrilled with the match either, but seeing as how she has no say in the matter…”

He trailed off as Enjolras recoiled, his expression darkening. “I did not think you the kind of gentleman who would think so little of his own sister’s consent.”

To his surprise, Grantaire rolled his eyes. “I think a great deal of her consent,” he said impatiently. “But she gets no say because she has been dead for almost twenty years.”

“Oh.”

Enjolras barely breathed the syllable, the word more an instinctive response less to what Grantaire had said and more to the pain he could see painted across Grantaire’s expression, even as his brusque tone tried to hide it.

Grantaire just jerked his head in what may have been a nod, a muscle working in his jaw, and Enjolras hesitated before saying, tentatively, “I am sorry. I did not know.”

“No one does,” Grantaire said quietly. “I…” He trailed off before shaking his head. “She and I were quite close when we were children, and after she died, it was simply easier to not speak of her.” He did not wait for any additional sounds of sympathy from Enjolras, instead straightening his shoulders as his tone turned businesslike. “But that works in our favor, as it means that no one in London knows that she is dead. It will not be difficult to tell a few key people about her, that I indulge my sister for nothing and that she has fallen in love with someone back in the country, the vicar’s son or something. And why should I subject her to the marriage market when her hand is already spoken for?”

He delivered this scenario as if it was one he had thought about before, and Enjolras shook his head slowly. But Grantaire did not let him interrupt. “Then you can come visit me,” he continued. “Just a friendly visit out to the country for a few days, mid-season. But we can stage a scandalous encounter between you and my ‘sister’ and leak the details to Lady Whistledown. A quick marriage without any of your family in attendance will be the best way to settle the scandal, and you can be ‘married’ with none the wiser.”

“Save for you,” Enjolras said faintly.

Grantaire considered it and nodded. “Myself, and likely my butler and housekeeper. I cannot imagine pulling this off without their assistance.” He looked at Enjolras expectantly. “So what do you think?”

Enjolras shook his head again. “It seems almost insane enough to work,” he said slowly, because he could not think of anything else to say. “But it’s also a ruse I cannot imagine keeping up for long, and while I might pray every day that my mother drops dead, I doubt this ruse would outlive her.”

“Ah, but you are missing the beauty of it,” Grantaire said. “As my sister is already dead, it’s easy enough to stage an illness and then her death.” Enjolras made an unconvinced noise and Grantaire added, “And besides, because of the nature of the scandal, it would make it only natural that she would not wish to subject herself to London, giving you plenty of time before she needs to grow sickly for you to carry on without any concern.”

“It certainly seems like you’ve thought this through,” Enjolras said, scrambling for some protest that would make Grantaire stop and listen, that would get him to reconsider this almost certainly asinine plan.

Grantaire smirked slightly. “I have,” he said simply.

Enjolras gave him a look. “Then I know beyond doubt that it will not work.”

Grantaire just shrugged unconcernedly. “It may not,” he said. “But what have you to lose in trying? And what other options do you possibly have?”

None, was the answer, and it was all that Enjolras could tell Grantaire, a little helplessly. “None. And I have nothing left to lose.”

“Good,” Grantaire said. “Then we have a plan.”

[chubbymoongoddess]

TW: Mentions of mpreg, slavery, rape and stockholm syndrome.

if this isn't your thing, don't read it. This is also set in modern times.

Longer version.

Omega Jm born into a royal family, making him the prince. It's rare for male omegas to be born, so he's extra special. The more he grows over the years, the more beautiful he gets. He literally has every man and woman in the kingdom wanting him by the time he's 21. Not only is he gorgeous, but he's humble as well and his kingdom loves him for that just as much as they love him for his beauty. Jm takes to time to greet and speak to everyone he can on his outings, making sure to listen to any complaints they may have so he can relay them to his father. Literally the definition of an angel.

Well, one night he goes on an unsupervised outing. Everything goes well until he's on his way to return home. It's late and the streetlamps are really the only lights on so it's not that easy to see. One minute Jm is conscious and well aware of what street he's on and the next he's out cold, body being hauled into a windowless, unmarked van. Of course this would happen on the one night he decided to sneak out by himself. He should have known better.

