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demonicbaby666 · 10 months ago

Note

Dom Emily prentiss x intern fem reader is all i ask!! Smutty ofc, a lil bit of a humiliation kink if you’re comfortable!!! Thank yewww

Packing Heat

One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 4.8k+

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, strap-ons (r!receiving), semi-public sex (office sex, again…), praise, degradation, mommy kink, kind of dub-con at one point, top!Emily, bottom!reader

Summary: Interning at the BAU means you don’t interact with the person in charge a lot. Of course, this doesn’t mean you haven’t seen the section chief in passing or exchanged pleasantries; it's that they’re simple, short-lived and often anti-climatic. However one evening, you find yourself in the desolate office with no chance of going home, work to be done, but no one to sit with you through the process. With only one other soul residing on the sixth floor, it seems Emily may be your best bet for company.

A/n: Listen, could she be more dom? Yes. Is there any humiliation? Not really... But I got lost while writing, so please don't be mad at me... Hope you still enjoy!

When you'd first started at the BAU, it was safe to say you hadn't seen much of the woman calling the shots. There were always updates about when the team were taken out of state, what their cases would entail, the steady progress being made, and the brief comical encounters Garcia spewed around the office. When they were back, everyone made an effort to small talk. They welcomed you well and continued to appreciate the little things you did for them daily. Emily, however, was constantly on the go, meaning every encounter you'd had with her consisted of one-way glances and hopeful smiles in the event she decided to notice her surroundings and the human lifeform less than two metres away.

She never did, though, until one uneventful evening.

Almost everyone had vacated the building. The only remaining souls left on the sixth floor were you, Emily, and a one-person cleaning crew—whom you watched exit through glass doors before approaching the brunette's office with shaky knees. Peeking through the window, you saw her attention dart to and from the bright computer screen to the mountains of bureaucratic paperwork lying atop her desk. It was easy to get lost in the little creases between her eyebrows, brought out by the deep scowl she wore, the delicate way her fingers were woven together, and the pads of her thumbs skirting against one another as she pondered in deep thought.

It was nearing eight, and you were struggling to understand how someone could appear so put together at this late hour, given that their day was most certainly jam-packed with non-stop slog.

Emily's eyes suddenly flashed up. She squinted toward her door, trying to figure out who'd be here this late other than herself. When she appeared to have worked it out, she leaned back victoriously in her chair, a smug smile on her face, when she called out, "Are you going to stand out there all night?"

You could have done two things: scurried off like a teenager caught peeping or held your chin up high and walked into the older woman's office with little to no shame. Somehow, you managed to do a mix of both, scurrying in with sagging shoulders, a guilty smile plastered on your face and trembling hands clasping your laptop over your chest.

"Well, it's eerily quiet out there, and I would go home to write this paper. It's just that my roommate and her boyfriend have an awful tendency to forget about volume control when they're—" You cut yourself off, realising it probably wasn't appropriate to talk to your boss about your roommate's over-the-top borderline pornographic soundscape. "I was wondering if I could, you know."

Emily, satirising as ever, waited with a raised eyebrow and a relaxed smile for you to continue your purposefully unfinished question.

"Sorry, I should let you work." You surrendered to your weak resolve with flushed cheeks and began to turn around.

"Sit," she ordered before you had fully turned back around to the door, nodding to the available chair on the other side of her desk. Her eyes followed your journey to the seat, watching as you placed your laptop down and opened it with shaky fingers. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to her work. "I could do with some company."

The following silence, starting as unsettling and stagnant, blossomed into something warm and comfortable. There were occasional glances thrown your way and vice versa. Their acknowledgement and appreciation were shown in the form of timid smiles on your end and double takes followed by teasing smirks on Emily's.

When half an hour had passed, your shoulders had finally relaxed, your fingers had stopped their infernal twitching, and your paper neared its completion. There was a proud smile cresting, and you were trying to prevent it from forming, knowing how dorkish it made you look. But you knew there was no hope when your cheeks ached and your jaw locked. You granted yourself the freedom to display your gloating smile.

Just as expected, Emily had a questioning look on her face when you dared to look up from the document. There was a playfulness to the upward quirk of her lips - the superiority of a predator knowing the power they have over their prey, ready to prove it at any given moment.

"I've almost finished," you timidly admitted, feeling obligated to explain as heat infiltrated your jutted-out cheeks.

Without a second thought, the ravenette stood up and made her way around the desk. She could have easily chosen to turn the laptop around. Instead, she took the far more intimate route.

Soft curves grazed your shoulder blades, causing you to shiver. The weight finally settled, soft padding pressed flat against your back as Emily read your paper, and suddenly, your stomach had worked itself into looping knots, and your heart was racing.

The struggle continued as you fought not to fidget, if only to alleviate the growing tension mounting between your thighs. This was only made worse when Emily's right hand left the back of your chair to drop down over your shoulder and land comfortably on your thigh.

"Such a smart girl," she whispered sultrily into the shell of your ear, squeezing generous flesh between her fingers.

With a scrambled brain, there was little fight to be put up against the meek whimper that crackled against the constricted lining of your throat. Subconsciously, your thighs tensed, and your pussy fluttered as you were reminded how close Emily's hand was to where you could only dream she'd touch.

You'd thought you imagined it—the subtle shift in the room from breezy and light to torrid and all-consuming, but with Emily's fingers veering off course, inching higher and higher, reality came crashing down.

"Thank you," you struggled to get the words out, and when they did come out, they were tremulous and feeble.

Turning to look at her may have, in hindsight, been a mistake because where her gaze should have been fixed on the laptop screen, it was glued to your lips. Unexpectedly, your stomach flipped, and you felt dizzy. She was still superbly perfect up close, skin smooth like silk, cheekbones sharp as a razor, and lips cut from velvet. It was too close, dangerously so, you had to look away. Outside the window, you spotted a swarm of birds barely visible against the night sky. You ignored the clanking of your heart as you focussed on their synchronicity, watching them circle each other until they became one big blur of messy movements.

The hand resting on the leather backing of your chair rose, skirting up and over your neck, until a firm grip was established around your dangling ponytail. She was gentle when she tugged, aware that though she wanted to educate you in the art of being owned, you were delicate.

"I think a pretty thing like you deserves a reward," she baited. "Don't you?"

Her grip on you may have been physical. However, a stronger pull was coming from deep within you, an unimportant piece of scrap metal drawn in by a powerful magnet. It was useless to deny her. The mesmerising glow of her chocolate eyes and the promise of being made to feel special was too powerful. So, you nodded slowly but eagerly, desire painting your eyes dark shades of lust.

"That's a good girl."

Emily didn't miss how you preened at the praise and safely stored that information away for further use. She shifted to your side, hands migrating to the small of your waist, guiding you to your feet. The act of it was far gentler than you'd expected, like a gentleman asking a maiden to dance, sweeping her off her feet to whisk her away into a fairytale land filled with magic and romance.

Certain the benign treatment would be short-lived, you granted yourself the leniency to enjoy it whilst it lasted, refusing to get too caught up in the dull ache between your legs that craved the form of savagery Emily displayed in the field.

There was nothing short of passion in how she worked. It drove you crazy. As wrong as it felt, you couldn't help but envy the dirtbag the team was working to catch because you saw how badly the brunette wanted them. The look in her eyes, gratification and disgust all at once, when she'd achieved what she set out to do and was staring the devil right in the face - it made your heart race, your palms sweat and your cunt throb.

The memory kickstarted what could only be described as a brutal attack upon the older woman's lips. To her credit, Emily indulged the outburst for a lot longer than you'd have thought. As if she'd expected it, she quickly responded, pulling you into her body and tilting her head to the side to deepen the kiss. The lead was stolen promptly from your grasp when Emily wedged a leg between your thighs, backed you up against her desk and tactically slid her tongue into your gaped mouth. You would have gasped if not for the fact you were immediately indulged in the minty taste of your boss's tongue skirting over the roof of your mouth. So much so that you scarcely noticed the pressure coming from your core was no longer just a phantom need manifested but taut clothed muscle pressing you further and further into the sharp wooden edge of the desk.

"Emily," you breathily moaned, pulling back and separating your kiss-swollen lips from the brunette's. Ordinarily, you wouldn't have allowed what happened next to occur, but this was Emily, after all, the BAU section chief, and if you were to let anyone order you about, it would be her.

She backed away from you with a final nip to your bottom lip, letting it go with a pop, and you fought the urge to reach out and pull her back to you. You knew you'd already tried to take things into your own hands once, and doing so again may undermine any chances you had of keeping the ball rolling on tonight's affairs.

You could feel the tight pull of your ponytail and all the places where hair had been lead array from the confines of your hairband, and it truly dawned on you how out of sorts you must have appeared. Tracing your fingers over your lips, you could make out how swollen they were - puffy and hot, yet desperate and pouted, begging for more. Your breathing was laboured, filling the room's silence, and your shirt suddenly felt too tight as your chest expanded with each intake of oxygen. It almost came as a relief when Emily opened her mouth to finally speak until you heard what she'd said.

"Take your clothes off," she mindlessly ordered, walking around to her chair and sitting back in it. Her eager eyes trained over your body with the faintest shimmer of mirth.

Initially, it was a shock. Of course, it was. You were in an official government building, personnel still sparsely spread throughout, and a goddess of a woman was asking you to bare yourself to her.

For the longest time, revealing your body to someone always felt like giving up something. Perhaps some kind of purity. The moment you gave it up, it bred only guilt and shame that twisted and pulled at the pit of your stomach until you felt sick. You stood there, waiting for that feeling to come. It never did.

Remaining still, your body pulsed not with nerves but with exhilaration and anticipation. It took a few seconds to realise this was precisely what you wanted. You wanted to give this false sense of purity away. There was not a sudden influx of courage soaring through every living cell of your body. However, there was enough for you to put on a front and do as you were told.

"Slowly." Emily sat further back and placed her elbows neatly over the arms of her chair. She laced her fingers together, offered you an encouraging nod, and then was back to watching you raptly.

Feeling like a glutton, you followed a path of desire and heeded Emily's request, fingers increasingly fumbling over each button of your shirt.

"So obedient." And in no way was it said negatively; the adulatory smile she gave you only sought to prove that further.

The way she looked at you made you feel as though you were already naked. Maybe that was why it was so easy to get lost in the subtlety of undressing. It was art, and you were a performer. That's what you told yourself. And for the most part, it worked.

With closed eyes, you trailed your fingers over your shoulders, letting your shirt drop to the floor. The AC raised goosebumps over your chest, pebbled your nipples under your plain bra, and you smiled. You smiled because this was the most alive you had felt in months. The thrill of moving on to your slacks and deftly unclasping your belt felt like being on a rollercoaster, like missing a step and laughing fear in the face afterwards. You felt utterly fearless.

In the back of your mind, you could sense Emily's eyes still on you. You could hear her moving around but didn't think to check her reaction. You were in your element, and far be it for a look of appraisal, or lack of, to stop you. That was until your trousers hit the carpet with a soft thud, and a sharp breath was heard from across you.

Your eyes snapped open, and you found Emily's smile was absent. The brunette now had her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she looked you up and down, knuckles white from her deadly grip over the armrests.

She lifted a hand, palm facing the ceiling as her index and middle finger crooked. "Come here so I can get a proper look at you," she said, slightly breathless.

The desk had conveniently covered the lower half of Emily's body, which meant that when you circled around and came to stand next to her, you could see exactly what the earlier ruffling had been about.

"Is that?" You froze, both shocked and utterly intrigued by the thick black dildo jutting out from the older woman's opened slacks.

She didn't need you to finish the question, already nodding as she followed your line of sight. Leaning forward with an outstretched arm, Emily coiled her fingers around your wrist and pulled you forward, causing you to almost stumble over your own feet. At this closer distance, you could tell the faux cock would give you a run for your money. It was thicker than anything you had taken before, though that was not a hard trophy to earn, given that the most you had let anyone put inside you was three fingers.

"Do you want to come sit on mommy's lap?" Emily asked with a tilt of her head.

She didn't miss how your breath caught in your throat, how you seemed to stop blinking, stop moving, stop existing.

"Are you scared?" the lioness asked, sights set on her prized fawn.

You shook your head and placed one foot in front of the other, eyes downcast as you took in the size of Emily's additional appendage. The shake of your jaw gave you away.

"I don't like being lied to," she snapped, eyes dimming to an even darker shade of brown.

She pulled you in by your waist and sat you on her lap, cock brushing over the thin material of your underwear. Instinctively, you wedged your bottom lip between your teeth to quiet yourself. But Emily wasn't having any of it. Her thumb came to your captive lip, where she helped release it with a soft flick.

The smooth texture of Emily's cock through your sodden panties was a needed relief. Its head purposefully pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves evoked a flurry of shivers to run down your spine. And with nothing holding you back, you moaned in gratitude.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Emily smirked, watching you rut against her.

"Yes," you uttered, breath caught in your throat.

Happy to watch, Emily relaxed her shoulders and leaned back, enjoying the show you were putting on for her. Only when she recognised the tell-tell signs of frustration wash over your features, from your creased brow to the bite of your lip between your teeth, did a sick smirk lick the edges of her lips. With a mischievous glint shining in her eyes, the older woman shifted her position, pointedly ignoring the sound it pulled from you.

"Something wrong?" she asked with a hitch of one eyebrow, adamant to appear oblivious.

You gave no reply, only held tight to her shoulders in defiance and continually ground down on her, trying so hard to pleasure yourself to no avail that your eyes began to sting with the emergence of tears.

With sweat threatening to spill down the side of your face, the tension between your legs starting to ache, and your release nowhere near in sight, you threw your head back with a sigh and whispered a quiet 'please' to the ceiling.

"Please what?" Came the dull reply, tone bored, unamused, unimpressed.

You tried to impale yourself, failing as strong hands held you down. It was driving you crazy—pleasure being so close yet so far.

With one hand removed from your hip, Emily gripped your jaw and turned your attention solely to her stern gaze, "Are you going to stop being a brat and tell me what you want?"

When no answer came, she let go, jerking your head back as if disgusted with the lack of compliance.

"Get up."

Ice, you were made of ice. Sat still, shocked, speechless and slightly mortified.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Emily's voice was no longer flat; it was not roaring either. Instead, it was layered, resembling the same barbed tone a teacher might use with a disobedient student. It was enough of a motivator to get you to rise to your feet.

Following you closely, the older woman, too, rose to her full height, hands meticulously reaching behind your back to expertly relieve you of your bra. Never once did she look you in the eye.

With the same callous approach, you were turned and pressed against the desk, papers sticking to your heated chest. Emily was quick to loop her fingers through the hem of your underwear and slip them down your thighs, allowing gravity to do the rest.

The full-bodied presence behind you lessened, and you took it as the opportune moment to glance back.

The brunette had let her trousers drop to the floor, allowing you to see how her porcelain skin was directly contrasted by the black leather of her strap-on. Unlike yourself, she did not appear nervous or afraid. As she kicked the tailored pants aside and met your gaze, you realised how in control she was.

Her gaze moved down your body, hands running down your back, until finally, she pressed herself against you and lowered her body atop yours.

"I can feel how wet you are," she teased, running two fingers through the mess between your legs. "Are you always this wet?"

"Emily, please," you begged.

"I asked before, please what?" She raked five fingers down your side, moving them back up till they wound tightly in your hair and gripped your neck to an uncomfortable arch. Two fingers pushed inside you but did no more than that, remaining still as stone. "If you're going to be a baby and refuse to tell me what you want, you'll get nothing."

"Fuck me!" You no longer had the sound of mind to acknowledge shouting something vulgar could attract attention. Logic had evaded you, allowing you to play right into your boss's hands. "Please just fuck me."

Sliding her slick fingers out of you, she proudly stated, "That wasn't hard, was it?"

If the older woman wanted an answer, she did not allow for one. In one fluid motion, she rose from over you and snapped her hips forward, sheathing the entire length of her cock into your cunt. Your breath caught in your throat, resulting in a strained groan tumbling out of your open mouth. The pit of your stomach dropped, and try as you might have not to clench around the toy inside you, you did precisely that.

It was new, the foreign feeling of being filled so fully that one slight move would summon pleasure that sent shivers through your whole body. It wasn't unwelcome, especially when Emily started to move, and heat engulfed your entire body. Her pace was languid, allowing you to feel each slide of her cock along your slick walls, how each push of her hips ended in the tip hitting the spot within you to cause the furling in your stomach to expand tenfold. It was all you could do not to scream when the push and pull and Emily's hips moved with more purpose, jerking your body into the edge of her desk.

"I've barely started, and you're already dripping down your thighs." Her voice was laced with mirth, finger smearing your mess as if to prove an unnecessary point that had your cheeks burning up. "How long have you been thinking about this?" Emily finished her question with an arduous thrust. "How many times have you sunk your fingers into your pussy and thought of me?"

The questions continued, each hitting the nail right on the head. Your cheeks were scorched with the embarrassment that comes with having your desires known and exposed, but it did not take hold of your conscience as the event of falling in front of a large crowd might have. It was comparable to how a blushing maiden may feel when caught by a suitor in only their undergarments. It excited that small part of you that gave in to demoralisation and encouraged you enough to meet Emily halfway as she thrust into you.

As your pleasure mounted, the need for more grew. Your clit, swollen and needy, begged for relief, and you beckoned to its call, sliding one hand from above your head to the juncture between your legs. It was when the tips of your fingers brushed against your sensitive pearl and you gained the briefest taste of the euphoria that Emily removed her hand from your thigh and snatched your hand away, halting all movement.

You could have cried, having everything, then nothing, so quickly.

"Did I say you could do that?"

Abruptly pulling out, Emily stood tall and proud, staring down at you with curiosity and disappointment lining the brown of her eyes. She heard you whimper and acknowledged your sniffle.

"There's no need to cry," she tutted, flipping you onto your back and lifting you by your shoulders. "You're going to listen to me from now on."

You nodded, and she once again lined her cock to your opening, only now she waited, taunting you with possibilities.

"Beg," she instructed.

And you heeded.

"Please. I need you."

"You can do better." She sounded bored, and this struck a nerve within you, one that begged you to impress her, show her you could be a good little girl, and beg as though your life depended on it.

You took a heaving breath and looked into Emily's eyes, sporting your best puppy eyes. "I need you. I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me with your big cock, mommy. Make me scream out your name. I need it."

"There's a good pet," she cooed, mesmerising you with the bating of her lashes as she looked down to where your bodies were so close to touching.

It all happened in a blur. The next thing you knew, your nails were digging into muscled shoulders, legs wrapping around a slim waist as the brunette filled you, wasting no time in picking up a brutal tempo. You barely recognised the sound of your voice as high-pitched obscenities spilt past your lips. You felt your whole body light up, heard blood pulse in your ears, and saw in real-time just how easy it was to aid Emily in calling upon your impending orgasm.

Your vulgar mouth, luckily, seemed to amuse Emily enough for her to let you continue rutting your hips against her. The corners of her lips curled, and her smirk lasted only so long for you to see before she inched forward and kissed you with passion and hunger. It was easy, so easy, to melt into the brief moment of intimacy. The butterflies felt tangible, and the sparks crackled in your ears; it felt so fucking good you'd almost forgotten just where you were. Of course, bubbles eventually popped, and this one was demolished by rustling outside Emily's office.

What little movement Emily allowed, her hands holding you firmly against the desk by your waist, was not enough to wriggle free and glance behind to see what was happening. Instead, the possibility of being caught weighed heavier with each drawled-out second.

"Emily," You tried but were cut off by a tongue sliding into your mouth. "Emily, stop."

With a bite to your lip, the older woman backed off, confusion marking her features, "What is it?" she punctuated her question with a hard thrust.

"Someone's o-" another hard thrust. "Someone's outside."

Emily smiled, picking up her pace, forcing you to breathe so deep you felt your lungs expand.

"You'd better be quiet then."

Whatever protest you were about to give died in your throat when nails skirted up to your chest and dug painfully into your breast, and Emily pushed herself so deep within you that you felt her hitting your cervix. A strangled cry was briefly heard before you managed to clasp your hand over your lips and silence your own mewls. She was fucking you as if her life depended on getting a reaction out of you that would draw attention. Nevertheless, you held firm and stayed as quiet as your muffled sobs would allow you to be.

"Emily, please," you were pleading for release and for the brutal fucking stop because you knew there would be no chance you could keep a lid on your volume; there would also be no chance you would survive not cumming.

Taking note of this, the older woman took the route of giving you your release, dragging a thumb down over your clit and applying the right amount of pressure to have your tense legs turn into a shaky mess of tremors. She didn't stop there; with a brief slide, she ran your slick over your bundle of nerves and started to circle steadily.

"Fuck!" You screamed out, missing the way the ruffling outside suddenly stopped. "I'm cumming. I'm cumming."

"That's it," the brunette encouraged, her fingers coming up to crook and tangle through the mussed mess of your hair, nails slowly working against your scalp. "Let everyone hear what a slut you are, letting me fuck you over my desk."

She didn't stop, though, not when your clit felt raw and your pussy tender, not when you begged and not even when you reached out and tried to grab her wrist. Emily only yanked you down by your hair, relishing the thud the brutal move made. She fucked you harder till stationary fell to the floor from your thrashing arms, and by then, her lips were already wrapped around a nipple, sucking firm whilst you cried through a second orgasm.

When you finally felt empty, you didn't even try to open your eyes. You knew your vision would be blurred if not blacked out. Instead, you focussed on coming back down to earth, steading your breath and not thinking about how you strangely missed being filled by Emily despite being so fucking sore.

"Are you still alive?" a smug voice asked from above, and you pried your bleary eyes open to weakly smile.

"I think so," you whispered, peeling your sweat-slick back from the desk. That was when you remembered the unknown personnel outside and shot a look at the door.

"They're gone," Emily said, cupping your chin and turning you back to her. Again, you were greeted by that conniving smirk. "After your commentary, I think they understood we didn't want to be disturbed."

"But-"

"Uh-uh." she silenced you with a finger to your lips, the smell of yourself still narrowly fragrant. You took the digit into your mouth, patting yourself on the back as you watched Emily's eyes turn dark. "You want to make Mommy feel good now, don't you?" She knew the answer, but oh, how she loved to watch you sink to your knees and eagerly nod anyway. You helped unclasp the straps of her harness, then set to pealing the last barrier keeping you from her heat down her legs.

"My good little pet," she said, smiling down at you and happily watching you beam. Her hand cupped your jaw before moving to the back of your neck, where she pulled you to her core and began singing a melody of moans.

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ldrfanatic · 7 months ago

Text

this happens once every few lifetimes

mattheo riddle x reader

synopsis - reader transfers to hogwarts from ilvermorny. she and mattheo fall in love with each other at first sight.

warnings - none, i think?

listened to while writing - the alchemy by taylor swift

i have a clara bow theo one in the works right now that i'm excited to drop at some point. ngl this gif of benjamin in deadly class inspired this idea A LOT.

part two?

slytherin boys works

you waited with baited breath outside of the great hall.

any moment now the doors would swing open and albus dumbledore, who you knew only through legend, would announce your transfer to hogwarts.

it was terrifying honestly. leaving ilvermorny was indescribably difficult. but when your father got a job opportunity at the british ministry of magic, it was decided. already you were feeling overwhelmed. you'd done your research but hogwarts was much larger than ilvermorny. it was much older as well, and thus had gained a reputation over a thousand years of producing some of the greatest witches and wizards the world has ever seen.

the large magnificent doors opened and every pair of eyes was on you.

you walked forward with sweaty palms, subtly attempting to dry them on your plain, black hogwarts robes. another change. the wardrobe was much more strict here than back in america. and where every student at ilvermorny wore the same blue and gold, students at hogwarts wore colors representative of their house.

finally, you reached the end of the walkway and stood face to face with a dusty and rather ancient looking hat. to your light surprise, it spoke. a woman whom you'd met briefly beforehand, professor mcgonnagall, picked up the hat gently and motioned for you to sit on the stool.

it was time to be sorted into one of hogwarts four houses. you'd been in wampus, the house of the warrior, at ilvermorny, and despite hours of research, you couldn't distinguish what the hogwarts equivalent would be. all four houses seemed to be good choices but there was one in particular that stood out to you.

no shorter or longer than exactly fifteen seconds after the sorting hat touched your head, a declaration was made.

"slytherin!"

an older student in green robes gestured you over to the table on the far right. not wanting to sit at the very front and continue to be gawked at, you briskly walked a little further down and took a seat at the middle of the table.

once you'd taken your seat, dumbledore began to explain that hogwarts would be hosting the triwizard tournament this year. after a flashy introduction from beauxbatons and durmstrang, you effectively decided that you were not the most interesting shiny new toy at hogwarts this year and silently thanked the universe for this turn of events.

at last, it was announced that you could eat and the tables filled with food. all around you students' plates began magically creating complex dishes. there were even some dinners that held food that you were sure you couldn't see anywhere on the table.

frustrated, you stared down at your empty plate. it was a long journey to hogwarts. you were hungry and quite frankly tired of things being so different. if one more complicated situation made its appearance at this school, you were undoubtedly going to lose it.

"just think about a food you really want to eat. it can be anything."

a boy next to you with brown hair and bright blue eyes leaned over. a thick italian accent levied on his deep voice.

you closed your eyes and thought about a delicious juicy cheeseburger with golden-crisp french fries. sure enough, when you opened your eyes, your plate had filled with food.

absolutely giddy with glee, you turned to thank the mystery man.

"no problem. i'm theodore nott. this is draco malfoy next to me."

the platinum blonde boy didn't even look up to acknowledge your existence. theodore, seemingly sensing your mild displeasure, spoke up.

"don't mind him. welcome to slytherin house. riddle, say hello to our newest recruit."

the dark haired boy directly across from you who you assumed was 'riddle' did in fact look over from his conversation with a boy with a chestnut colored complexion. yet, when your eyes found his, he didn't say hello.

he didn't say anything actually. he just sort of stared. as you held eye contact, it was like lightning running through your veins and sizzling at your fingertips.

for a moment, you wondered if he'd ever seen a person before.

then, as if he'd snapped out of a daze, a gentle smile played at his lips. dark curls fell over his brown eyes that seemed to sparkle the longer you looked at them.

his large hand crept over the table until it was outstretched towards you with a kind smile.

"mattheo."

you shook his hand with a shy smile. mattheo was currently looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered. in fact, your little interaction had gone on so long that theodore and the boy mattheo had been speaking with had both strucken up conversation with other students at the table.

"y/n."

mattheo eyed your appearance. his gaze flickered across your face, then to your hair, and all over the parts of your body he could see.

"sorry if this is a little awkward, but i can't remember the last time i was this captivated by someone." mattheo finally released your hand and you had to stop yourself from begging him not to.

"welcome to slytherin house. you're in the snake's nest now, beautiful."

---

7.8.2024

#slytherin boys #slytherin #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle

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gatorbites-imagines · 26 days ago

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Please, please, I'll do whatever you want, just more yautja

Male Elder Yautja OC (Ge'jaar) x male reader

Ficlet

I still don’t really know a whole lot of the yautja lore, but I love them anyways. So, heres me cooking up an oc and hoping it’s somewhat canon because I love yautja and will take any excuse to write about them. Readers somewhat based off of an oc of mine. Reader is also around 6ft 5 inches. Ge'jaar is 9ft or so.

Bako really grew on me for some reason when I wrote this, so lemme know if you guys wanna read about him.

You were old. Very old. You hadn’t kept much track of just how old you were, it didn’t really matter, but you only appeared to be in the 50s or very good 60s. You knew you were a lot older than that, having spent at least 100 years away from earth, hunting. You had returned though, at some point, and settled down in a very defensible cabin far away from much of everything, where you could live in peace with your “dogs”.

Well, you called them dogs, mainly because they walked on all fours and had a tail they’d wag, and followed orders. An ex of yours had called them Kiande amedha, you just called them xenomorphs, or your beetle dogs. Years ago, back when you had successfully killed the bad bloods that kidnapped you and your military unit, you had found this little ugly hissing creature. There was a stereotype that humans would bond with most near anything, and they were right.

You brought the little bugger along on the ship you stole from the now dead bad bloods, which took a long time to figure out how to steer. You named your pet Lucky, and you would later learn she was female. Strangely enough, she seemed to follow you as if you were the queen and not her, so it was all fine. Even if she and her first offspring did kill your ex when he tried to hit and control you. One of her offspring lost a leg in that fight, so obviously his name would be tripod.

Luckily for you, sweet little Lucky didn’t breed like other of her kind. Over the years shed only had about 50 offspring, whom she seemed to raise in the same way you remembered earth dogs would do it, sometimes making you wonder if she was some kind of crossbreed. Having 50 kiande amedha though, made you very dangerous in the eyes of your ex’s species, especially when they learned you controlled them.

Joining the hunt hadn’t been something you had outright planned to do. Or getting juiced up with whatever weird drugs and inventions the clans you were friendly with cooked up. That was why you grew so much taller, and aged so slowly.

Ge'jaar wasn’t part of one of the clans you fought alongside. You two actually met, when a group of young bloods tried to hunt your beetle dogs. Apparently, they thought you would be an easy target, being an ooman and all. Of course, you made sure to show them you weren’t. they successfully killed one of your pets, a spunky one named Hoover because he ate everything. And like any hunter worth their salt, you needed revenge.

It led to some political struggles and conversations between clan elders, since you were pretty much a part of that one specific clan now after so many hunts together.

Ge'jaar wasn’t the leader of his clan, but still counted as an elder. He was handsome, in his own, scaley way. His skin was white and covered in the same dark splotching as all yautja seemed to carry. He wore a lot of the same clothing as most yautja did, and would later on wear a cape you made from the hide of a beast you had hunted.

In the end, Ge'jaar went as far as to apologize and repay you for the dead “hunting hound”. Bako, one of the males from your apparent clan, would later tell you it was because Ge'jaar wanted to fuck you. You were still very salty about Hoover though, so you acted quite nasty and confrontational with Ge'jaar and his clan for a good chunk of years.

The cape Ge'jaar would start to wear, hadn’t even been a gift in your mind. For some reason the elder yautja had followed along for one of your solo hunts, in Bakos words “going on a date” with you. And yes, Ge'jaar was very impressive to watch fight, he was very big and broad, alright? The creatures purple blood sprayed all over his white skin also didn’t help.

You couldn’t even remember what you had said to him, but it must have been some threat or curse as you threw the creatures skin at him, since you only wanted the meat and bones. It made no sense to you at the time why Ge'jaar started wearing the fur, and you hadn’t wanted to ask Bako since the guy had just started cackling at you when he saw it.

It was only years later when you had settled back down on earth, that it really seemed to register to you that Ge'jaar was trying to charm you, in his own yautja way. Still feeling so angry about Hoovers death, even if Ge'jaar himself didn’t do it, you took all the hunting and dead creatures by your ship and hut as a threat or challenge. All the jewelry and armor as harder to explain, and you still had the book about yautja mythology somewhere on your shelf.

At that point, you had just assumed Ge'jaar moved on, since you hadn’t seen him in so long. The only yautja you truly spoke much too nowadays was Bako and those from his clan. And of course, the ones that still owed you favors, just to remind them you were still alive to cash in on it.

You had just returned from one of your trips to the nearest large city, a trip that took you almost two weeks since everything was far away, when you saw him again. Or rather, one of your beetle dogs saw him, a young one named Blue, since his dome of a head reflected blue more than the rest.

Blue had been born, laid? On earth, and had seen very little true combat, so you assumed that was why he was the friendliest of them all. Where most of Lucky’s offspring that had known space and combat stuck to the shadows and settled in the cave system near your cabin, Blue was a real lapdog.

Friendly enough it seemed, to just accept an intruder in your home. Stepping out of your truck, Blue trotted out of your cabin door, which was wide open, looking as happy as a clam with dried meat in his maw. There was a feeling in the air that you weren’t alone, so grabbing at your beloved weapon of choice, you were about to fall back into old habits.

That was until Ge'jaar of all people, stepped out of your cabin, wearing one of your shirts. Well, trying to wear one of your shirts. It was one of the largest shirts you owned, old and worn with some odd shape on the front that might have been a logo once.

The elder yautja looked very comfortable, right at home honestly, his dreadlocks pulled into a bun on the back of his large head, and a damn sleeve of cookies in his massive hand. The confusion must have been so clear on your face, as the retired hunter chittered and laughed, moving closer to help you lug stuff back into your cabin and into your massive basement.

The confusion was strong enough that you just kinda went along with it, moving everything from your large truck and away from sight until you needed it. It was only after you both sat down on the couch that you took notice of the minor changes to your home, it looked very much like Ge'jaar had just moved himself in.

You could have smacked him right then and there, maybe cut all his dreadlocks off and made him swallow his mandibles, but somehow the massive scarred yautja made himself look so innocent and borderline lovable.

Blue, the little fucker, just got comfortable on a large fur Ge'jaar had laid out across the floor, tail whipping all over and knocking trinkets off your coffee table. The little traitor, you knew you spoiled him too much.

It took a lot of explanation from Ge'jaar, and you had a feeling if you hadn’t lived amongst his people for so long you might have lost it, but apparently Ge'jaar had made some plea to his clan leader, and yours since apparently you still counted as one of those, and you two were pretty much married without your approval.

Well, or so you would say, but all your guy’s “dates” and all the “gifts” you passed between you counted as courting. You settling down back on earth just appeared to be retirement in their eyes. It wasn’t like you still hated Ge'jaar, you never really had thinking back, it just… came as quite a surprise.

Ge'jaar still kept on courting you, even when you fed most of the things he caught to Lucky and her offspring. The elder yautja took your claim that Lucky was your child to heart, clicking and purring when she, and by extent her offspring, finally accepted his presence.

Time was a true blur out in the mountains, you only really noticed it by the seasons passing and you needing to go back into town two or three times a year to stock back up. But soon enough Ge'jaar was part of your life, and yes, you still snipped and bit at him sometimes, but this time it was meant as flirting.

Your mate, since that’s what you guys were now, was so patient and seemed to find your human nature endearing enough to pick up on some of it himself. It still felt very weird to be given flowers by a seasoned hunter like Ge'jaar, or to walk in on him watching Gilmore girls with Blue draped across his lap, but you got used to it.

It was probably best that you and Ge'jaar were the ones to get together, since he was older, had already had all the offspring he wanted. The yautja was also confident enough in himself that he didn’t get jealous the same way your ex had. Ge'jaar was hot and he knew this even in his fluffy robe and slippers, though you couldn’t help but miss him in his netting and weapons at times.

It turned out to be a lot more comfortable than you had thought to retire, with your mate who had to be hundreds of years older than you, and your many, many beetle dogs. There were times you debated on going out for a hunt again, as a date, for old times sake, but that was something you would need to discuss with Ge'jaar first.

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dyns33 · 10 months ago

Text

Family honor

So Alfie x Y/N Shelby wife will be a little series now

There were several differences between a Gypsy wedding and a Jewish wedding.

The most obvious being that gypsy marriage was not recognized by anyone except gypsies.

But if it wasn't celebrated, you could walk past a priest, a rabbi, an imam or the fucking King himself, to live for years with the same person, under the same roof, with children, that would not have the slightest importance for the gypsies.

Alfie Solomons muttered several times that none of this was kosher, but he respected all the rites and traditions of Y/N's family. Even drinking alcohol, he who hated having a foggy mind.

"Already quite foggy the rest of the time, love. But if your savages of brothers insist…"

“The savages insist.” John said, giving him a whole bottle of whiskey.

“I can’t believe this asshole is going to become one of us.”

"Oh, Arthur, I'm touched that you accept me so quickly into your heart."

It took several people besides Tommy and Y/N to stop them from killing each other, when they were completely drunk.

Then they insisted on walking together in the horse field, the older Shelby brother ending up giving his blessing before falling asleep under a tree, making it clear that he would slit Alfie's throat if he did not treat his beloved little sister correctly.

The wandering jew left him to return with the others, who were dancing and singing. A perfect wedding, completely normal.

If he was offended when Y/N told him that the Jewish marriage was practically the same, he didn't show it, just made a strange sound with his nose.

There may have been less alcohol, and it was legally recognized, but the rest was a gathering of a lot of loud people, not speaking English, jumping around and congratulating them on their union.

Y/N, however, quickly noticed the biggest difference between gypsy marriage and Jewish marriage.

Although they had been a little surprised and worried by her choice of husband, her family had decided to give a chance to Alfie Solomons, whom they judged solely because of his actions. The rest didn't matter in the slightest.

With the Camden community, it wasn’t so simple.

“Your lovely wife is going to convert ?” an old woman asked, although it sounded more like an order than a question.

"Ah, frau Aldermann. It is true that I am such a pious man myself, it is a very important subject that my wife and I have talked about a lot. Isn't that right, treacle ?"

“Good, good.” sighed a man, patting his shoulder, not seeming to understand Alfie's sarcasm. "This is very important, especially for such an admired member. Perhaps your mother was of Jewish parentage ?"

She could have replied that she had not really known her mother, and therefore even less her family, but her husband saved her from this discussion, which he considered ridiculous, by inviting her to dance.

A true act of love, for him who hated dancing, in addition to suffering terribly because of his back.

It didn't take long for her entire family tree to be dissected in every way. The old harpies of Camden were like all the harpies of London.

The fact that she couldn't answer their question was almost a good thing. This mystery made it possible to say that if we could not verify that she was Jewish through her mother, we could not verify that she was not either. And everything always went through the mother.

The deplorable past of her father and the Shelby family could then have been forgotten.

The problem was mainly that her mother was not Mr. Arthur Shelby Sr. wife, which made Y/N a bastard. A gypsy bastard at that.

Even when she didn't understand the language, she guessed that people were talking about her. These looks and these laughter, she knew them well. Her brothers had suffered them when they were younger, before they used their fists to silence the ignorant and conquer Birmingham.

But she wasn't in Birmingham. Her brothers were not there, and it was her husband's kingdom.

Alfie wasn't the last to comment on gypsies.

"You know, I expected to have to sleep in a caravan for our honeymoon. It would have been terrible for my back, I don't know if Thomas took pity on us or if his petty posh side is to be thanked."

“They had a tent for us, but Finn threw up in it.”

"Fuck off, love. You're kidding me !"

“Then we would have danced naked around a fire asking the moon to give us happiness, health and above all a lot of fucking money.”

"… Yeah, you're totally kidding me, you little rascal." Alfie said, mock irritated, pulling her in for a kiss.

He didn't seem to notice that every little word spoken against her family and their traditions was beginning to weigh on her.

At least it was never completely mean when it was him. Almost innocent, full of prejudice and stupidity, but not crossing certain limits.

The rest of the community was not so kind. Many had not appreciated that the King of Camden, such a prized party, war hero, respected gangster, charming man, ended up with a girl like her. It must have been business, blackmail, or black magic.

There was no other possible explanation.

For several months, she decided to be the reasonable adult, remaining calm and polite, taking the blows as best she could. Tommy had taught her how to do it.

He had also taught her the pride of gypsies. Honor.

So there came a day when she was walking through the bakery, and some of the employees made a little joke about stealing and fortune telling, laughing like the idiots they were.

Normally, she would have ignored him. But Y/N was exhausted, and Polly's voice repeated in her head that no Shelby would ever allow themselves to be treated like this, so before they had time to react, she grabbed the hair of one of them, placing a knife to his throat.

"Tell me another joke about gypsies. Then I'll tell you a joke about Jews. Then I'll kill you."

The boy squealed, calling to his colleagues for help with his big, frightening eyes, but no one dared to move. Because they knew she would go faster. And even if she wasn't moving fast enough, she was Tommy Shelby's sister and Alfie Solomons' wife. Literally untouchable.

"Come on." she whispered in his ear. "Make me laugh. No ? No more jokes ? You're going to play the victim. It's funny, people who complain about being mistreated, then do exactly the same thing to others while thinking they're superior. You're all the same."

She didn't comment on the puddle under his legs, nor the little cry of panic when she released him.

Everyone stood still, watching her leave, and when she met Ollie's gaze, she knew she had just made a mistake. She only proved that she was indeed the savage they all described, the bad person.

Alfie probably wouldn't be happy when his right hand man told him what happened.

He did indeed seem to be in a terrible mood when she found him waiting for her in the living room, sunk into the sofa, indicating that his back was hurting badly, but that he would refuse to talk about it.

"Come, love, have a sit. Come on, sit down here."

Not wanting to act like a child, she remained silent as she took a seat in the chair he indicated to her.

This was obviously not what he expected, because he didn't speak either, staring at her intensely, hands crossed, displaying a small pout.