He wakes up with a massive headache in a cold, damp stone room, much like a cell, with shackles on his feet and wrists, the ones on his feet being connected to the wall. His breathing is heavy as he's terrified and it only accelerates as the door to the room opens, a strange man he's never seen before walking in with an annoying smirk on his face.

"Well, well, our gorgeous prince finally awakens."

Jm backs up against the wall as much as he can, voice shaking as he speaks. "W..Who are you? Where am I? Why.. Why are you doing this?"

The man just laughs, moving over to Jm, grabbing his chin between his thumb and forefinger. "You're very sought after. I'd be stupid if I didn't try to catch you. You're going to sell for a very high price."

He was terrified before but those words make Jm's blood run cold. Fuck.. Fuck he had been captured by slave traders. If he was sold he knew he'd most likely fucking die after being tortured and abused for god knows how long. The only thing he could think to do was to plead for his life.

"No!! No please! I..If you let me go I.. I can get my father to pay you anything you want! Just please let me go!" There were tears in his eyes and his voice was wavering, bottom lip quivering as he tried not to sob.

The man just laughed, letting the omega's face go as he moved back toward the door. "The only thing I'll get if I let you go is sent to prison. What, do you think I'm stupid? Shut up and get some rest. Tomorrow is the auction day and I won't have you looking like some sort of sleep deprived zombie." and with that, he left, leaving Jm alone to sob himself to sleep on the hard stone floor.

Morning comes and jm is taken to a large room filled with seats with a single, circular stage in the middle. He watches as one by one, different people of different ranks and genders are auctioned off, until it's finally his turn and he's dragged up onto the stage by the shackles. He stands there as men start placing bids on him almost immediately. It doesn't seem to ever stop and jm just wants to go home. His attention is diverted when a man, obviously an alpha by his build, jm can't make his scent out in this room, stands up, offering more than 70 million usd for him. It's over then. the auction is won as nobody else wants to bid higher. Jm is led off of the stage and into the back room to meet with the man who bought him. He'll admit, he's pretty handsome, but that thought shouldn't even be running through his mind right now. The man doesn't ask his name. He knows who he is. They all know who he is. All the man says to Jm is "I'm going to have so much fun with you."

The omega is transported back to the alpha's home and luxurious doesn't even begin to explain how nice his house is. It's basically a mansion surrounded by massive, well kept gardens and fountains. Jm swears he hears a horse whinny in the distance. On his ride there, he's told what he will be used for. Sex and feeding. It scares the fuck out of Jm and he starts to try to get out of the carriage. He does NOT want this. There's no way he's ever going to want this! The alpha just grabs him by the hair and yanks him back. He's have made it a few steps away if the alpha wasn't so quick. Once he's shown his room, which is no more than a bedroll on the ground in the dungeon, he's explained the rules and what the alpha expects of him. He answers with a bitter "yes sir."

He's given an hour or two to "settle in" before the alpha comes back with servants wheeling in a little cart full of food. He hasn't eaten in a while so he is hungry, but only eats until he's full. After refusing a few times, the alpha forces his mouth open and forced the rest of the food into his mouth, leaving Jm with a bloated stomach that renders him too full to move. It's then that the alpha commands him to undress and get into "presenting" position. Jm panics. He's too full to even fucking move and he really doesn't want this alpha inside of him. He pleads, struggles even, but the alpha has had enough of the omega's resisting so he forces him into the position himself. Jm blocks out everything that happens next. All he knows is that he fought as hard as he could the whole way through.