“Do you want to tell me what happened at the bakery today ?”

“Why ask if you already know ?”

“I would like your version.”

"I threatened to slit the throat of one of your workers and disrupted production. Do you want to spank me ?"

"Tempting. Why did you want to slit his throat ?"

“Unimportant.”

"Unimportant, uh ? Unimportant, love ? Because Ollie came to tell me that some guys were talking bad about me wife."

Groaning slightly, Alfie stood up just enough to push a piece of paper and pencil in her direction onto the table between them.

"Names."

“Alfie…”

"I want the names, treacle. I've already gone around the bakery telling everyone that insulting me wife and her family was insulting me, and I don't like being insulted. Names."

“You always make fun of gypsies.”

"Wrong." he retorted, holding up a finger as if that proved his point. "I do it when your brothers are around, because Thomas can be a little prick, and it's hilarious to see Arthur react like a mad dog. But I have nothing against gypsies. Lovely people. The proof, look at you. And look at me. The two most wonderful creatures our communities could spawn, right ?"

Despite all her strength, Y/N couldn't help but smile, which seemed to please her husband. He then placed his victorious finger on the paper, insisting on names.

If she had shown mercy by not cutting, this would not be the case with the wandering jew, king of Camden Town.

No one insulted his wife. No one looked at his wife badly, no one criticized her, no one tried to take away from her, no one thought of her with bad thoughts.

“Not even you ?” Y/N asked with a mischievous smile.

"Not at all. Now you brought up spanking. You brought it up first, love, not me."

“My brothers would be furious to hear that you beat me.”

"Don't tempt me, I can spread false rumors all the way to Birmingham just for the thrill of them all running here, and finding us…"

“You’re the one who deserves a spanking.”

"Ungrateful wife. Threatening me, under my own roof, when my back is killing me and I have just condemned half the city for the love of her."

The Shelbys never knew about their sister's difficult first months in Camden. Tommy noticed that he seemed to be treated with a little more respect when he walked the streets, but neither Y/N nor Alfie talked about what had happened before this outpouring of acceptance from the community.

On the other hand, Arthur noticed marks on his little sister's neck, and he tried to strangle Alfie, even after realizing that it wasn't what he thought, because it wasn't really better for him.

And Solomons reminding him that he was his brother-in-law didn't help at all.

#peaky blinders #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons fanfiction #shelby reader

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jeanmoreautemple · 6 months ago

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Thea Muldani: a rant

I feel weird about Thea but I can’t really put into words exactly why? So I’m writing down some things I’ve thought.

I honestly didn’t think much about her before TSC, like she was okay (I wish she’d been introduced earlier tho or that she hadn’t graduated already so she was a recurrent Raven player or something).

After reading the extra content I wasn’t bothered about the age gap between her and Kevin but yes a little bit about the fact that Kevin was fourteen when they first met + the -you fuck like a virgin, maybe some practice will make you better at it- comment that Nora included. It was uuhh weird but the rest of the Kevthea story was okay, and Thea is 100% not a groomer. Plus, Nora technically deleted the extra content so in theory nothing there is canon yet.

Now in TSC we get her sole appearance in TKM from Jean’s POV, who has known her since he was fourteen (like Kevin- this is important to keep in mind). The scene starts out cute! We find out she took him under her wing and even had nicknames for him like Paris and her little duckling🥰. So the fourteen year boy that just arrived from france with broken English looked up to her, Thea was ~21 at this point.

We know Jean is going through HELL during this time:

And we also know the Moriyamas were always particularly cruel with Jean, getting more physical him than with Kevin. Even though It’s said that Riko would torture Jean and Kevin (broken hand incident) in private, hence the other Ravens not knowing the whole picture, how can a fourteen year old kid hide such pain? But apparently , as we later find out, Thea was too deep into the Evermore raven cult mindset that she didn’t find anything strange about the coach and Rikk’s behavior towards Jean.

At 15 Jean is given a number and place in the perfect court, but only at 16 joins the lineup. He gets a lot of hate, especially from the other defensemen, whom Thea works with:

Although the Ravens are know for being extremely violent training, at least in the court Thea must have noticed that the defense line were especially brutal to Jean. Or SOMETHING.

But here comes the worst part: during this same year Riko forces Jean to sleep with 5 defensemen. By the time Jean is a junior most of these have graduated which means they were 20 or older. So Thea had been playing with each of these guys for at least 2 years (except for Grayson), she knew them.

They went on to joke and talk about the whole ordeal as Jean paying for his perfect court number. Thea also being in the defense line could have heard all of this first hand, we don’t know. But It’s so widely talked about that it reaches Tetsuji and we do know Thea witnessed Jean’s punishment:

Coincidentally Thea starts a sexual and emotional relationship with Kevin this year (it’s her last too).

So here’s the part that made me dislike Thea very much. In TKM she goes to Kevin demanding answers, Kevin then brings her to Jean, who is looking like this:

It’s been three years since she graduated but she’s still wearing her Raven number in a necklace, and when she sees Jean’s state in TSC she comments how if Kevin hadn’t said anything she’d think it normal:

By now it’s clear she at 26 is still 100% brainwashed, but this next line of hers cemented it:

YOUR OLD TRICKS ?!

So let’s break that down:

1. The immigrant kid (16!) she watched over for two years from age 14 to 16 suddenly starts having sex with members of HER (23!) defense line who are all around her age and openly hate him for 5 consecutive nights and she doesn’t suspect anything?

2. Said defensemen then brag and shame Jean afterwards calling him a whore, which leads to Jean getting beaten half to dead by their coach and still nothing?

3. Years later she recalls the incident as Jean being up to his little tricks and being rightfully beaten to a pulp?!!!!

I can’t. I know she’s also a cult victim but no. It was super common for Ravens to have hate sex with each other but her being close to Kevin (and somewhat Jean) during the time Jean’s (a 16 year old!) assaults were happening and still remaining this clueless… I’m sure she must be lovable for both Kevin and Jean to respect and care for her so much but her one scene convinced me she’s way too deep into the Raven spirit and her presence around Kevin and Jean would be just so harmful.

But I have to give credit when it’s due, apparently after some hours with Kevin and 7 years later she believes her King broke Kevin’s hand:

In conclusion:

Thea is absolutely no groomer but if one takes a look at her attitude towards Jean’s sexual history when he was 16 and how her relationship with Kevin was happening simultaneously, her you fuck like a virgin, maybe some practice will make you better at it and tell me you weren’t up to your old tricks comment combo, it all makes me dislike her. Cause you’d think someone who at 22-23 was dating a boy who had just turned legal would be careful or mature enough to choose her wording better when talking about the sexual activity between a boy close in age to her own boyfriend with people around HER age, but nope. The fact that Kevin married her, has a child and lives happily ever after with her seems unbelievable to me.

PS: Her and Kevin’s (we don’t know if he believes Riko) apparent ignorance or lack of suspicion of Jean’s freshman year assault was the most hurtful part of TSC tbh (not counting Elodie). Imagine having the closest people to you misunderstand/ believe lies about such a traumatic event. I guess this is why Nora didn’t include a Andrew POV, I would have died or wanted to kill Nicky and Aaron for not looking deeper into Andrew’s attitude.

#jean moreau #the sunshine court #kevin day #aftg #all for the game #the foxhole court #tsc #Thea Muldani #analysis #my mind

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sarahreesbrennan · 4 months ago

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Another Interesting Spoilery Evil Question

To directly answer the question before I start rambling, the Cobra’s body’s physical age is 24.

(You can stop reading here if you like. This gets very long!)

When Marius meets the Cobra (chapter 18 epigraph from Time of Iron) he correctly identifies him as Marius’s own age at the time - 18.

At the time of the book all the physical bodies’ ages are as follows.

Marius - 24

The Cobra - 24

Rahela - 24

Octavian - 24

(Pio and Nemeth, Octavian’s advisers, are in their early 40s and late 50s respectively - they’re Octavian’s dad’s people and that is part of why they are so stressed. Their king died young, Octavian became king in his teens and it has been an uneasy court ever since.)

Emer - 23

Key - 20

Lia - 19

Rae and Eric in our world were both 4 years younger than their bodies in this world (so they would both be 20 if the story hadn’t happened to them). For the moment we’ll leave aside Key, who had another life too, in a different way. (He was a little kid, but old enough to walk after his father, in the epigraph from Time of Iron in chapter 15.)

I do age shenanigans for two reasons.

—One is that age in fiction and reality is weird, and I wanted to portray that. If I had a crush on Mr Darcy when I was 7, is that okay? If I had a crush on Mr Darcy when aged 41, is that okay? Mr Darcy’s always in his late twenties: Elizabeth Bennet will never be older than 21, but she seemed so glamorous and all-knowing to me when I was a kid.

And if you walk into a story, when in their character development do you find them? Would we like Darcy when he’s sneering at Elizabeth at a ball? Who is it that we love and when?

Plenty of adult women fancied Edward Cullen, perpetually a teen (or was he? Fantasy and horror also open up the possibility of immortality - but in a way, all fictional characters are immortal. Holden Caulfield isn’t growing up any more than Edward Cullen is. And like fictional characters and immortals, the dead aren’t getting any older either—I think often of Anne Rice, author of the Vampire Chronicles, who wrote the doomed child vampire Claudia after losing her own daughter Michele as a child. Death, immortality, fiction and the overlap!) When I read or watched stories in which characters were in different/changed bodies they usually seemed younger - often their younger selves, or a younger/cuter body (Peggy Sue Got Married, Scarlet Heart). (Exceptions exist of course, e.g. Howl’s Moving Castle.) And I like magic losing something, costing you something, plus I’m a contrarian. So I wanted them older.

—The other is that LONG LIVE EVIL is a story about trauma, which often arrests your age in your mind. The period in which you were enduring the horrors is a blank in which you couldn’t develop normally, or in which you had plenty of experiences but few of them match with your peers’.

Cancer did it to me, which wasn’t horrendous as I was in my early 30s and that’s still adult, just meant a bit of ‘oh no I’m not this child’s mother, I’m too young - actually I’m a bit old to be this child’s mother now I think about it, but anyway I don’t claim her’ and the like. But I’ve seen it do the same for people with cancer I befriended or whom I mentor, and it’s a very different proposition if the lost years are 17-21.

It’s not just cancer, I’ve seen bereavement work that way on people, and apparently celebrity works on the mind like trauma and arrests you at the age you became famous in a lot of ways. It’s being taken out of the run of ordinary life, walking through your portal into strangeness.

But in the end most of us wind up with years that feel lost, I think, and playing catch-up is the only way forward.

And allegory remains allegory: if I’m writing a werewolf I’m taking about rage and body horror, sure, but I’m also talking about werewolves.

I was actually confused by this ask at first as I’d written a whole section where Eric says he’s going to die of a heart attack at 20 and Marius is exasperated as Eric is a little young to start lying about his age! But it must have fallen victim to my many cuts - stories transform! - and I can see why, because I don’t think Eric exactly thinks of himself as 20 anymore.

I had some struggles with the age stuff, it’s another layer of complication in a complicated story and there were worries raised that it was unnecessary and might make some characters less appealing but in the end I decided it was necessary to me and let the characters be unappealing, then.

I also enjoy the twisting, fluid ages because they cause conflict, and conflict is story.

Rae uses her new age (and thus doesn’t need to think of her absolutely horrible self worth) to count herself out as a romantic option in Key’s eyes.

She also thinks of the Emperor as in his mid-20s, as he is - after a time skip that happens in the original Time of Iron, years in which Key and Emer were Lia’s servants. She knows about those years, but she doesn’t put it together.

At Eric and Marius’s first meeting 6 years before the events of LONG LIVE EVIL, Eric also hasn’t been in the book that long. He was in a horrifically traumatic survival situation for a large part of the time he was inside, when he approached Marius to blackmail him. That is objectively a deranged thing to do, but Eric is thinking like a terrified 14 year old and also like a Huge Fan of Marius. aka the quintessential white knight, the Last Hope who is reserved and dignified and crucially, 24-28.

That would be the Marius Eric at the time knows when he approaches Marius in the flesh, Marius at 18 and coming off family trauma, friend trauma and quasi-romantic trauma himself. Marius actually DOES go into dissociative states and kill people, Eric was taking a huge risk with his own life that not a single person in the country would have taken. Marius is a Valerius, and they are killers. (The whole court, Marius included, thought Lady Katalin ((Rahela’s mother)) was being very daring by like, touching Marius’s hand when he was 17.)

Eric is acting wild partly because a) he is wild, b) he’s desperate but also crucially c) he’s thinking of Marius as someone that Marius isn’t yet and d) he’s not thinking of things from Marius’s POV, and doesn’t until the events of LONG LIVE EVIL. Their quasi friendship/quasi hostage situation (that the hostage had firmly decided was happening) couldn’t have happened without a perfect storm of weirdness, risks and lack of understanding what the hell was going on.

Marius would not have seen a 14 year old Eric (not a child to him exactly, but squire age rather than knight age) as a criminal threat in the same way as he saw the Cobra, his own age (18, which was definitely very adult, Marius thought at the time). Eric wouldn’t have failed to consider consequences or failed to consider Marius as person rather than character, if he’d actually been 18. But by the time anyone knew better, a status quo was established, and habit is second nature and a stronger nature than the first.

Eric’s plight is horrific initially. But at the same time, Eric is extremely intelligent (both intellectually and emotionally) and able to both cover and play catch-up to this new life, and he can advise Rae with the benefit of his experience - but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t screw up massively when he first came into the book, or that he doesn’t still have many things to work through.

Similarly, Emer is used to Rahela who is quasi older sister and quasi mistress, while Rae is now acting younger. And all of them are dealing with a gross system in which men are seen as in their youthful prime when women the same age are getting long in the tooth and can be traded in for teenagers - so even two people who are the same age aren’t treated as if they’re the same age, if they’re different genders. Age stuff is crunchy!

Also, while Emer thinks of Lia as having all the power due to class, Lia looks on someone who was her glamorous older stepsister’s age mate and went off to the big city years ago rather differently. But then, are adulthood and childhood different worlds? Is being in different social classes being in different worlds?

Can we reach the different universes of other people is something I’m always asking, I think.

THIS IS SO LONG. I AM SO SORRY.

#long live evil #pride and prejudice #twilight #ageism #portal fantasy #the golden cobra #marius valerius #emer ni domitia #king octavian #Rae parilla #key of the cauldron #Lia felice #prime minister pio #lle spoilers

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moutainrusing · 21 days ago

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younger

541 words, jegulus

His brother’s best friend treated him like a younger brother too. It was annoying, because Regulus already had one older brother whom he’d never even asked for in the first place. (Because when he was born, did he ever get the choice of the family he was born to? No.) He already had Sirius, and now James was teasing him in corridors and offering him left-over snacks and ruffling his hair as if they were also brothers, just because Sirius considered he and James to be brothers even when they weren’t related! Regulus was Sirius’s actual brother, and James was Sirius’s fake brother, which clearly meant that Regulus and James weren’t brothers! They didn’t even have to be friends.

It was awful, the way James would coo, “Aw, look at your little baby face!” when Regulus was only one year younger than him. Or he’d roll his eyes, “You wouldn’t understand, you’re too young,” and Regulus would fume internally, knocking over chairs within the room that was his body, raging about the way James Potter thought Regulus was his younger brother. It was disgusting.

Why did James have to so clearly clarify to Regulus, “I think of you in the same way that I’d think of anyone younger than me, you’re my responsibility,” and then he’d laugh too hard, and Regulus would think why? Did James have a hero complex? He always seemed to be reminding Regulus, “You’re younger than me,” even though they were both very aware of that fact.

What if Regulus was the same age as James? Would that make him act more normal? Regulus didn’t get it, and he got a lot of things, so this really irritated him: the fact that he couldn’t understand why it was such a big deal to James that they had an age difference of one year. He was fifteen, James was sixteen, what was the problem?

It was weird, to think that James would think of him as a younger brother. That felt like crossing a line somewhere in his mind, tangling thoughts that should never be tangled. Loud and clear, he wanted to yell at James, We’re not brothers! That would be weird, so why was James making things weird?

There were too many questions, and Regulus had no answers. All he knew was that the idea of James thinking of him as a younger brother twisted his gut in the most awkward way, made it push into his stomach like an unwanted invasion, like the blade of a knife twisting into him before freezing in place like an icicle, it was cold, the way James thought of him as an immature kid, it was swallowing ice cubes that turned his organs blue, it was injecting nitrogen into his veins and watching his blood bubble, hissing and steaming as warmth met glacial cold and evaporated away from him, he’d be bloodless, and James would think of him as a newborn baby, “Welcome to this world, Reggie!”

If that happened, it would drive an icepick through Regulus’s vocal cords and render him silent. James thought of him as a younger brother, and Regulus thought of James as… no one. No one, therefore James would never be able to affect him.

#marauders #regulus black #james potter #james x regulus #regulus x james #jegulus #jegulus fic #jegulus microfic #marauders microfic

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frostara · 29 days ago

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Challenges

Cregan Stark x Karstark!Female

Synopsis: It takes some time to get to know each other, and lots of words to understand.

Wordcount: 2k

Tags: characters miscommunicate at first, but overall fluff, Cregan is 17, Astrid is 15

Notes: Hi! This could be read as chapter 2 for this work, but does pretty well on its own. All thanks to one person who asked for a second part - I hope you'll like it </3 I wanted to describe Cregan and Astrid the way they are - youthful people, with their own beliefs that are sometimes wrong (Astrid is so silly I love her) and quick to change temper. I worked on this drabble a little harder and hopefully, it was worth it!

Winterfell was like a living being—always alert and ready, yet calm and composed. It thrived with the quiet bustle of its people, the rustle of dry bushes, and cold of its stone walls. A guarded place, where the only thing Astrid had to worry about was herself. At least for now.

One moon have passed since she was wed to the Lord of the Winterfell, and yet, she felt rather wary of him. Cregan, whom she called so yet in her mind, was always surrounded by either maister-at-arms or castellan, which left her seeking his attention that he could not give.

Though, Astrid would be forever ungrateful if said that she was entirely alone. She had grown quite fond of maester Alvin, an old grey-haired man, but skilled and cunning like no one. He often inquired after her well-being with genuine courtesy and shared his wise thoughts, for which she was forever grateful.

Yet the companionship of one old master could not fill the void of loneliness. Her handmaidens, taught to serve their lady quietly, rarely spoke unless adressed directly. To make them speak freely was a challenge, but one she welcomed.

"My Lady, Lord Cregan sent me to let it be known that he awaits you in Godswood, and I am to accompany You on Your way," said Ethel as she entered chambers after a gentle knock. She was a pretty girl, not much older than Astrid, and probably the one she was fond of.

"Right. Well then, let us not keep the Lord waiting," - Astrid replied, standing perhaps more quickly than intended, letting Ethel drape a warm cloak over her frame to shield her from wind in this chilly weather.

As they made their way, her nervousness spilled in questions she bothered Ethel with: "Was Lord in a good mood? Did he seem upset with anything? Was he alone?" She could swear on all Old Gods that Ethel was laughing at her, but skillfully maintained her composure. Though, Astrid was too nervous to pay attention to that, pressing on. Luckily, the walk was short, and soon they were able to see the red leaves that framed the massive tree. Ethel bowed and turned her back, leaving Astrid to herself.

She took a moment to steady herself before stepping closer to where Cregan stood. She felt cold seep through her body, making her shiver. Heart tree was there, proudly emracing everything with its branches as if hiding from the sky. He looked like a real Stark, in a place he was always supposed to be. And Astrid was just a huble guest, even if being his wife. Light wind was playing with his dark hair, moving leaves casting shadows on his stern face.

"My Lord wished to see me?"

He turned to face her, his black eyes softening slightly as a polite smile tugged at his lips. "I did. I wish to know how my Lady fares."

Cregan walked towards her, and it was only then that she noticed a crimson leaf he was holding in his hand. She returned his smile, though uncertain of what to say. He seemed to be unbothered by silence that layed between them, as he studied her appearance. During their wedding he barely payed attention to her. Perhaps, that was why he was observing her so carefully now.

"I am very happy to be here," - Astrid nodded to her words, as if to make sure he believed her. "Winterfell does not cease to amaze me."

Cregan hummed to himself, not really putting his mind to her words. He seemed lost in thoughts, and these thoughts were far away from here. Far from her. She felt subtle sting in her when she thought of it. Why did he call her, if he still did not care about her being?

He was still holding the leaf in his callused hands, twirling it with his fingers when he brought it to her, putting it in her braided hair.

"Red suits you well. Has anyone told you that before?"

He murmured, seeming to be pleased with his work, running his fingers along her braid, his lingering touch leaving Astrid speechless. Her eyes widened as she tried to hide her confusion. He was gentle, almost reverent, and it warmed her heart in a way she never felt before. Was this the first time he truly saw her as a wife?

"No, my Lord. I believe you are the first to notice."

Cregan took his hand away from her hair, offering his elbow for her to grab. "Very well. Let us walk, I would not wish for you to get cold while standing here," - as he put his hand on his sword.

Astrid hesitated a moment before wrapping her fingers around his clothed arm, feeling the soft fur and fabric of his cloack, contrasting with his cold and rough to touch sword, accepting the offer. It pleased her more than she cared to admit to spend time with him in the godswood, a sacred place. Though it was still a mystery to her, what made him be so attentive to her today?

It was very quiet there, only rare birds chirping and leaves rustle could be heard. Astrid took a deep breath, enjoying frosty and fresh air that smelled of wood and earth. She found this moment very peaceful, this walk was a sweet gesture and it was not nice of her to doubt her husbands kindness.

"I have been thinking about our marriage," Cregan began after a while. "It seems to me that I have not fulfilled my duties to you. For this, I ask your understanding, and, perhaps, your forgiveness."

Cregan turned his gaze to her, awaiting what she has to say. She was now taken aback by his words. A suspicious thought was starting to form in her head - his previous behaviour could not be judged, it fitted his position. But these gentle words now were not sounding like the ones he would actually say. An odd feeling took place in her, yet, she could only listen to him right now.

"It is no secret to me how tiring your position may be," she started carefully. "And I could never hold it against you."

She studied his face, searching for any sign of anger or discomfort. Yet a gnawing curiosity urged her to push further. Astrid evased any other words from him, now being curious to get an answer for her thoughts:

"My Lord, if I may ask, did someone suggest that you speak to me like that?" - she stopped, making her husband follow her action, now facing each other. He was confused, and he could not hide that, making it obvious he was not prepared for such confrontation. Astrid believed there was also a hint of irritation in his expression.

"In what way are you implying this?" he asked, his tone guarded but lacking the harshness she feared.

Cregan even forgot to adress her properly. It made Astrid smile ever so slightly, now making her scared that she could offend him with her words.

"Do not misunderstand me, my Lord, but your actions are...rather opposing your character, which makes me suggest that you might have sought an advice about our relationship from someone."

She tried her best to sound friendly and not too arrogant, but confused look on his face eased her worries - he probably could not be angry with her now, that he looked so amusing. Astrid awaited patiently, when he finally spoke up.

"First of all, do not jest with me in such a way," he replied, his voice firm but lacking true anger. "I may be your husband, but my behavior is none of yours to question."

He glanced away, looking in direction of a bird that landed on a low-hanging branch nearby. The pause gave Astrid a moment to collect herself, and she only smiled at her thoughts, now being more confident to continue.

"Forgive me," her tone sincere. "I only wanted to make sure I understood the situation well." She reached out, lightly tugging on his sleeve to draw his attention back to her. The gesture startled him, and instinctively, he caught her hand in his. For a moment, they stood frozen, her smaller hand caught in his. He did not let go, and his grip, though firm, was not harsh.

Wind sent another gust as couple of bright red leaves fell from tree, falling at their legs. Laying onthe ground, they could be mistaken for small pools of blood. It sent a shiver down Astrid's spine, the movement was visible for Cregan. It made him snap from frozen state as he let her hand hung in the air, bringing his own to his sword, slight embarrasment from an intimate moment made him cough, as if to shift their attention away.

But Astrid still was confused. Was she right then? Perhaps, her behaviour made it impossible for her Lord to seek her company? She felt nervousness fill her heart once again, making her clasp her hands together on stomach, as if trying to calm herself down.

"Maester Alvin is someone you could consider guilty," Cregan's voice cut through silence, breaking the formed pause.

"Though, I believe, his intentions were kind."

"Should I be grateful for it then?" she bit on her inner cheeck, fidgeting with cold fingers. Astrid felt emarrased: she probably looked so stupid right now; her concern made her act very rude, or atleast, that is what she believed.

"You could at least try to not to be mad at me."

He rubbed the back of his neck, as if looking for the right words. The situation they currently trapped themselves in was quite awkward. Astrid hummed softly at his words in an attemp to answer, but words would get stuck in her throat.

"I am not mad, my Lord" - it was all she could mutter, before quickly facing him away. She was definetly not acting like a modest lady right now. But who was to blame for that?

"Cregan."

Astrid blinked, turning her head back at her husband.

"Call me by my name. You are my wife, you have such right." He shrugged, an unsure smile tugging at his lips.

This time, he held out his hand to her.

"I believe we will have many days to continue this argument, if you wish that," she took his hand, now holding it gently, but with a firm grip, returning his favour as she unconsciously smiled herself.

"But we had spent more than we should have time here. Let us head back to castle, before anyone starts looking for us."

Their way back was more pleasant, as the silence that followed them was now a welcomed one, sometimes interrupted with quiet laughter.

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nczennie · 3 months ago

Text

it's ok if it hurts.

Pairing: Reader & Stray Kid's Hyunjin AU: Historical, Royalty Genre: Angst Preview: Hyunjin was always a romantic. Maybe that's why the second he found love he left you for dead. Words: 3.8k *warnings undercut

WARNINGS: Death, mentions of blood, mentions of sexual harassment

You've come to find out that you learn a lot of things growing up in a palace.

You may not learn how to read or write. How to walk so perfectly straight you can balance a book on your head. You'll never learn how to sweet talk delegates from other regions, but you think the lessons you've learned are just as valuable.

You know to always keep your eyes trained down, you know when it is okay for you to speak. You know to listen and observe every conversation you stumble upon. You've learned the techniques it takes to survive living as your rank in a place run by royals.

Your father is one of the King's chefs, your mother one of the ladies in charge of making the Queen's tea. They fell in love and married, you coming along shortly after. This meant you were apart of the palace life since you were born. And once you were old enough you were put to work as well, helping the other ladies in the garden picking herbs and cutting flowers.

You didn't mind your job, not that you had anything to compare it to. You enjoyed being able to work outside and the older women doted on you endlessly.

The King and Queen had two sons. Two boys blessed in beauty and had their own unique talents. The oldest of the two was eager to adopt his role as future King. Loving to read the history of the region, often taking his horse to explore the land. The youngest of the two boys was quite the opposite. He was a softer boy who loved poetry and art. Eager to make his own paintings rather than read about those who already did.

The younger Prince, Hyunjin, was your age. In fact, he was born merely months after you. The Queen found comfort in talking about her pregnancy with your mother as she served her tea. Comparing symptoms and trying to guess if that meant they were having a boy or a girl.

And though not proper, you and Hyunjin often played together when you were young, though it came with disapproving looks from his father whenever he caught you both. "It's alright, they're still young." his mother would say.

You always wondered if that meant once you become older you and Hyunjin would no longer be friends. But here you are now, having recently turned eighteen, pulling weeds from the garden as Hyunjin sat next to you sketching a newly bloomed flower.

The late summer humidity was getting to you as you move to wipe the sweat from your brow, the wide brim hat protecting you from the sunlight but did little to help your temperature when there was no breeze out. Reaching to place another weed in your basket you let out a huff.

"Did you hear the news?" Hyunjin speaks up, one of the first words he's spoke since concentrated on his writing. You turn to look at him but he doesn't move his gaze from his paper. "Maehwa is pregnant."

Maehwa is Hyunjin's sister-in-law. She married his brother some years ago and is set to be the future Queen. You hum, removing one of your gloves to relieve a bit of the heat, "Yes, mother told me. She seems very excited." Now alongside the Queen, your mother also serves Maehwa her tea as well.

Hyunjin puts his pencil down, opening and closing his fist as if to relieve his charcoal coated fingers of the stiffness. "My brother says he secretly wishes it's a girl," Hyunjin chuckles knowing if their father heard he would yell at him, knowing tradition calls for needing sons in order to keep their position as royal family.

You smile at the thought, you were fond of Hyunjin's brother. He was always very polite and nice to not only you but everyone he met. He was well read and modern and determined to make a difference when he became King. Even Maehwa, whom he was arranged to marry was a perfect fit for him. Sharing his kindness and beliefs.

Returning your glove to your hand, you reach for another weed hidden beneath a dirt pile, "I know he will be a great father no matter what." Hyunjin hums in agreement moving to smudge bits of his drawing.

"Well, well, well," Someone draws out and you and Hyunjin look in surprise as someone approaches you both.

Upon seeing him, you avert your gaze, secretly rolling your eyes as he approaches, "What are you both doing alone?" It was Hyunjin's personal guard. A young man by the name of Sahan.

On Hyunjin's eighteenth birthday, a personal guard was hired to make sure he was safe, especially since it meant he could now travel outside of the palace. This is where Sahan came in, he was some years older than the Prince but much more immature. There was something about the man you didn't quite trust, and the inappropriate comments he makes to the women staff around the palace make you all uncomfortable. But Hyunjin doesn't see that, in fact he seems to love Sahan. Growing up his only contact with people around his age were his brother and you. You figure he takes pleasure in having Sahan around and sees him as a friend.

Hyunjin smiles as the man approaches, "Oh come on, you know she is my friend." He chuckles standing to his feet and wipes at his clothes to remove any dirt. You still don't move to look at them but you could basically hear the smirk in Sahan's voice, "That may be but you know it's inappropriate for you both to be alone. Especially when you are friends with someone so beautiful, it could be tempting."

You don't give the man the satisfaction of a reaction, biting your tongue and keeping your gaze fixed on the plant before you.

Hyunjin lets out an amused scoff and your stomach clenches as he speaks, "Oh, please. It's not like that." Sahan laughs loudly at this, perhaps finding amusement in your friends rejection of you. "Suit yourself," you hear Hyunjin gather his art supplies.

You don't dare to look back, not even when Hyunjin calls your name and tells you goodbye. You listen to the sound of their footsteps growing further and further away on the gravel.

Your mom always warned you your feelings for Hyunjin were dangerous.

But you merely rolled your eyes. You weren't stupid, you felt like saying. You knew you could never be with Hyunjin and you would never try to. Those thoughts you had about him falling in love with you and begging his parents to let him marry you were just fantasies you knew were for your head only.

But that doesn't mean it hurt any less when they announced he was getting married.

A scholar's daughter. Her family quicking raising in social status and wealth. Not acceptable for an heir, but for a second son, she would do.

You feel grateful that it isn't Hyunjin that breaks the news to you. That way when your mother tells you, you could cry in her arms as she tells you off for your feelings but hugs you tight nonetheless.

Hyunjin has always been romantic.

And now that he is getting his chance at love he seems happier than ever. Now sitting below the tree where you pick apples. Hanging on to the ladder and biting your tongue as he drowns out about his wedding.

"I think I will paint her something and surprise her with it the night of the wedding." He looks up at you and you fill the bag with the ripe fruit. You hum but don't speak, focusing on reaching and keeping your balance.

"She'll probably be so nervous to move into the palace. But after the wedding when we're finally alone, I'll reassure her I'll love her and protect her. And then I'll present her with the painting and we can display it in our room." He drones on.

He's always been like this, coming up with romantic scenarios where he's the hero that can save and comfort someone he loves. But unfortunately they've never been about you.

"I could paint a picture of her town, to remind her of home. What do you think?" He asks and you sigh. "That's sweet, Hyunjin." You say because no matter how bitter you feel, you can't deny the sentiment.

"I just met her, she's is quite the beauty."

You jump with a start, turning to see who has joined you in the gardeners shed. A chill runs through you as you see Sahan standing in the doorway. Without giving him a response, you turn back to the bucket of water where you were washing the vegetables.

Your heart pounds as he walks closer to you, your breath hitches as he stands directly behind you. "Salin, that's her name." He says in a low voice behind you.

He's speaking of Hyunjin's finacé. The wedding is tomorrow, and she arrived to the palace tonight.

"Leave me alone, Sahan." You finally say, scrubbing the radish for the wedding celebrations even harder.

Suddenly, you feel the weight of his hand over your waist, causing the vegetable to slip from your hand. You turn, burning red as he has the nerve to touch you.

"Don't touch me." You say firmly but he only looks down at you with a smirk. "Hyunjin is not yours anymore." He whispers, "He belongs to Salin now." He moves closer, pushing you into the large bucket, pressing against you and you try to push at his chest to keep your space.

"I can help you forget him, I can distract you." He leans in to whisper in your ear as you yank your head to the side. He hand form before returns to your waist giving it a squeeze.

"Get out. I'll scream." You say trying your best to keep your voice steady. But he merely laughs, "I think it's funny you have any power over me. You think anyone here will care what I do to you?"

Your lip wobbles as you look past his shoulder. Because no matter how small it made you feel, it was true.

There's a bustle of commotion from outside. You assume more gardeners returning to work after finishing their dinner. The whole palace will be awake all night to finish preparing for the big day tomorrow.

Sahan glances towards the door before pulling away from you completely. "I'll see you another time." He says simply before slipping out into the night. Leaving you to finish washing radishes as quiet sobs leave your mouth.

The wedding goes splendidly.

Not that you would know as you were not allowed near the occasion, but the rest of the palace speaks happily about the whole ordeal.

You haven't seen Hyunjin in over a month. You suppose you should've expected this as he is married now. But a part of you wanted to believe you meant a least a fraction as much to him as he did to you.

On that note, you haven't seen Sahan since that night as well. He was busy accompanying Hyunjin and Salin around the town as they explored her new home.

But now a sense of paranoia and dread filled you whenever you were alone. Not wanted to run into him in fear of what he would do to you.

It was one early morning when you and the rest of the garders were busy planting seeds for a new crop. However your work was interrupted when the newly appointed princess, Salin walked with her staff into the field.

As protocol has it, you all stopped your work, standing to bow before standing still with your gaze pointed to the ground.

"I came to check out the work," she speaks and her voice is light as a feather. It's the first time you've been in the same room as her and you're dying to cast your gaze up to get a glance at her. But you restrain yourself.

"Thank you for all your hard work." She speaks over everyone, walking down the line of you all before stopping merely feet from you. "As you all know, I am now Prince Hyunjin's wife. And I just want to remind you all that you are gardeners. You work for the palace."

"And palace staff is all you'll stay. Please remember your place. Staff should not be on comfortable speaking terms with any of the royal family." Your mouth runs dry at her words.

She is talking to you all, but you know she is speaking to you.

She thanks you all once again before taking her leave. Shakily, you get back to your position. She had to be talking about you, there was no other explanation. Somehow she must've found out about your friendship with Hyunjin, but how?

A couple of days later when it's your turn to set the fruit buckets to dry, you notice Hyunjin sitting under the tree just ahead of you.

A smile quirks on your face as for a second it feels like the old days. "Hyunjin," you call as you walk up to him giving him a friendly smile. He looks up from where he was drawing, eyebrows furrowed as if he didn't hear you approach.

But instead of his familiar warm smile or playful smirk he once gave you, his face stays still. A look of blankness casting over him like a veil. As if twenty years of memories slipped his mind.

"I hope you are not forgetting you are speaking to a member of the royal family." He speaks in an even tone.

You take a small step back taking a moment to consider his words. Hoping for a second that he was joking. Unfortunately there is not a hint of amusement in his face, instead a coldness that passes from his gaze to your blood.

"Your highness, excuse me." You say quietly before turning and scrambling off, forgetting about what you originally came for.

Your chest heaves as you make your way back to your working quarters. A dull pain lingering in your head as you try to comprehend what happened.

For as long as you've known Hyunjin you've never adhered to the rules that everyone else was expected to follow. He made it clear to you from the start that you were friends and there was no need to treat him otherwise.

Not realising that must've ended for him as soon as he got married.

You keep your head down as you enter the gardening shed, your coworkers chattering loudly. Suddenly, you remember about drying the baskets, so you quickly make your way into the corner pretending you came to grab more.

Stacking them slowly, you give yourself a minute to cry. Tears streaming down your face as you mourn your friend. It seems so sudden he was ripped from you without you even knowing.

You hear the door open but don't bother to look, not even when the loud chatter becomes murmurs.

You still work as you feel a presence behind you before a voice speaks, "I suppose whatever relationship you had with the Prince has come to an end."

It's Sahan. You recognize his chilling voice from anywhere. That must also explain why the other ladies have quieted. For there is no woman in the palace who feels comfortable with him.

You don't speak or acknowledge him as he only brings out a burning anger from within you.

"It's a shame the Princess doesn't want him around you. I must've let your friendship slip." He teases with a smirk you don't have to see to know is there.

So that's what happened. It's Sahan who told Princess Salin about your friendship with Hyunjin. That's why she visited you all in the fields the other day. That explains Hyunjin's behavior.

Sahan turns to leave a second later, perhaps not finding fun in your lack of reaction but you would never give him the satisfaction. You would never let him know that he's ruined you.

The next month has been miserable.

Not only is there a big harvest coming up that has you working from sunup to sundown, but you miss Hyunjin.

You loved Hyunjin. And although you were smart enough not to admit it to anyone it still doesn't stop the fact that you feel utterly heartbroken.

You've lost not only a love, but your only friend in the palace. At this point you feel as if you've had nothing left. Even your parents have got to retire from their years of hard work and loyalty, living in a house outside of the palace and in town. It may be small but it was their own.

One night you feel like you're sleepwalking as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters. The palace is dark as everyone who is inside sleeps, but you volunteered to be the one to cleaned and prepped the tools ready for the morning.

Walking past one of the building you freeze.

It could be your sleep deprivation, or the wind, but from within just for a second it sounded like a yelp.

You pause listening for more. Surely if there was something, the guards would be alerted by now.

There was not another yelp, but instead a large thud.

This, not something you could blame on being tired. You heard it loud and clear.

You look around, waiting for someone to come to check out the noises, but there are only crickets. Hesitantly you take a step towards the door. If no one else was coming you had to make sure everything was okay.

Slowly, you start to slide the door open, as if to warn whoever was on the other side of your entry. Once you slip in, you let your eyes adjust, only a single candle lighting the room from the corner.

Standing in the middle of the room, is Prince Salin, causing you to freeze. You're about to bow and apologize before you noticed the terrified look on her face. She's heaving, sweating from her brow.

Looking at her hands, you freeze noticing the blood.

A panic wells in you as you begin to think she is hurt.

She holds what looks like a piece of a vase. Your gaze continues to the floor. You quickly move your hands to your mouth before the sound of shock can leave you.

There lies his body.

A pool of blood spilling from his neck, looking black in the dark lighting. The remains of the broken vase scattered around him.

You make a quick decision, entering the room completely before shutting the door quietly behind you.

"He-He was trying to touch me! I just wanted him to stop!" Salin cries, far too loud for your liking.

You hush her, moving in front of her to throw your hand over her mouth. "It's okay." You comfort her, knowing in fact it was anything but with a dead body on the floor beneath you both.

Keeping your hand over her mouth as she cries, you look down at the mess. Your mind wheeling with what to do next. What you finally decide scares you at first, but you start to move before you can think too much.

"Listen to me," You whisper to her, waiting for her to meet your gaze. "You need to sneak back into your room okay? Don't let anyone see you. Wash your hands and burn the dress, do you understand?" She merely stares at you so you push your hand into her, "Do you understand?" You whisper harshly.

She finally nods, looking desperate. You remove your hand, "Only get the help of your most trusted lady. Don't speak a word of what happened, just have her wash you and burn the dress." You repeat hoping she gets it despite her shocked state.

You step away, taking the sharp glass from her hand before nodding at her, "Go." She doesn't move for a second, looking at you before you point to the door.

She doesn't spare you another glace as she leaves as quietly as you entered.

You stare at the door for a few moments before finally looking down at the body again.

Sahan.

Leaning down you let yourself check for a pulse, confirming he was dead. You return to your standing position, looking at him and not finding it in yourself to feel sorry for him at all. You contemplate, for even in death he continues to ruin your life.

And that's how they find you.

Hyunjin was always a romantic. Maybe that's why the second he found love he left you for dead.

You knew this would be the ending of your story as soon as you made the decision to take Salin's place.

Tied and kneeling in the courtyard of the palace, moments away from death.