This goes on for months with jm resisting and fighting back each time. It has resulted in him having a few black eyes, bruises littering his body. He hasn't gained any weight because he purges everything he eats when the alpha leaves him alone for the night. In fact, he's lost weight because of it. It results in more beatings. He doesn't want to give in, his will is strong and he keeps telling himself that he'll fight until the day he dies. That is until he finds out that he's carrying a pup. It was bound to happen, he had gone through a heat not too long ago and the alpha was in his "room" non stop. Things changed then as Jm's world came crumbling down. He couldn't continue to fight when there was a pup inside of him. He couldn't bear to have it hurt, despite it being his rapist's spawn. The next time the alpha comes in, Jm just looks up at him and opens his mouth. There's not much light in his eyes and the alpha notices. He asks what's going on and Jm reluctantly tells him. The prince has never seen the alpha's face light up the way it does at the news. Before he gets too ahead of himself though, he asks if Jm is going to be good from now on to which the prince quietly nods. The alpha is pleased with this and unshackles Jm from the wall, leading him out of the dungeons and down one of the many long hallways in the mansion. He's lead to a large bedroom, furnished with all sorts of things from bookshelves to a large tv hanging on the wall with a soft looking couch in front of it. There's a bathroom attached to the room as well. The only thing that Jm can really focus on is the bed.

He immediately starts to tear up, moving toward it. At first the alpha thinks he's going to try to run for it and he starts to reach for Jm's hair to yank him back but when he notices that he's moving toward the bed, he stops, watching as the omega carefully sits on it. It's been months since he's been inside of an actual room like this and all he wants to do is sleep. He asks the alpha if it's okay to which he responds a simple "after I'm finished with you." Of course it would be like that. Jm nods with a sigh and lets everything happen as normal, only this time, when the alpha is finished, he unshackles Jm, taking them in his hand and leaves, locking the door behind him. For the first time in months, Jm doesn't purge and he takes a shower before falling asleep.

Four months down the line, Jm is a different person. He's only been smacked a few times in the face since he's found out he's pregnant. After the last slap two weeks ago, he hasn't acted out since. He does his very best to keep "his alpha" happy, referring to him as master, owner..even my alpha . This has had him rewarded multiple times with things he asks for. Certain foods, games, anything to keep his mind busy when he's alone. He's thought about asking to call his family once, but decided against it as he knew he'd get punished for even suggesting it. Due to all of the stuffing the alpha made him do and since he was no longer purging, Jm had gained and it had definitely begun to show. He only ever wore robes anymore but he could feel how his ass bounced as he walked, could feel his thighs rub together more, there was even a bit of pudge on his stomach that wasn't caused by the pup. It.. It oddly felt.. good?

Jm exhaled and quickly shuffled into the bathroom to look at himself. His stomach wasn't very big yet but there was a rather noticeable bump and as he ran his hands over it, he bit his lip. The moment he turned around to look at his ass in the mirror though, he started to leak slick. It only got worse as he reached back to smack himself, watching his cheeks jiggle. He figured he had some time before the alpha came back so, he leaned back against the sink, groaning as he felt his ass spread against it slightly. He started to stroke himself, whimpering and keeping his noises to a minimum, lest anyone would hear. somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew this was wrong. He knew he shouldn't be feeling this way, but at the moment, he really could not care less. He came harder than he had ever came before after a few moments, panting heavily as he rested back against the sink. He began to wonder if he'd get more praise and rewards if he continues to gain and bare offspring for his alpha. He'd have to possibly ask the next time he came in. The prince cleaned himself and the mess he made up and went to sit on the bed to wait.

When his alpha came in, he found Jm sitting on his knees with his hands on his thighs. He raised a brow at the omega, moving over to stroke his cheek. He asks what's going on and Jm asks him about everything that's on his mind, promising he'll be a very good boy if the alpha agrees to this. His alpha is taken aback, honestly. He agrees almost immediately and explains that this is what he has bought Jm for. The omega nods and immediately crawls closer, opening his mouth for the food that his alpha had brought him. He was going to be the best boy possible from now on.

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In my mind I see Jm getting to be about 450-500lbs in this. Still very mobile despite his weight. He essentially gives this alpha quite a few offspring, enjoying it each time. He eventually "falls in love" with this alpha, falls in love with how he is a servant to him. Loves the way the alpha makes him do certain things like crawling on his hands and knees, begging for his food or his alpha's cock sometimes. There's no dumbification really in this either. Jm is just tired of being beaten and he falls in love with.. feeling how big he's gotten and enjoys all of the belly rubs and groping his alpha gives him. He's able to see his pups, though not much. I kind of had an idea of this alpha eventually agreeing to let Jm see his family once as well. Idk.