Though your heart pounds with fear, you don't let yourself look away from Hyunjin, hoping to catch a glimpse at your old friend before you go.

But the reality is, he is no longer there.

For he was the one who suggested execution when they told him you had murdered his beloved Sahan. At the beginning you tried to plead, explaining how he was regularing harassing women around the palace. How you were merely defending yourself but it fell on deaf ears.

Sahan was right when he said he had more power than you, even now that he was gone.

You move your gaze from Hyunjin to Salin. You're welcome, you try to convey with your eyes. This could be you. You're lucky I'm the one who found you. All messages you want her to know, but you doubt she even cares at this point. Merely happy she got away with murder.

The guards ask if you have any last words.

You've been practicing for this. You clear your throat looking at Hyunjin in the eye. It didn't really matter what you said anyways, in moments you'd be dead.

You speak clearly, hoping to conceal any traces of fear from them.

"Hyunjin," You say loud enough to make sure he can hear, "It's ok if it hurts, because I love you."

A silence follows and though not even in your fantasies you imagined this is how you confess your love, you're just glad that you got to. Even if no reaction follows.

You keep Hyunjin's blank gaze until they throw the cloth bag over your head. Darkness consumes you, but you wish you could somehow see Hyunjin's reaction. To see if there is even a sliver of sadness or remorse as he see your life taken away from you.

🌼 All feedback is appreciated and welcomed 🌼

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bosbas · 1 year ago

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Chapter 6: you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 4.0k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, angst, miscommunication (ish), lots of feelings in this one, benedict actually being the biggest idiot known to man, slow burn continues to slowly burn

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: kind of a Benedict heavy chapter oops

May 29, 1814 - The Featherington Ball two nights prior proved quite the romantic affair, prompting not one, not two, but three proposals in its aftermath. The inquisitive minds among you may inquire, 'To whom were these proposals directed?' But the more important question, dearest reader, is of the identity of the proposer. The answer is quite simple: it was Mr Nigel Berbrooke on all three occasions. And so, the members of the ton may be unsurprised to find that Mr Berbrooke was met with three swift rejections. One hopes that Mr Berbrooke will have a shift in fortune at the Smythe-Smith musicale tomorrow night.

Among other news, our esteemed diamond has fled the spotlight. Miss Y/N Beaumont has not been spotted in the ton since the night of the Featherington ball. While Mr. Alexander Beaumont, her brother, cited an awful headache as the reason for her early departure from the ball, this author wonders whether Miss Beaumont was simply through with the social scene. One could certainly not blame her if Nigel Berbrooke is the only man of the ton who has taken romantic action this season. Hopefully, the Smythe-Smith abode will provide a better stage for young love, and if not, then at least the musicale will undoubtedly prove very entertaining.

As Francesca finished her dramatic reading of the Whistledown column, she was met with resounding laughter from her siblings. Although Nigel Berbrooke's lackluster success in his romantic pursuits was amusing in itself, Lady Whistledown's sharp wit and Francesca's theatrical flare only added to the absurdity of his situation.

Even Benedict, who was in a disagreeable mood because he hadn't spoken to you since the ball, couldn't help but chuckle. Eloise, breathless from laughter, extended her heartfelt condolences to the three unfortunate ladies who had fallen victim to the decidedly disagreeable Mr. Berbrooke.

"Three proposals in two days, all met with rejection? Positively ghastly," remarked Anthony, shaking his head in amusement.

Hyacinth was quick with a playful dig at her older brother. "Bold of you to assume you would be more successful than him, brother," came her retort, met with more giggles from her sisters and a feigned gasp of offense from Anthony.

"I assure you I absolutely would, dear Hyacinth. To start, I would refrain from pursuing three women at once. But you can rest peacefully knowing that whenever I choose to propose, my future wife will say yes in an instant," he drawled, a playful arrogance underscoring his words.

"I'd certainly like to see you try," Ben spoke, a slight edge to his voice. "Proposing to someone, I mean." Anthony turned to face his brother on the couch and raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.

He retorted with an equally cutting edge to his voice, "In reality, Benedict, it seems that you are in a better position to propose than I am, don't you think?"

As the thick tension in the room became palpable, Francesca, Eloise, and Hyacinth held their breath in anxious anticipation. Though neither brother displayed outward aggression, their words carried an unmistakable undercurrent of intensity.

Benedict's breathing grew heavier, his eyes narrowing. Keeping his temper in check, he shot back sarcastically, "And what, pray tell, gives you that impression, dear brother?" Silent ripples of anger emanated from him, and the Bridgerton sisters felt a rising unease as the dispute seemed on the verge of eruption.

Sharp and deadly, Anthony's voice cut through the charged silence of the sitting room, "The fact that you already have someone to propose to, perhaps."

Anthony had barely finished speaking when Benedict rose abruptly, hands formed into tight fists at his sides. With a murderous look on his face, he ground out, "Actually, I don't believe I do."

Seeing Anthony open his mouth to respond, Ben cut in quickly, pure poison dripping from his voice, "You are mistaken, Anthony. I have absolutely no one to propose to. There is simply nothing there. Nothing that a marriage can be built on, at least. I am aware that Y/N is looking for a husband, but it will most certainly not be me."

Hyacinth let out a quiet gasp of disbelief, quickly covering her mouth. Benedict swiftly stormed out of the room, leaving his siblings in dumbfounded silence. After a brief pause, Anthony shook his head, cursing under his breath and running after Benedict.

Benedict could barely feel his legs, white-hot anger flooding through him as he made his way to his bedroom. Typically, in such intense moments, he sought solace outdoors or channeled his frustrations into his art. But he had spent too many afternoons watching your nose scrunch as you laughed on the swings with him in the garden, and the walls of his studio were entirely filled with endless incomplete sketches of you, so he found the prospect rather unbearable at the moment.

But he felt Anthony's firm hand on his shoulder before he could reach the staircase. Rolling his eyes and turning around, Ben spat a callous, "What?"

"Benedict, you are being ridiculous," came Anthony's response, in a tone of voice that was not unkind. "I cannot pretend to understand the inner workings of your friendship with Y/N, but I do know that you are inadvertently distracting her from finding a husband."

Entirely disarmed by his brother's change in tone, Benedict let out a long breath, defeated. He ran his hands through his hair, clearly frustrated by his impossible situation.

"Perhaps the kindest thing to do would be to let her go," pressed Anthony carefully, aware of the sensitivity of the topic. "I doubt she is aware of it herself, but the girl clearly has some sort of feelings for you, and you are only leading her on, so to speak."

Benedict could only nod, anxiously chewing at his lower lip. He knew his actions at the Featherington ball were not helping in your search for a husband, but it hurt just as much to stay away. Either way, Ben was desperate to speak with you. He knew he had to give you space, but it had been two days of complete silence from both of you, and he was itching to apologize properly.

---

As you waited outside of the Bridgerton residence, you shifted on your feet. Usually, you were happy to walk in unannounced, the closeness between your family and the Bridgertons removing the need for formalities. But you were nervous to see Ben. You hadn't seen him in a few days, let alone spoken to him, and you really would rather not have the conversation you were about to have with him. Cass suggested sending him a letter, but you couldn't imagine him opening it alone, reading that you wanted distance from him. It was much better to do this in person, and hopefully, he would understand your situation. He would have to, as the Smythe-Smith musicale was tonight, and both of you would be in attendance.

Steeling yourself, you opened the front door and walked in, greeting the butler with a smile and a short wave, as you usually did. You practically skipped to the back door, eager to see Benedict despite dreading the difficult conversation ahead. You found him on the swings, staring off into the vast expanse of the Bridgerton garden. As you reached him, you tapped his shoulder three times and uttered a soft "Hi, Ben."

Immediately turning toward you, his face lit up in joy, and he stood up to hug you tight, spinning you around. "Well, hello! It's been far too long. How have you been?"

As you both settled into the swings, you cleared your throat uncomfortably. "I've been alright. How about you?"

"I've been alright. Anthony has been as irritating as ever, but unfortunately, there's no cure for that at the minute," he answered, earning a soft laugh from you.

But your face dropped quickly, and you found yourself anxiously chewing your lip and staring into his perceptive eyes. Wordlessly, he asked you what was wrong with a slight tilt of his head and furrow of his brow.

You cleared your throat again and spoke, "I apologize for running off the other night. I feel like I should explain myself. I've had some time to think in the past few days, and I do realize that I overreacted a bit, and for that, I am sorry."

He reached over to grab your hand, rubbing his thumb in a comforting manner. Although it pained you, and you wanted nothing more than to lean into his touch, you carefully took your hand out of his grasp and set it in your own lap. A look of hurt flashed briefly across his eyes, and you felt your throat tighten and your stomach ache. But you had to continue. You had to get it all out now while you still had momentum.

"I just-" you paused. "Um, it might... benefit me... if we took some time apart," you said. You knew Benedict was trying to hide how crestfallen he truly was, but you knew him too well to be oblivious to his pain.

You quickly jumped into your loosely prepared speech, "I don't mean away completely! And I don't mean forever, of course. I just think I could benefit from us... not acting how we usually do while I am trying to attract suitors."

He let your words hang in the air, fully processing what you were saying. "Of course, whatever you need. I'm sorry if I was distracting you from-"

"No!" you cut in. "Not at all! I think I was more distracting myself. This is not your fault in the least, Ben, and I'm sorry it's affecting you."

With a small smile, he shook his head, "It's quite alright, darling. I understand completely."

Except you really didn't think he understood. At all.

"Maybe... maybe we could refrain from dancing at future balls? And perhaps it is not the best idea for you to call me darling. Or kiss me on the forehead. And I know I get anxious sometimes, and you really do help me when you hold my hand, but maybe we could refrain from that as well? And I still want to see you loads, obviously, but maybe I won't ignore any potential suitors who come calling in the mornings in favor of coming to see you here."

Benedict was staring at you dumbly. Hearing you say, out loud, everything that needed to change, it was astounding to him how close of a friendship the two of you had. But he understood. Oh, did he understand. And he would do anything for you, even if anything involved giving up ballroom dances, because, let's be honest, who else would he dance with if not you. He realized you were staring at him expectantly, and he nodded quickly.

"Yes, yes, of course, dar-" He cringed internally. Perhaps this would be more challenging than expected. "Yes, of course, Y/N," he finished.

You smiled back gratefully, responding, "Well, that's settled then."

---

Benedict's earlier confidence in his ability to refrain from touching you was proving to be completely misguided. He had been at the musicale for barely an hour before he felt himself nearly vibrating with the need to be close to you. He had watched as you talked with suitor after suitor, patiently waiting for you to come over when you had a spare moment. But the spare moment never came. You were utterly enthralled in your conversations, not even sparing him a glance. The only time you had spoken to him was a small "Hello!" in passing as you walked across the ballroom holding Lord Egerton's forearm. At least you were not ignoring him purposefully, but he was still moping dejectedly about the ballroom, unable to join in the lively banter his siblings and yours always provided.

His night had not improved much by the time the musicale was over. His mother had pleaded with him to dance with Penelope Featherington, and he had begrudgingly complied. Of course, he usually enjoyed the girl's company, but tonight, he would have preferred to sulk in a corner of the ballroom by himself. Ben had also gone to the terrace with Colin and Alex but quickly opted to go back inside and torture himself by keeping an eye on you. The whole time he observed you, he could feel an unpleasant feeling deep in his stomach that traveled up his torso until it settled uncomfortably in his chest. It was an exercise in masochism, watching you flirt and smile and even giggle with other men. But Ben knew he could do nothing about it, aside from stewing in his own despair, of course. You had explicitly asked him for a chance to properly be courted without his interference, and it would be cruel to disallow you that.

While Benedict had a relatively uneventful but painful evening, you barely had a moment to yourself. Gentleman after gentleman, followed by mama after mama, came to ask you to dance or talk to you. You smiled through it all, of course, but as the night wore on, you became more and more irritable, finding that you simply wanted to go and chat to Benedict for a few minutes, to take a break from social niceties and have a laugh or two with him, at least. But you needed to stay focused, or your talk with Ben would have been for nothing.

After hours of listening to the grueling sounds of the Smythe-Smiths playing various instruments, you rejoiced when your mother interrupted your conversation with some earl or viscount and his mother. Their names escaped you, but at this point in the night, you were proud of yourself for even giving them more than one-word answers. Politely excusing yourself from the pair, you smiled gratefully at your mother, who only laughed good-naturedly at your distress.

"I didn't see you talking to Ben much tonight. Is everything alright with the two of you?"

You looked at your mother, cringing. "That obvious, was it?"

She gave you a questioning look and smiled, answering, "Given that the two of you usually are attached at the hip at every event you attend, yes, it was quite obvious."

You rolled your eyes at her, hiding how truly upset you were that you and Ben had taken some time apart. "We were not that attached! Besides, it's only one ball where I was more focused on finding a husband than my best friend. You should be happy!"

---

It had not, in fact, been only one ball. You had now gone five consecutive balls without dancing with Benedict. Opportunities to talk with you at these events were scarce, and he was lucky if he managed to secure a mere five minutes alone. Colin had noticed him looking dejected and morose at every social event, not that Ben was trying particularly hard to hide it, and asked about you. Benedict's response to his brother's concern was curt and evasive, a gruff "everything is fine."

Despite the distance, Ben found solace in your afternoons together after you had finished seeing callers. The moment you saw him, you would relax and launch into a lengthy explanation of the latest exciting information you had acquired from the vast library in the Beaumont home since none of the "so-called gentlemen" bothered to listen to you, as you put it.

He did enjoy your ramblings and appreciated the opportunity to ramble himself, launching into detailed studies of his favorite artists of the time. However, he was finding himself less able to put on a happy front when he barely talked to you for days at a time. At this point, he was not even harboring any negative feelings toward any of your suitors; he just missed you. His days felt empty and long, not having been apart from you for this long since before you could speak, probably. His family had noticed, and he was growing sick of their soft voices and careful treatment of him. He just wanted you back. He wanted to feel your head on his lap again and spend hours by your side in his art studio, painting on a canvas as you sat near him and read. Most of all, he missed the comfortable intimacy that came with your friendship, the quiet understanding that had been feeling out of sorts since you asked him for some space.

So, when you had bounded into the Bridgerton home this afternoon, carrying a new book in tow, he knew he couldn't go on the way the two of you were right now. You immediately noticed Benedict's tense mood, even more so than usual, and did not relent until he spoke to you about what was bothering him. You had a feeling you knew what he was going to say, having also felt his absence to the point of distraction, and had prepared to have a talk with Ben whenever he was ready. You would usually give in to anything he asked of you, having little to no self-control when it came to Benedict Bridgerton, but you knew you had to be strong today.

Seeing his bloodshot eyes, you placed a comforting hand on Ben's shoulder, breaking one of your rules but not finding it in you to care. He put his hand over yours, instantly feeling better than he had in over a week.

"It's just hard, isn't it? Have you felt it, too?" he looked at you, feeling a tad vulnerable.

You looked away, unable to meet his eyes for fear that you would start crying. You took a breath before answering, steeling yourself. "I have. It is proving to be quite difficult. But I need to find a husband, Ben," you said, your voice firm. "So, unless you're willing to marry me, it does have to be like this," you tried to make a lighthearted comment, but the crack in your voice gave you away too easily.

Your words left him speechless, and if he was completely candid, he could have cried right then and there. Benedict understood what you were saying. What you were implying, rather. And he shook his head, voice soft, "I can't do that, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

Of course, you had expected this answer, but it didn't make it any less difficult to know that Ben was still opposed to the idea of marrying you after having experienced the last week or so. So you nodded, finally looking at him, a sad smile gracing your lips.

"I guess that's our answer, then," you spoke.

Your words were a complete blow to his chest. He felt like he was going to be sick. Because, of course, this didn't only mean that the two of you would not be married, something Benedict already knew. This meant that your friendship could truly never be the same. The search for a husband you didn't even want was simply an insurmountable obstacle.

At least for today, he could still pretend things were normal. Your hand was still enclosed in his, and for a moment, he could forget all that had transpired and just enjoy the feel of your skin against his and the promise of an afternoon full of your entertaining and lighthearted literary commentary.

---

Violet was at her wit's end. She could recognize that her son was being a complete idiot, said with affection, of course. However, Violet would not stand for you, Benedict's best friend, her own best friend's daughter, looking absolutely heartbroken night after night, talking to men who would never understand you in the way that Ben did, and who did not even want to try. She knocked on his studio door and, upon entering, let out a deep sigh at the sheer volume of sketches of your face, your hands, your eyes, and just you in general that adorned her son's art studio.

The dowager viscountess cleared her throat with an air of authority, ready to give Benedict some much-needed tough love. Once she had made herself comfortable, sitting on the couch facing Ben, Violet clasped her hands in front of her. She could tell Ben was already dreading what she was going to say.

"Benedict, my sweet. You know, when I married your father, I was over the moon to be marrying someone I was not only in love with but also someone I could call my dear friend. In my experience, friendship as the foundation of a marriage creates the best kind of partnership."

Ignoring Benedict's increasingly tense energy, she continued, "I know you have an extraordinary friendship with Y/N. Everyone knows, actually. One can very clearly see that the two of you care for one another, and a friendship as special as that is not easy to come by."

Seeing her son open his mouth to interject, Violet silenced him with a stern look, not in the mood to be interrupted. "I fear that if you do not take advantage of this wonderful gift you have been given, your best friend will end up married to another man, and your friendship will be lucky to survive."

Benedict had had quite enough already. Anthony, then you, his mother, and even Hyacinth and Colin were all telling him the same thing, clearly not understanding that he simply did. Not. Want. To. Marry. You.

He was through feeling wounded; his hurt had transformed into full-blown anger. Being mindful to keep his voice in check, he spoke with as loud of a voice as was appropriate, desperate for anyone to actually listen to what he was saying.

"Mother, I appreciate your concern. But as I have told Anthony, Y/N, Hyacinth, and Colin, I do not wish to marry Y/N. I did not want to marry her two months ago, before her debut, and I do not want to marry her now. I am sick of everyone telling me what I want or what they think I should do. I know that I do not want her, and that will be the end of the discussion, thank you very much."

Benedict barely processed his mother's sympathetic look in response to his declaration, ignoring the hand he felt on his shoulder. Disappointed and a bit sad for your future, Violet walked out of his studio, knowing Ben wouldn't continue the conversation further.

Of course, what Benedict had told his mother was a lie. A lie so often repeated in his head he had been inclined to believe it for the better part of the last decade of your friendship. But deep down, Benedict knew it wasn't the truth.

The truth was that marriage was your worst nightmare. He was all too familiar with your grievances toward the institution, having heard you talk about your distaste for having to find a husband since childhood. Ben had spent years by your side, listening to you express your aversion to marriage over and over again. You were convinced you would be miserable after being wed, endlessly searching for something more: a freedom you thought you could never achieve once you were married.

And so, he could not marry you. It was selfish, to be sure, but he did not want your distaste and displeasure with marriage directed at him. He would give you anything else, but not this. In Benedict's opinion, if he married you, you would grow to dislike him, feeling trapped within the confines of your relationship.

Throughout your shared childhood, Ben watched you grow into an incredibly smart woman, and your growth inevitably brought about a growing hostility toward your future as a wife. He was intimately familiar with the fear that brought about this hostility, and he couldn't bring himself to be the person who made these fears come true.

Benedict knew that the two of you could learn to love each other if you were married. This was, of course, assuming that he wasn't already in love with you, which he could not bear to think about properly. He just didn't think he could survive it. Having a front-row seat to the unhappiness you would feel after being married and watching you fall out of love with him because of it. He simply couldn't be the cause of that. He cared about you too much to take that risk. So he chose to stay away instead, even if it meant the end of years of close friendship and love and intimacy.

—

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en-gelic · 10 months ago

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𓍼 . about us ⋆ p.sunghoon

pairing ๋࣭ ⭑ brothersbsf!sunghoon x f.reader | genre(s) ๋࣭ ⭑fluff, secret relationship word count ๋࣭ ⭑1.1k | warnings ๋࣭ ⭑ petnames (princess, baby, my love), slightly suggestive, mentions of parties, drinking, kisses | status ๋࣭ ⭑ proofread ! | 𓍯 library ๋࣭ ⭑

Seven months ago, upon the birthday of one of your brother’s friends whom you were told to stay away from, loud music ached your head and resounded through your ears, bitter liquid igniting your throat as you made your way through a crowd of third years playing drinking games, declining their invite for you to join them, and forced your way through the vacant kitchen. Refilling a new cup with water to soothe the pain that was crawling into your head, you sat on the kitchen counter after filling it up, closing your eyes and praying that no one entered your room and infused it with disturbing noises and revolting scents. As you opened your eyes, you caught the amused stare of a boy with pale skin, dark brown hair that fell below his eyes, abnormally long fangs, and a sharp jawline. You watched as he scanned you and walked towards you, a boyish grin igniting on his face. Your mind blanks as his built arms form a cage around your body. His face resembled an animal who finally caught something it desired. Snapping out of the trance he had so easily put you in, you attempted to free yourself which was stopped without difficulty. As his face advanced towards yours, your breaths mingled, and a rush of memorabilia flooded your mind as you recalled who he was.

Park Sunghoon.

You were five years old when you first met him, two years before he got into his career of figure skating. You met him through Jake, your older brother by one year, and was instantly included as the baby of the friendship. Mainly because you were the baby of the friendship. Your friendship with him continued until you were 15 when he went abroad to continue his training in figure skating. You knew Jake still called him, but you didn’t know that he came back. Looking much more like a man rather than an adolescent boy.

Leading your mind back to reality, you scanned his face again. Nothing changed much besides the fact that he looked a lot less young than he did when you last saw each other.

“So now do you remember me, love?” He asked, breath fanning your face, probably reading the confusion on your face as you looked at him.

Your stomach lurched at the sudden nickname and hint of playfulness in his tone.

Ignoring his question, you caught his face in your hands and lifted it to examine it better. “You look old.”

Hearing this, his face contorted in confusion at your sudden statement. “That’s one way to welcome me.”

Your mouth curled at the corners as you replied, “My apologies, your highness. I welcome your presence dearly.”

Amused at your tease, he straightened up. “You haven’t changed at all, princess.”

“You’ve changed. You became a massive flirt.” Your nose scrunched to mask the acrobatics your stomach was performing.

“Only for you.”

You could admit that before he left, there was something between the two of you. Exchanging secret glances, holding hands, and the utmost care you would put into doing something that had something to do with him.

“I heard from an unnamed source that you say this to everyone.” Still smiling, your arms engulfed his neck, pulling him into a hug.

“Tell that source, that I only mean it when I’m talking to you.” His body was warm and his hair tickled your shoulder. He adjusted his head and trailed soft kisses from your neck to your cheeks, stopping just as he reached your lips.

Amusement hinted with disappointment washed your features as he pulled away. “You tease.” You muttered, bringing your hand to the nape of his neck and pulling him towards you. Breaths mingled; your lips connected moving in sync as your heartbeat rapidly increased. Separating the both of you, you jumped off the kitchen counter, noticing almost immediately how much he had grown.

“You’re still short.” His lips, now tinted in pink, found their way to your forehead as you tugged at his hand, insisting on bringing him up to your room to show him everything he missed out on while he was gone.

Years had gone by, but it still felt like nothing had changed at all.

All you desired was a moment with him alone. Cramped in your room, your brother and his friends made themselves visibly comfortable by splaying their limbs out on your bed, leaving no breathing space for you who was in between Jake and Sunghoon. The movie was draining and boring, but Sunghoon insisted that they all watch the movie together. With only seven minutes left in the movie, you listened as everyone’s breathing became heavy. Your eyes began to feel heavy and were about to shut before an arm snaked around your waist and pulled you closer to them. He planted a kiss on your neck and adjusted your head so that you were resting on his arm. Flinching, you felt a cold hand sneak under your shirt drawing hearts on your stomach, reminding you how much he loved you.

“Your hands are so cold.” You said, fighting the urge to kick him as his hand was creeping higher.

“I’m cold-blooded.” He replied, his breath warm against your neck as you rolled your eyes at the horrible joke. He kissed your collarbone for a longer period this time and you quickly moved out of his reach, sensing that something that could get the both of you in trouble was about to happen. A grin painted his face as he pulled you back into his arms. “Is my baby scared that they’ll find out about us?” His tone was mocking as he was amused by your cautiousness. He was always getting the both of you into situations like this. Sending you messages when you were showing your brother something, knowing very well that you named him ‘My love’, holding your waist and nuzzling his head between your neck when everyone was around but no one was watching. Elbowing his rib, you turned to face his amused stare as he leaned down to peck your lips. Doing it more than once to tease you. For the last one you initiated it and held it for long, only separating to catch your breath. Lip on lip, moving in sync as your breaths mingled together. You felt someone moving beside you but still didn’t stop just to tease your boyfriend who pulled away almost immediately upon hearing the movement.

You looked up at his face and grinned in utter amusement at the worry that was painted on it.

“Are you scared they’re going to find out about us?” You teased, copying his mocking tone. He grinned back at you and muttered lowly against your hair, “How about we go to my place to continue?”

Your smile increased as you sat up and walked towards your door. "Why not?"

⭑ authors note: my perfectionism tried me while writing this :/

౨ৎ perm taglist: @i57berry @cholexc (open)

#lia writes ๋࣭ ⭑౨ৎ #enhypen imagines #park sunghoon imagines #writing #sunghoon imagines #enha fluff #park sunghoon #sunghoon #enhypen #enha #･･✸ en-gelic #･･✸ lia writes !#—🗯 lia blabs

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that-random-outsider · 3 months ago

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Okay so allow me to explain my unbridled hatred for King Beast

For starters it is said that the barrier along with Auradon was formed 20 years before the first movie, then add 2 because their 18 in the 3rd movie, and then another 6 I believe for rise of red (Don't quote me on that this is just an approximations) that leaves you with 28 years, Red and Chloe travel back in time 30 years which leaves them to meet there moms at age 16.

That leaves everything that happened to happen when they were 18 and I'm pretty sure it's assumed that Beast is in fact older than them by a few years. My educated guess is that he was about 21-24 years old based on what I remember from the original movie. Now understand that would this 24 year old forced an 18 year old Fay to trap every villain and their kid on a purgatory (most of whom she grew up with may I remind you) And if you really want to go there how many times can you think of the line "We used to be friends" appeared in a dcom because I can name a lot so there's a very real chance she used to be friends with a lot of them.

Just something about forcing a barely adult to lock away all of her childhood friends seems wrong to me but hey maybe I'm crazy. Now secondly BRIDGET poor sweet Bridget was going to war at 18 and no really think about that. She was ostracized for two years after castlecoming assuming that she could even make it to graduation between all the bullying and having no friends. Because yes she lost her only friend so she's been living in isolation for 2 years. And her mom is apparently gone. (I know this fandom has their own opinions but good or bad she was still her mother. ) Because at this point she is queen which means that her mother either stepped down or died and I really don't think Wonderland monarchs believe in stepping down. Either way she’s leading completely alone at this point and all she has is this country and now Beast wants to take that too!

The only thing left that's hers, her home, her safe place. The place where Bridget grew up, not the Queen of Hearts. And he just expected her to hand it over! Like he was entitled to her home, her kingdom. Just this random white man decided he should own this land because he wants it, and that sounds too familiar so ofcourse Bridget fights. 18 years old fighting for the right to her own home by herself and you expect that not to break her? It's no wonder she acts as if kindness is weakness people have been taking advantage of hers all her life. She's such a protective person but it manifest in the worse ways. In her mind She's protecting her people, her daughter from getting hurt by hurting her first and that's always my thought process for her. Not an excuse but an explanation.

#descendants rise of red #bridget of hearts #king beast #queen of hearts

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witchezandwonderz · 12 days ago

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Whispers of the Seer

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 1.8 k

Ivar’s fist thundered onto the wooden table before him, in turn almost breaking it clean in half. The sudden noise caused your breath to catch and your heart to flutter slightly, although you steadied yourself in a desperate attempt to show as little emotion as possible.

He looked at you, curiosity clouding him. He wanted a reaction from you. In fact, he could almost say that he needed one, for you had shown not an ounce of feeling since he had met you a mere days before. Ivar was used to evoking emotional reactions; it was fair to say that most, if not all residents of Kettegat were scared of Ivar, and his unpredictable ways. You were different.

You had appeared in the dead of night days before, for you had been experiencing the most intense, vivid visions. You had experienced visions since you were a mere child. Your mother and father had kept it quiet, as they knew what would happen if you were found to be a seer. They were not ready to let go of their little girl.

But, as you grew older, so did your visions and connections. You felt yourself growing more powerful, and you wanted to know more. You ran away from home once you felt restricted; you knew that your parents had your best interests at heart, but the gods had chosen you, and that was more special than any human love you felt.

You had visions of people often, both ones whom you recognised, and whom you had never seen before. Ivar was the first that you felt compelled to seek and guide. His bright blue eyes were scratched into your memory, and you felt the need to be close to him. As close as possible. You had always seen Ivar, since you were a child, but not often; a few times a year, perhaps. You did not know his name, you only knew what you saw, and that was not a lot. As you grew older, you pieced information about him together as though it were a puzzle.

You had known that his father, Ragnar Lothbrok had died; that night, you lay as you saw a brief picture of Ragnar in a snake pit. Since that night, your visions of Ivar became more intense and frequent than ever before and you knew that it was finally time to go and visit Ivar, and tell him everything.

“Do you know who I am?” Ivar's voice was low, venomous, but with a thread of curiosity woven through it. “What I am capable of?”

You tilted your head slightly, your hands clasped before you. “I do,” you replied, your tone even. “I know more of you than most, Ivar Ragnarsson. I know the weight of your pain, the fire of your ambition. And I know what the gods have shown me of your future.”

The room grew still, the air charged with unspoken tension.

Ivar breathed, a wide grin stubbornly stood on his lips as his eyes bore into you. Using both hands to grip the steel chair in front of you, you leant forward, ensuring to not break eye contact.

His eyes squinted slightly. “How convenient,” he began, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “that the gods have sent me a seer—one who just so happens to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

You stiffened but kept your composure, your hands remaining clasped before you.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his grin widening as he spoke. “Do you know how many women have tried to impress me? How many have thrown themselves at me, hoping to worm their way into my favour?” He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And yet none of them were what I wanted. Not one of them matched the image in my mind of what the gods should send me. And now, here you are.” He peered up at you, expecting some sort of reaction. But much to his dismay, you stared at him with the same blank expression, despite your thundering heartbeat.

“I’m supposed to believe,” he continued, his voice now low and sharp, “that out of all the women in all the kingdoms, the one who stands before me now—the perfect match for my tastes, my desires—was sent here by the gods?” He laughed bitterly, shaking his head again. “It sounds like a story a fool would believe.”

Your eyes narrowed, "you are a fool to think that the gods are so against you." You snapped, the echo of your works ricocheting throughout the room. Ivar's head consequently snapped up, his eyes widening due to the sheer shock of how you would dare to speak to him in such a way. His lips curved into a small smile; he liked it.

Ivar nodded his head, in turn encouraging you to continue. To which, you obliged. "Ivar, when your father died, my visions got stronger. I have always seen you, since I was a child. The gods are trying to tell me something. Destiny is not kind, Ivar. But it is powerful. And the gods do not make mistakes. I have seen you, in every vision, as clearly as I see you now. You are everything I have ever pictured, everything I have ever longed for, even when I didn’t understand what it meant. And I believe they sent me here because we are meant to shape each other’s fates." Your words came tumbling in a chaotic manner. This is the first time that you had shown any slight inkling of being a human being.

Ivar's grip tightened on the table in front of him. Silence rang in the air, as he quite clearly fought with his thoughts. You almost turned around and walked away, however, Ivar's sudden words broke the quietness.

"Everything you have ever longed for, you say?" His words were low, and teasing. You looked up at him in disbelief; after all that time, and all that tension, that was all that that he could think of?

"You do not understand both the weight and importance of my words." You shook your head. "You must start taking life seriously now, Ivar. You need to focus, if you want to be a leader." You spoke loudly, frustration soaring through your body.

Ivar was both shocked and overwhelmed. He did not understand why he was allowing someone to speak to him in such a way, and yet he knew exactly why. You were everything that he had ever dreamed of, and more. You were telling him your exact thoughts and feelings, while also making him feel as though he were the most important person in the world, and he could not fathom why.

"Prove it to me. Prove that you are who you say." He demanded, now a sense of seriousness planted on his face. He looked at you expectantly, an arrogance in his demeanour, in an attempt to mask his vulnerability.

You stepped forward, closing the distance between you, not faltering in the face of his simmering anger. You had seen his past—his childhood, his memories. The pieces of him that no one else knew, that he himself had buried. It was now time to lay them bare. You began to tell him stories of his childhood; his mother telling him stories about the gods, waiting for his father to come home.

"Lucky guess, perhaps." He said, his eyes darting between your eyes and lips.

You took a deep breathe. "Fine." You said. "You want something more personal?" You asked, your eyes peering up at him. He nodded in response, clearly amused. "You remember the first time it happened," you whispered, watching his face closely. " She was little, and blonde, the complete opposite to me. The first time you gave yourself to someone, thinking it would make you feel more… more like a man. More powerful. But it didn’t. It didn’t feel the way you thought it would. It was messy, uncertain, and for all the bravado you showed, there was a deep, gnawing loneliness underneath. It wasn’t just about taking what you wanted. It was about seeking something more—seeking connection, seeking validation. But that connection didn’t come from anyone but yourself."

Ivar's jaw clenched, he could not believe that you knew the details of his life- personal details, personal memories. His lips parted, as though he had intended to speak. He however, did not.

"And all the women that came after that, and I believe that there were many, were not good enough. You did not enjoy them, any of them." Your voice became low, as you stepped forward, closing the gap between you.

His gaze intensified, a mixture of confusion, longing, and something else—something dangerous—flaring in his eyes.

You smiled softly, a confident smirk curling at the corners of your lips. “You’ve always been searching for me, Ivar. And now, here I am, standing before you. No other woman could ever compare to what we’re meant to have. To what we’ve always had.”

In one swift motion, he reached for your waist and pulled you towards him. He looked at you for a moment, his breath hitching and his body stiffening for a moment. And then, just like that, his lips crashed onto yours with an intensity that left no room for hesitation or doubt.

The kiss was hungry, desperate. His hands found their way to your back, pulling you into him, his touch urgent and possessive. Your knees weakened at his actions, for his touch felt right, and his possessiveness was something that you yearned for.

Your hands tangled in his hair, deepening the kiss as the heat between you both soared higher.

Ivar pulled away just enough to look at you, his lips swollen, eyes dark and searching. He stared at you, as though trying to memorise the very essence of you in that moment. “Do you know what you’ve done?” he rasped, his voice husky, thick with desire and something else—something deeper. No woman had ever made him feel this way; he had never wanted someone so much, respected someone so much.

You barely had time to respond before he kissed you again, more urgently this time, his mouth claiming yours with a raw intensity that left no room for hesitation. His hands moved to the small of your back, lifting you up against him, the need to be closer, to feel every part of you against him growing unbearable.

He pulled away suddenly, causing your eyes to flutter open as you look up at him. His eyes darkened, "You will guide me." He stated, causing you to in turn nod your head. His grip on your waist tightened. "You are mine." He stated, his words laced with emotion. His words caused your stomach to erupt with a feeling unfamiliar to you, nervousness.

“I’ll kill anyone who dares go near you,” he growled. You could feel the raw intensity in his words, the promise of violence that came with them. You had proven yourself to him and it was as though he saw you as something precious, something irreplaceable, and he would protect you with every ounce of his being.

“And if anyone dares doubt your visions,” he continued, his voice low, “if they question the gods or the fate that binds us, they’ll meet the same fate. No one will ever dare challenge you or the truth you carry. No one will harm you.”

#vikings ivar #ivar lothbrok #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x reader #vikings fanfiction #vikings #ivar imagine #ivar x you

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theoneeyedgoldenwolf · 3 months ago

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Brothers not bound by blood

Whumptober 2024, number 13: Team As A Family

Inspiration:

Summary: One small question while fixing the Captain’s hair after a prank he had done leaves Time hurt. The answer he had sought for years wasn’t what he had waited for.

CW: Pranking, hurt feelings, cursing, literally stabbed to back, magic blockers, poisoning, arrows into bad guys, Wolfie attacking and mauling a bad guy, the Chain attacking and taking down the bad guys, near death situation, short bit of afterlife

Notion: - Time’s hair is much longer than in the comic for braiding reasons! =P Especially the hair at the back of his head since the bangs are perfect already. ;) - *facepalms* This didn’t feel whumpy enough and so I went and got Time literally stabbed to back. -.-‘ - Also, when the Chain was commenting on Time’s purring, I didn’t mean Legend to be the last one to talk. Sorry, Ledge, for the words I put you to say! XD So, this is one of my ideas how the Chain can stay together. =) I got two more ideas but those might take quite a while before getting written.

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The day had been going well. Time had declined from the offers of practice while claiming that he wasn’t as fast as the others and laughing things off while claiming he just was too old. But, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t supervise things as Warriors had taken his place and put the boys through their moves.

The Chain had gathered together for meal and the Chain’s leader finally had a chance to talk with his older brother. Yet, as he approached the high ranked soldier, he couldn’t help but feel entirely mischievous. This whole situation reminded him of the past he had had with the other Link.

“Captain.” Time called while coming over. The younger male, whom over twenty years ago had been older than him by a decade or so, turned around to face him.

“Yeah?” Warriors called before bit gasping as the one eyed male placed his hand onto his hair. Yet, he couldn’t help but enjoy of the situation and how things had, in a way, changed between him and his brother.

“Thank you for training with the younger Heroes today.” Time told while honestly meaning his words.

The war hero grinned and chuckled. “I was glad to give these youths some guidance.” He replied warmly. It was always nice when the others actually listened and learned from each other. They all had lot of experience and knowledge when it came to fighting with different weapons but it all was different from each other. That made it unique and allowed new attacks and moves that the others had never even thought about.

Suddenly Time pulled off while looking disgusted. “Eugh…” He almost whined while trying to calm down.

Warriors freaked out entirely by that. “WHAT?!” He screamed out while grabbing his hair. “WHAT IS IT?!” He nearly screamed while already starting to go through his hair. That, along with his looks, his armor and, most of all, his scarf were always in tiptop condition. If SOMETHING was messing things up, he would NOT accept such!

“I’m serious, Old Man. WHAT IS IT?!” The Captain demanded while messing up his hair while trying to figure the situation out. “A spider?!” He queried in near panic before something far more horrifying struck his mind. “DID A KEESE POOP IN MY HAIR?!” He shrieked in disgust and terror.

Time tried to wave his hand in dismissing way. “No…. It’s nothing. I overreacted.” He claimed but his older brother didn’t see the mischievous and victorious grin on his face. He was chuckling almost evilly as he headed back to the camp.

Hyrule had the bad luck of having just come back from gathering some healing herbs from close by. He hadn’t seen his oldest brother’s look as Warriors already dashed to him and started to shake him. “RULIE! WHAT’S IN MY HAIR?! TELL ME!!!” The war Hero panicked while barely even giving the youngster a chance to check the situation.

The half-fairy’s reassurances weren’t enough to calm the Captain down. Time watched with a grin as his older brother went from one Link to another. Few, such as Sky and Twilight, actually checked his hair and tried to assure him of there being nothing out of ordinary. Others took the chance to mess with him and claimed all kinds of things. Especially Legend seemed to enjoy of the moment.

The Chain’s leader was actually bit surprised that Warriors didn’t realize the similarities between this situation and the dozens during the war. The one eyed male had been one hell of a gremlin back then as a ten year old kid. He had pulled this trick on him so many times that it was almost worryingly odd that the high ranked soldier hadn’t already realized to pick up on the telltale signs of the prank.

After the meal the war Hero was still wary of his hair and desperately trying to check it. The rest of the Chain had already settled for the evening and gotten off of their gears. Time just couldn’t take it anymore so he moved over to his older brother. “Sit down to the ground, Wars.” He half commanded and the Captain followed the request.

The one eyed male sat down onto the log behind the younger male and started to go through his hair. “I fooled you, you know.” He told and grinned a bit when the man below him went rigid. “Just like so many times during the war.” He continued and chuckled when Warriors whined and slumped. “There’s nothing wrong with your hair. And I’m already fixing the knots and whatnot you’ve created.”

The Captain huffed but he closed his eyes and just enjoyed of the situation. “No braids, little brother. You owe me that much at least.” He commented while knowing how eager Sprite had been to do such little things.

Time rolled his eye and shook his head. “Still don’t understand what you have against braids.” He playfully grumbled while working with harder knot with delicate and gentle actions.

“I’d rather not answer that one.” Warriors replied but he could notice that the others were curious for the answer too. The Chain’s leader didn’t pay attention into the curiosity of the others, especially of Hyrule, Wind and Wild.

“Hmm… Maybe I should do a braid just because of that answer.” The Old Man mused with a mischievous grin. He began to tug on the hair a bit while entirely faking like doing a braid in there.

“Please, don’t.” The war Hero begged while hiding his face into his hands.

“Oh, I know a better one.” The oldest Link nearly smirked. “How about I start to tickle you? I know all the places where I can turn you into giggling breathless mess.”

“Sprite!” The Captain exclaimed while feeling like wanting to pull away from the place. Yet, he needed someone to get his hair fixed. He ended up whining as Time laughed behind him.

“You either answer the question after all these years or I’ll pick one of the two ideas of mine.” The one eyed male told calmly while still working with the fixations.

“You don’t want to hear the answer.” Warriors warned bit sharply.

“I think I deserve the answer after all these years.” Time replied while wondering what could be such an answer that the other one didn’t want to give out.

“It’ll hurt and I don’t want to hurt you or anyone else.” The war Hero told bit unwillingly. He gulped as the hands in his hair stilled for a moment as his little brother thought the answer through.

“Just tell. I’m sure we’re all old enough to understand it’s just one opinion.” The Chain’s leader commented. Still, he couldn’t help but feel bit of dread about the situation. Yet, it had already gone too far to back away anymore.

Warriors debated for a moment longer before sighing heavily and slumping with his ears drooping. “It’s girly.” He finally whispered. He nearly flinched as the hands in his hair stopped moving again. He could easily feel the shock around the camp by his words.

Time gulped thickly while trying not to let the words hit him. “Well…” He started with strained voice before bit shrugging. He was fighting to stay calm and forced his bit shaking hands to continue to fix the Captain’s hair. “T-that’s just one opinion.” He continued and inwardly cursed at the slight tremble in his voice. “I like the braids. It reminds me of home and fairies. They’re affectionate beings and do braids all the time. Hyrule’s half-fairy so doing braids is kinda like in his blood. Wild likes them for their uniqueness and different way of keeping his long hair off the way. Wind’s curious and just wanting to learn new things.” He explained as carefully as he could while knowing he wasn’t in one piece anymore.

“Anyway, your hair’s fixed.” The Old Man stated out firmly while standing up. He patted his older brother’s shoulder. “I’ll head off to bed. Wake me up for the second shift, thanks.” He told while avoiding eye contact and heading off to his things.

“Sprite…” Warriors called while not really knowing what to say. “I… I’m sorry.” He half shouted after him but all he got was a dismissive wave of a hand. He looked around in near distraught. “Guys… I… I’m sorry….” He whispered without really knowing what else to say as he knew Time hadn’t been the only one he had hurt.

The war Hero glanced once at the bedrolls and almost flinched at the fact of Time having his back towards them and he could hazard a guess of him having curled up too. He wasn’t shaking but the Captain was certain he was crying. This wasn’t the first time he had caused this kind of hurt to his brother. The first time had been in the war when he had claimed to Sprite that Hylians don’t purr. That hurt and shock in the kids eyes had killed him but he couldn’t fix it back then and now he had hurt his little brother all over again.

The Captain gulped a bit as he noticed the glares the others were giving him. Twilight was trying to calm Wild down while whispering reassuring words. Wind was in Sky’s arms and Hyrule was being consoled by Legend and Four. The roughest glares came from the Veteran and Ranch Hand. The Chosen Hero just was disappointed and sorrowful. The Smithy was trying to figure the situation through and kept his gaze off of him.

“I’ll take the first shift.” Warriors whispered while keeping his gaze in the fire.

“Might not be a good idea. I doubt Time wants you to wake him up.” Twilight nearly snarled the words out.

“I’m taking the first shift. I have no intentions of waking Time up for any of the shifts.” The war Hero sated out as firmly as he could. “I need to think. I need to find a way to apologize to him and to each of you.” He told much softer. “I did warn but I didn’t mean this kind of hurt.”

“He’s going to be mad for not being awakened for his shift.” Four commented calmly. He wasn’t among those whom had taken the words roughly but he sure as hell didn’t like others hurting his brothers no matter whom they were.

“I can deal with the gremlin but not with the hurt.” The Captain replied bit roughly before already apologizing. He sighed heavily and slumped. “He can be mad at me all he wants but I want to fix this. I can’t take it when I see him or any of your hurt. I just…” He explained before trailing off with a heavy sigh.

“Why do you think braids are girly?” Sky queried while trying to get into the bottom of things instead of letting the situation harm everyone any of worse.

Warriors shrugged. “Everyone whom I’ve ever seen having braids during the war and after it were all women. Sprite had those but he was a kid and surrounded by the fairies. I didn’t think much about that.” He answered as calmly as he could.

The Chain nodded and Sky was ready to go even deeper into the conversation before Hyrule took the chance. His voice was quiet and he kept his gaze on the ground. “The braids aren’t just for girls. Not with fairies. Some braids mean leadership. Some stand for specific title and status. Each fairy has their own signature braid to tell them apart from the others. It’s a sign that this person was helped by them specifically. That they were there first. It’s a sign of gratitude and caring. It’s a mark of family in a way of saying I give you my braid and you give yours so we’re together now. The braids mean the world to fairies.”

That explanation left the whole Chain silent around him. It took a while before Sky spoke softly with a small fond smile. “Braids are fun to do. Sun loves them and I’m always trying to find new ways to make them unique.”

“The flowers that are used have meaning.” Wild whispered quietly while leaning against Twilight and keeping his gaze off of everyone. “Sometimes it’s easier to speak through the flowers than to say the words out loud. And it means a lot when Time and Hyrule add them into my hair. They tell what they think of me without words. It means the world to me when they don’t say what flowers are used and I get to see them by taking a pic of the braid. It gives so much.”

“It’s a soothing action when I’m having a nightmare.” Wind told bit uncertainly and playing with the rim of his tunic. “Aryll does those little braids whenever she notices that I’m sleeping restlessly. It works the other way around too.”

Unknown to the Chain, their leader was listening to them talk. It felt bit nice to hear the others try to explain things and fix the situation. Still, it had been his older brother whom had called the braids girly. He took that much more to heart than if it would’ve come from someone unknown. The braids had been part of his life for as long as he could remember. The fairies did them already the day he had had hair to braid. He liked the feeling. He liked the memory of those flyers. He didn’t really have a braid of his own but three fairies had already claimed him as theirs. Navi, Tatl and Proxi. It was family and home. And now��.

Time carefully shifted and tried to dry the tears. It was like when Wars had told that Hylians didn’t purr. That only cats did that sound and but people didn’t. They weren’t animals. He had learned it from the fairies. They purred whenever they really were happy and at peace. Showing that they were enjoying of the actions and words. And then, it all was shattered. Just telling it was wrong. That it wasn’t supposed to be done or received. It was like saying he didn’t belong with the fairies whom called him as their brother not bound by blood. He couldn’t even anymore think that he could ask for Hyrule’s signature braid to be claimed by the fourth fairy in his life. He had always had a fairy for a bigger quest and on this one it was the Traveler. Now, he felt like had just been robbed of that right.

The one eyed male simply hid his face as the Chain finally headed off to bed and left Warriors to the first shift. He didn’t know what to do and even less what to say. So all he could do was to lay there and try to figure it out. Without him realizing it, he fell asleep at some point of the night.

The Old Man stirred into quiet talking. He tried to catch the words but the whispers were too silent for him to hear. He bit shrugged and just shifted before falling back asleep as it clearly wasn’t anything of bad and he still recognized the voices belonging to his boys. Yet, it still confused him a bit why Warriors was talking with Hyrule out of all of them after last night’s situation.

When the Chain’s leader woke up next time, the voices were louder. It still took a moment for his sleepy mind to catch the words and figure out whom was talking which line. Yet, he frowned when he realized that the topic of braids was still going. He yawned and forced himself up from bedroll. He scowled the moment he realized that everyone else was up already.

Time sighed heavily before facing the campfire and going over to the others. When his gaze fell into the war Hero, he stopped dead on his tracks. After moment of shock, he felt a grin tuck on his lips before letting it on. “So, am I asleep or am I really seeing the Mr. Braids-Are-Girly actually having braids in his hair? And a fancy ones too.” He queried while very much being ready to NOT let his older brother live this down anytime soon.

The Captain blushed brightly while feeling entirely nervous. He shrugged a bit while wanting to disappear right then and there. The others were waiting for the situation to unfold as they had already cleared things off.

The war Hero had woken Hyrule up couple of hours earlier. They had talked about braids and what they meant to the fairies. Much to the half-fairy’s shock, Warriors had eventually asked for one that would stand for a Captain and one for the meaning of a Hero. The Traveler had needed bit of coaxing and assuring before he created them along, with his brother’s acceptance, one that meant for older brother.

The others had been woken up about an hour later by Hyrule out of Warriors’ request. This was what he could do to show he hadn’t meant of anything bad. That he had just needed answers and explanations to why the braids weren’t just what girls did. He had never thought about the reasons or meanings of those creations. But, having seen the hurt his words had caused and the answers from his brothers, he was ready to give the braids a chance.

And right now Warriors had a braid that rounded his head. At his neck, starting off from the braid-crown at the middle of the back of his head, was another braid. On the sides of his face, in front of his ears, were braids too. In each of the braids was one single flower, a cherry blossom, except for the crown-braid which had four in it. That meant for seven flowers in total.

“The flower stands for warrior.” Wind piped in and Time nodded while still grinning.

“I’m aware but thanks.” The one eyed male replied before walking over to his older brother. At there he began to investigate the very ornamental braids.

“Hyrule did them.” Warriors whispered while bit fearing of how things would go down from here. “The crown with a tail stands for captain. The left side’s one stands for a Hero and the right side’s for a brother.” He explained while feeling like slumping beneath the checking his little brother was doing. “I…. I-I kinda asked for them. Hyrule had said fairies got braids for everything so….” He trailed off and bit shrugged.

The Chain’s leader stayed silent while listening before frowning. “Since you already got three, may I do a fourth one?” He inquired while already taking hold of the hair on middle of his brother’s forehead.

The Captain would’ve rather nodded but he couldn’t really dare to move as the one eyed male was already working without waiting for his answer. “S-sure…” He mumbled while not having any of idea what kind of braid it would be. At least Hyrule had described things and explained it all.

“There.” Time finally told and pulled off with a slight grin. Warriors feared for there to be a knot instead of a braid but at least no-one was laughing or trying to suppress such. Yet, when he glanced at the older male, he frowned. The look on his face was sorrowfully fond. “Proxi’s braid.” The Old Man explained quietly. “You were claimed by her before me.” He reminded gently.

“You… You remember her braid?” The Captain queried bit startled.

Time sighed and shrugged. “She taught it to me since I don’t have a braid of my own.” He answered bit tentatively.

“If a fairy teaches their braid to someone, that means for absolute family.” Hyrule told with slight shock. “You’re her brother through and through by that.” The war Hero was more shocked of the information than what his little brother was.

The one eyed male blushed a bit while smiling bit shyly. “I… I-I guess that goes with Navi and Tatl then too.” He whispered quietly, almost mouthed the words. He gulped once and pulled away from the war Hero before turning his gaze into the dying flames of the campfire. He needed to stay in one piece and not break down. He was their leader after all!

“May I teach you my braid?” The Traveler whispered and bit startled the Old Man as he hadn’t realized the half-fairy having come over.

Time felt uncertain, even fearful. He opened his mouth and shut it few times while trying to figure out what to do. He wanted to say yes. He wanted to at least nod but his older brother’s words of braids being girly were going around his head. He felt like he didn’t have the rights to accept even though Hyrule was offering to claim him as his brother.

“Go for it, Sprite.” Warriors whispered and startled the Chain’s leader quite thoroughly. “Family means the world. And I know what the fairies mean to you. What the eight of us mean to you.” He told bit sorrowfully. “I’m sorry, little brother. I should’ve rather talked about this instead of just claiming stuff.”

The oldest Link hesitated for a moment before he hugged the younger male tightly. After that he pulled off, took a deep breath and faced the half-fairy. “If you truly wish to claim me as your brother, then I accept.” He spoke in Fairy Language before bowing his head and closing his eye.

Hyrule smiled fondly and leaned his forehead against Time’s. “Brother. Now, before and forever.” He whispered before pulling off and beginning to braid the left side’s bangs while, in Fairy Language, explaining how the braid was done. After that he made another braid to right side with the meaning of a brother.

“You are ambidextrous but you prefer left so that is why my braid is on that side. You protect your family with your left side. They say heart is on right and hence I place brotherhood into there to be part of your life forever.” The Traveler explained in Hylian so that the others would understand the reasons for specific sides chosen.

“I wish I could return the favor. I really wish I had a braid of my own.” The one eyed male whispered bit sorrowfully. “For this reasons all I can give is the mark of brotherhood for both sides.” He continued before braiding the half-fairy’s hair. He knew he should’ve talked in Fairy Language but he wanted the others to know that he was claiming Hyrule as Hyrule had claimed him.

The half-fairy closed his eyes and bowed his head a bit while fully accepting the braids. Once the Old Man was done, Hyrule glomped him on that second. Time returned the hold while finally relaxing. He was family of four fairies now.

When they pulled off, Hyrule went to do a braid for Wild while the Champion worked with the breakfast. Wind dashed over to Time and eagerly requested for a braid or few. The oldest brother of the nine Links created the braids for brother and Hero. After that, one by one, the others came over too and asked for their hair to be braided.

Warriors watched the situation unfold and slowly calmed down. He couldn’t deny that the braids looked really amazing. They were elaborate and loving. And they had lot of meaning. That was what finally started to get him to accept the braids as something more than what girls did just because. And suddenly he realized something which got him to snap his gaze into the half-fairy.

“Hyrule, what’s the braids for a General and a Princess?” The war Hero queried with a slight frown. As the Traveler explained the unique braids, the Captain could easily recall the similarity in the braids Impa and Zelda had worn during the war.

After the meal the whole Chain was getting ready to head forward. Time approached Warriors and made sure the others wouldn’t listen in. “Wars.” He called carefully and the Captain turned around. “I know we should get to the town and restock but if you’re not yet ready to go around the public with braids, we can head different way. We can create arrows of our own and Twilight can hut with Wild. It’s nothing we haven’t done before.”

The war Hero was bit startled of the reminder but he thought for a while before shaking his head. “Nah. I’ll manage.” He answered and smiled reassuringly. “These braids mark me. Captain. Hero. Brother. I am all of those and claimed by one of the fairies as part of their family.” He continued surprisingly confidently before gently forcing Time to lower his head to lean their foreheads together. “I’m sorry, little brother, for having hurt you.” He apologized before bit grinning. “Oh, and please, do purr when you feel like it. Heard someone claim such heals. I’m sorry about having been such an idiot back then.”

The Chain’s leader was fully taken off guard but he sighed in relief and relaxed. “Thank you.” He whispered quietly before pulling off. “If you’re sure of this, then we should head forward so we can actually do some restocking today already.”

“I’m sure.” Warriors replied firmly and his little brother nodded once before going off to finish getting ready. He couldn’t deny of being bit worried but the braids were him. They told his rank, title and family. They told everything without needing to wear any markings such as the armor or scarf. And they were quite unchanged throughout the eras too.

The Chain arrived to the town, by Time’s accurate knowledge, at sixteen minutes over one. It was still lunch time but no-one was up for eating as Wild’s breakfasts were usually such amazing ones to keep one going well through the day if needed. The Champion did offer to handle meal but the others were more willing to get the restocking done and get to laze off for some hours before evening meal.

The Old Man stayed by his older brother while sharing off who searched out what. He had already noticed the attention they all had gained so far. It was why he had Wild with Twilight and Sky just to make sure he got the needed support if someone decided to be an idiot about the braids. Hyrule was with Legend while Wind left with Four.

“How are you so far?” The one eyed male queried before letting his older brother leave the Inn they were going to stay for a while.

“I’m used to the attention.” Warriors replied before tad shrinking under Time’s gaze.

“Not what I asked.” The one eyed male sated out bit warningly.

The Captain sighed and shrugged. “Still getting used to the braids but they’re telling who I am.” He told before bit slumping against the wall behind him. “But, that’s not what people see. They see the braids but they don’t see their meanings.”

“Do you want the braids off? Hyrule won’t mind. He would understand it.” Time offered bit sorrowfully but his brother shook his head. “You sure? You’re getting quite a lot of notion. And if they don’t understand the meaning of them, you’ll be getting the wrong kind of attention.” He warned while not wanting to put the war Hero into bad place.

“Army will understand. Commoners don’t.” Warriors replied firmly while standing up straight. “I’m a Captain and a Hero. I know who I am.” He stated out and nodded firmly to show he was ready to face the world.

The older male nodded back and took a deep breath before following the high ranked knight out of the Inn. He stayed by him but slight bit behind just to let him deal with things without him interfering unless needed. Most just watched and were very plainly curious while his brother just either ignored the stares or gave a grin and possibly a wink as thanks for the attention. Some acknowledge his rank and saluted while alarming others of his presence too. The war Hero replied into the actions accordingly.

And then there were the people whom either entirely ignored the signs and clear telltale marks of who they had in their notion or weren’t aware of them. The Chain’s leader hated the looks the fools threw at his brother and he was ready to strangle them for it. Warriors ignored most of them but he could see it affecting him. Eventually, when one of those fools came too close and clearly had wrong ideas in his head, the one eyed male couldn’t take it anymore.

Time growled and slammed his arm diagonally on full length into guy’s torso while striking the guy’s back roughly against the wall behind the man. “Show some respect, you bastard. You are in the presence of the man whom is both the Hero of Hyrule and the Captain of Hyrule’s army.” He snarled while glaring on full force at the man.

The said Captain of Hyrule’s army was taken fully off guard by his brother’s actions and words. He stared bit startled at the scene before calming down. He was entirely grateful of the protection the older male gave him but he also felt bit bad that he had been forced into this situation.

“Are you just fucking oblivious or entirely stupid for NOT recognizing the markings claiming him high ranked?” The one eyed male continued with almost cruel voice. “Everyone knows how fairies do their braids and mark those they care and respect. You have NO rights to your actions.”

The man in the Chain’s leader’s hold flinched and slumped. He muttered some kind of apology. “Brother.” The war Hero called before his little brother could go further with his words. “He already got it. You can let him go.” He told as calmly as he could. Time growled and pulled off but his glare didn’t lessen. “You’re lucky he’s lenient today. He could’ve easily crushed you.” Warriors told with a slight grin before turning his gaze into the taller male. “Come on, Sprite, let’s just continue.” He half called while turning to head forward.

The Old Man huffed and tore his glare off of the guy. He blinked once slowly and let himself calm down as he followed the Captain. Yet, before he got more than two steps forward, he felt dread lodge into him. The movement had been too fast for him to react before the hand was over his mouth to silence the loudest part of his scream as a knife was struck into his back.

Warriors jerked and turned around in a flash. “SPRITE!” He screamed out as he saw the guy they had just encountered to be right behind his little brother with hand over the one eyed male’s mouth. Time gave out a pained gasp as the knife was yanked out of him and brought into sight while the guy’s hold on him shifted to lower to hold him up.

The man smirked and snapped his fingers. Right after that other men came from the close by alley and surrounded them. The Captain gasped as two of the guys took strong hold of his arms. Yet, his gaze was fixed into the oldest of the nine Heroes.

Time was gasping for air. He had closed his eye but his face was twisted in pain. He was trembling and losing fast his strength and consciousness.

“Magic blockers and poison.” The guy behind the Chain’s leader mused with a smirk. “Works beautifully together. He’s not having much of time to live anymore.” He told and his smirk only widened at Warriors’ growl and struggling. “You can either come nice and easy with us or you can watch your brother die slowly and agonizingly.”

“Oooh! I know what this means.” One of the men suddenly told while coming closer to his comrade and Time. The one eyed male whimpered when the new guy’s hand brushed at his face and took hold of the braid. “Fairy braid. Connection.” He smirked cruelly while playing with it. “If it’s broken before twenty-four hours have gone past, it’ll mean the offer was declined and it can never be renewed.” He tugged at the hair and earned a new whimper from his victim. He licked at his lips with a sadistic look on his face. “How about I break this, hmm?”

“N-no…. P-please….. D-don’t….” Time whimpered while forcing his eye open. The look he gave was a pathetic plea compared to the cruel glare he had only moments ago given. “P-please… I-I’m begging of you….” He nearly prayed as the guy tugged at the braid again. He flinched as the guy laughed when he noticed him crying.

The war Hero was growling loudly and desperately fighting against the hold. “LEAVE HIM ALONE!” He screamed while hating the sight of his brother whimpering. The poison clearly had rendered him unable to fight back. The magic blockers wouldn’t prevent him from struggling or giving a death-glare to these bastards so it had to be the poison. And that freaked the crap out of Warriors as he realized how quickly and strongly it was affecting.

Suddenly the guy toying with the oldest Link’s braid screamed in pain. That one eye snapped open and took in the situation of the man having an arrow in his hand. He recognized it swiftly even though the short lived shock was already moving aside and the poison’s cruel work came back.

Soon two more screams were heard and the Captain dashed forward as he was freed. He glared on full force at the guy behind his little brother and punched the bad guy cruelly into face. He swiftly caught the Old Man and lowered them both down to the ground. If Wild was there with his archery skills, the others weren’t far.

And, just like on cue, the massive wolf dashed into the scene and crashed into the guy whom was closest to the Chain’s leader and his second in command. The canine growled cruelly before already sinking its teeth into the bastard. The man screamed as the Sacred Beast tore him apart in rage.

The Chain quickly showed up right after Wolfie. The swords swung through the air and forced the bad guys to back off. Sky tackled the guy whom had stabbed the one eyed male into the back. He wanted to kill the bastard but he had heard the word poison so he thought keeping the man alive was wiser idea at the moment in case they’d need information from him. Hyrule just dashed through the group and straight to Time and Warriors. He, like the others, had heard the muffled scream since they had, instead of going for restocking, followed the duo around. Sadly, they had been keeping bit too long distance just to make sure they wouldn’t be noticed and they wouldn’t overhear possible conversations. They just had been worried for Warriors going around with braids and attaching unwanted notion.

“T-the b-braid…?” Time almost slurred while looking desperately at his older brother. He was entirely terrified of the guy having done something to it.

“It’s intact.” The Captain assured while checking the braid. “Nothing to worry, little brother.” He assured as calmly as he could. “Just stay conscious, little brother. Just stay with me, Sprite.” He nearly begged while noticing the sleepiness the one eyed male was fighting against. Yet, with the reassurance about the braid, he relaxed more than he should’ve.

Hyrule was already working with his healing magic before growling in anger. “I need the knowledge of the poison! It’s blocking me out!” He shouted while trying even harder to get his magic in. He wasn’t even capable of tapping into his leader’s magic like every time before. The magic blockers didn’t stop external magics from getting inside. Those only blocked one’s own magic’s usage. The poison though….

It was enhancing the magic blockers so much that it almost got the magic to turn against its own wielder. It blocked the magic from leaving one’s body and from getting inside there. It was keeping the stab wound bleeding and unhealable. It almost paralyzed its holder and made breathing hard. It was weakening and killing the one having the poison within them. The worst thing was that it didn’t matter if one fought against it or not, it still got stronger with every passing second.

“We’re running out of time!” The Traveler nearly snarled as he watched Sky and Legend interrogate the guy whom had stabbed Time. At first each of their attempts failed but when they picked the man’s own knife up and noticed the dark purple goo on it, they threatened to stab him with it. The thought of getting poisoned with the same shit he had used got him finally to talk and tell what the poison was.

“Wild! Sky! I need you two!” The half-fairy almost commanded the moment he got the needed knowledge. The Chosen Hero was there before he even finished the sentence and the Champion jumped down from the roof before he took the Paraglider out to land safely. The moment the duo was by him, Hyrule already started to name herbs, plants and whatnot while commanding the Knight of Skyloft into getting the ingredients mixed the right way.

As the potion of sorts was on making, Time shakily raised his hand towards Warriors’ hair. The Captain swiftly took hold of his hand but the one eyed male almost fought to get it free so he loosened his hold. Slowly and weakly that hand found its way into the crown-braid. “Cap…” The Chain’s leader almost just mouthed the word out before continuing forward from there. “H-hero…” He mumbled, nearly slurred it before going for the third braid. “Bro…” He gave a weak and fond smile before softly exhaling while closing his eye. His hand fell limply down onto his chest.

“S-Sprite…?” Warriors called fearfully. “Sprite!” He half shouted while bit slapping the older male’s cheek. “SPRITE!” He screamed in near terror as he realized how quiet and unmoving his little brother was. “SPRITE! WAKE UP! DON’T DO THIS TO ME! WAKE UP!!” He screamed in terror while crying.

Before the war Hero could’ve cradled his brother into his arms, Hyrule was right back. He forced the golden colored liquid down the Chain’s leader’s throat while already initiating his magic. He nearly threw the small bowl out of his hold before slamming both of his hands down into the Old Man’s chest. The sudden arching and soundless gasp coming from the one eyed male startled everyone else except the half-fairy whom had been waiting for this reaction. Time wasn’t awake but at least he was breathing and alive.

It was hours later before Time stirred. He smiled fondly as he felt the action of someone running their fingers through his hair. Before he realized what he was doing, he already purred. Yet, nearly instantly, at the same time as the hand stilled in his hair, he stopped in shock. He hadn’t meant to do that sound. He slumped and felt entirely ashamed.

“Sprite? You awake?” Warriors called while gently resuming into his earlier action. He saw the older male gulp once before slowly opening his eye. The uncertainty and shame he saw in the gaze nearly killed his heart. Yet, he forced himself to smile fondly at his little brother. “Hey there, little brother.”

The one eyed male sighed and closed his eye while hiding his face into his hand. “Go on, you can say it. Purring is not meant for Hylians.” He half grumbled and turned to his side so his back was towards his brother.

The Captain was bit shocked of the situation but he soon grinned. He laid down and pulled the Chain’s leader into his arms. “Fine, hugging time, it is.” He stated out before getting tad startled as Time chuckled. “What?” He queried with a frown.

“Double meaning, dear big brother, double meaning.” The older male replied with a clear grin on his face. He chuckled again when the war Hero groaned.

“Just shut up and enjoy of the embrace.” Warriors playfully snapped and tightened his hold around the Old Man. Yet, he soon sighed heavily and hid his face into the other male’s hair. “I nearly lost you, Sprite.” He whispered bit fearfully while tad tightening his hold. “I freaked out so bad.” He mumbled with bit breaking voice.

Time sighed heavily in sorrow and carefully turned around in the younger male’s hold. After that he wrapped his arms around him and held tight. “I’m here, big brother.” He assured while moving to his back and pulling the Captain to his chest so he could feel and hear the heartbeat of his little brother. Yet, the moment the weight was there, the one eyed male hissed in pain and Warriors pulled off on that instant.

“You’re still healing.” The war Hero whispered sorrowfully. “The wound needs to heal on its own since the poison almost killed you. Hyrule was able to counter things and get the healing to work bit faster than normally. Still, it’ll take few days before that wound’s gone.”

Time carefully moved to his side and tried to relax. “I think I’ll just take a nap.” He mumbled while bit curling up.

“You’re allowed to have braids. And you’re allowed to purr.” Warriors told firmly while laying down in front of the one eyed male.

The Chain’s leader frowned and opened his eye. “What?” He queried bit confused.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you didn’t have the rights for those.” The Captain whispered while gently starting to run his fingers through the golden hair of his little brother. “I was an idiot. I’m supposed to protect and defend you. Not bring you down.”

Time huffed a bit and closed his eye while trying to relax. “We’ll talk about this when I’m more coherent to understand.” He mumbled while just wanting to get off of the conversation. Warriors simply nodded even though it went unseen.

Few days later the stab wound in the one eyed male’s back was healed. The Chain still made sure they’d have a day off just to be certain that their oldest brother was to his best condition. He was just going past the living room of the Inn towards the dining room to catch something to eat when he noticed all of his boys circled around something. He frowned and tilted his head a bit in confusion before going inside. “What are you guys doing?” He called curiously.

“Braiding.” Wind almost chirped happily.

“Brai— Wait, what?” Time gave a slight startled move before moving closer to his boys. “What exactly are you braiding?” He inquired while seeing all eight as Hylians so it wasn’t Wolfie they were doing braids into. He bit thought that the boys had found broken rug and were having fun with that. Them having broken the said rug did cross his head and got him bit uncertain.

“Come and see, little brother.” Warriors called while grinning. That got their leader even more worried of the situation but he went to check on the situation. He was quite taken off guard when he saw the very beautiful and very ornamental braid made by several long pieces of different colored yarns.

“Up to you to finish it.” Hyrule told with a fond smile while the Chain moved off the way. Time stared at the creation in shock and awe. There was one piece of yarn, a golden one, still off of the creation while the braid had eight yarns already together. He half crashed, half sat down to his knees while feeling almost unwilling to touch the creation.

“According to Hyrule one can make their own braid and claim it as their mark.” Legend started calmly.

“The braids the fairies have, are slightly bit altered from their own family’s mark to make them their own.” Sky explained with a fond smile.

“We’re not fairies but we’re a family.” Four stated it out as a certain fact.

“So, we made our own braid.” Wild continued with a bit shy smile.

“Our mark. Our braid. Our family.” Twilight said firmly.

“All it anymore needs is your line, Sprite.” Warriors told fondly.

Time stared almost wide-eyed at the braid made out of yarns. He didn’t know what to say or do but he picked the last piece of yarn with bit trembling hand. He felt hesitant and uncertain while feeling like he’d be destroying something the others had created. “Go on. Make it finished.” The Captain coaxed gently.

At first the one eyed male thought about just starting from middle where the Chain had left unconsciously an empty spot for the yarn and just wrap it around the other yarns gently and carefully. Yet he soon scratched that idea. It would ruin the creation and seem to suffocate things. So, instead, he very carefully and bit uncertainly began to slip the yarn into middle of the whole creation while having it in straight line but going up and below the other yarns to make it like the others were rounding it and claiming the straight line as part of them. For some reason it reminded him of all the times the Chain had piled on him for Hero Pile of Support and Comfort to show they were right there for him. Together and close to one another but not suffocating. Him being the protective leader but them being right by him to defend him too.

“Brothers not bound by blood.” Time whispered quietly after letting go of the golden yarn.

“I think that’s perfect name for the braid.” Hyrule commented. “The nine Heroes of Hyrule, brothers not bound by blood, a family through and through.” He mused fondly. “May we do this braid and claim you as ours?” The half-fairy queried while looking at his oldest brother with hope and love. The others were equally hopeful while clearly wanting to do this for him.

The Chain’s leader was unable to talk as he felt the lump in his throat. All he could do was to bite down to his lower lip and nod. He felt the tears in his eye so he closed it and let out a bit shuddering breath. The Chain moved behind him and each of them took hold of his hair. “Just hold the middle one straight, please.” Hyrule asked and his oldest brother did as requested.

“You okay, Sprite?” Warriors called as each of the Heroes were holding one piece of the braid while carefully, on their own times, swirled them around the others. Time was actually smiling while feeling tugging and moving his hair around to create the unique braid.

“Y-yeah…” The one eyed male half mumbled. “J-just….” He trailed off and tried to dry the tears.

“This is your braid, Time.” Hyrule said firmly and softly. “This is our braid.” He continued while making sure it all went as supposed to. “This is the braid of family.” He concluded while fully understanding how much this meant to the Chain’s leader. “You are family to four fairies and you are family to eight Heroes. With this braid, we claim you as our brother now, before and forever.” He explained and bit grinned as the seven others echoed his last line.

Time gasped in shock before already hiding his face into his hand while crying. He had never felt this loved and cared about before. Like the fairies before in his life, he now had eight brothers by the rules of the fairies. His brothers. His family. He barely was capable of talking when he whispered with slightly broken voice: “Thank you.”

“Can I get the braid next?” Warriors requested and the others nodded. Once the braid was done for the oldest brother of the nine Links, he kissed his little brother’s head. “It’s official now, Sprite. You are our brother through and through.” He told fondly.

Time turned around swiftly and pulled each of the Heroes into a tight hug. He would’ve loved to hug them all simultaneously but he wasn’t capable of that. Still, it was clear how much this action, the braid and the whole situation meant to him.

The rest of the Chain, one by one, requested for the braid too. The one whom got the braid to be done for them, held the middle one straight. The rest moved places for each other so in the end, every single one of them had held and moved each of the pieces of the braids. This further claimed the braid as theirs and made them even more of a family according to the Rules of the Fairies.

None of the nine Heroes wanted even one damage to come to the new braid so they stayed at the Inn for the day and the night. They weren’t going to allow any kind of chances that they’d decline from this offer and family. Each of the braids had been given with the words of With this braid, we claim you as our brother now, before and after. It was to show that this brotherhood would never break.

It didn’t need more than one stray fairy whom saw and heard the situation. She very quickly informed her kin of the new braid, of the new brothers and, most of all, of the new family. The moment the news reached the Great Fairies, the family of nine brothers were already, unknown to the Heroes, welcomed and blessed by the fliers. And Fierce Deity, connected to the family of nine brothers, was entirely doing all he could to expand the blessing and acceptance of the Great Fairies and their small sisters and brothers. Even though it wouldn’t come into the knowledge of the Heroes of Hyrule, this braid and the acceptance and blessing by the Great Fairies, fairies and the Fierce Deity would make it certain that they would be in contact even after they would have to leave back to their own eras.

Until then it was more often than not Warriors whom actually requested for the braid to be done for him. After him, usually, it was Time out of unconscious mutual agreement unless he specifically asked not to be next. Then, out of whom was the quickest, the rest of them half shouted off for a turn and taking numbers in a way.

Then, at one time, as the Chain had become very good at braiding their marking, the Chain’s leader purred contently while very much liking the action and, even more so, the specific braid. The others hadn’t heard him do such before so it took them off guard and they stopped the braiding. Yet, that also was when Time realized what he was doing. He jerked in shock and clamped his hands over his mouth even though it wasn’t where the sound came. He slumped with ears drooping.

“Just purr, little brother.” Warriors whispered and gently kissed the top of his leader’s head. “It’s good to see you enjoying.”

“Fairies purr. It’s natural to them.” Hyrule commented while nudging others to continue with the braid. “You were raised by them so it’s natural for you too.”

“I like to listen cats purr. Wish I knew how to do that.” Twilight told while wanting to glomp his mentor and find a way to make him purr again.

“Do that sound again! It was so comforting.” Wind nearly begged.

“Agreed. There’s something entirely enthralling and special in the sound you made.” Four told while bit frowning as he tried to figure the whole thing out.

“The Remlits purr too. It reminds of Skyloft and makes me feel safe.” Sky mused fondly while checking the line of hair he had in his hands that there weren’t any of knots or such as he waited his turn to swirl it around the braid to get it to correct place. “Since fairies purr, I now understand why their presence is so comforting and making me feel so at home when surrounded by them. I didn’t make that connection during my quest and, well, not until now.”

Legend hesitated for a while and already blushed but luckily everyone was ignoring his situation. “You make it sound so beautiful.” He mumbled and felt like wanting to disappear at the round of Aww-sounds. Yet, for his luck, no-one started to pick on him for that line. Though, the Veteran thought it was due to them wanting to make Time feel secure, happy and having full rights to do unconscious things such as purring without fearing to be ridiculed.

Hyrule took the next turn to have the braid done for him and he purred loudly and happily. Showing that there was nothing wrong with creating the sound. The others, with mixed results, tried to purr too when their hair was braided. Mostly the others tried not to laugh or giggle at the failed attempts but everything was done out of affection and made sure no harm was meant. Hugs and closeness were shared, especially from the oldest of them as he often felt bit overwhelmed and in need of gentle touches. The others were happy to provide him what he was needing. So, usually, those days were filled with leaning against one another and hugs.

When the end of the quest came as the evil was defeated and timelines were saved, the nine portals opened up to separate them. Yet, before they could even start to say their goodbyes, the area was filled with fairies whom were followed by the Great Fairies from all of their eras. Right after them, Fierce Deity came into sight with a slight startled and bit pained gasp from Time. The Chain straight off came next to their oldest brother while feeling contradicted of the situation. The God of Protection moved to the fairy kin and turned around with a fond smile.

“Hero of Time, my dear friend…” The Deity started calmly. “I have been doing my best to ensure you could keep contact to the family you have gained through this quest. Yet, I feared that I was not powerful enough while having been reduced into a mask and connected to you.”

The Great Fairies glanced at each other before one of them was chosen to be the one to speak on everyone’s behalf. “Dear Heroes of Hyrule, our brothers…” She began gently while sticking to Hylian Language for everyone to understand. “…The day you together created the Brothers not bound by blood -braid, was the day you gave us the rights to ensure nothing would break the ties you have created.”

Another Great Fairy stepped forward with a fond smile. “Hero of Wild, take your Slate and open it.” She requested and the Champion did as she asked of him. Yet, he gasped the second he noticed the new feature within his device. She nodded firmly and the fairies, in small groups, came to the Heroes.

The small fliers, with all possible colors of the world within their glow, carried smallish devices between them. “Please, accept our blessing.” Third one of the Great Fairies almost pleaded and the nine Links carefully took the small, round things into their hands. With Wild, though, the thing quickly was within the Slate.

Fierce sighed a bit and gave a sorrowful look to Time and Twilight. “I know you have thought that the name of the braid does not entirely hold true but, forgive me to stay this, it does. The two of you are not related as you believe. You are from different timelines but the end result is the same. It sadly goes crossed in your case and hence not related by blood.” He explained while making the braid’s claim entirely true between all nine Heroes.

“Guys…” Wild called while looking both entirely baffled and delighted at the same time. “These things… We can communicate through them. It’s like the Rock of Connection and my Slate. It’s like letters. It’s…..” He nearly choked on his words while looking so happy. “It’s like the portals. We can get back together whenever we wish. Call, letters, the sight of the others on a call like my Slate and Wind’s Rock of Connection and real honest portal to get back together.”

“Well, in that case…” Time started slowly before already grinning widely. “Don’t hesitate to drop in at the ranch whenever you wish. You’re all welcome to home at any time.” He promised fondly. The moment the others, besides Wild, understood the actual meaning of the small items in their hands, they already glomped Time while promising to visit often and telling that everyone was more than welcome to their eras and homes too.

The first one to make the visits to the others after that day was none other than Wild. He, with all the tech in his usage, figured the items swiftly and right after that already began to visit the others to teach them how to use the connection items. Before it even was fully realized, the Lon-Lon Ranch became more often than not the place where they all got together. Yet, even though it was used to keep contact and visit each other, it also became a way to request help and in no time the whole Chain was together to clear off whatever problem it was as it ranged from normal everyday problems and such into taking down ferocious monsters and cruel bad guys.

About a year later, during one call from Time to all of his brothers, the Chain got one hell of a surprise. Their leader was first having his back to the camera of sorts before, while grinning widely, turning around and introducing his bit over a week old baby girl. The room was filled with “Aawww!”, “Congrats!” and “What’s her name?”.

“So, when do you boys think you could come over again to meet her properly?” The one eyed male queried and the Chain, even though everyone at their own eras, glanced at each other through the shared screens.

“How about straight off?” Warriors half queried.

“Perfect. We’ll be waiting.” Time replied and grinned even wider. “My little princess needs her eight God Fathers, you know.” That almost got his brothers to faint before already scrambling into action and getting to the ranch in record time. Soon they were truly introduced to Linnea and their family had just grown by one.

When the natural end of the lives of the Heroes came, Time did not end up as the Hero’s Shade. He had had long and amazing life with his family of the Chain, Malon and their daughter. He got to see her grow into adulthood and worry for her safety with the eight brothers of his. He even lived to see his precious daughter to get married and to watch over her two kids. Not just all this, he also got to be there as the Chain found the love of their lives, got married and had kids. This was the life his counterpart in Twilight’s own timeline wouldn’t have.

As the Hero of Time met with the other Links at the afterlife, he wasn’t certain things were right for Twilight. Yet, even though the Rancher hadn’t met with the one he shared his blood with, he met with the real family he had of the Chain and the one eyed male. The Chain’s leader’s Cub was more than happy to be here than with a person he shared blood but knew nothing of. This was the family he knew and wanted to be with and, in the end, that was more than enough for Time as he had one hell of a huge family by him.

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