#knights of the rant table

[biropen]

About to start panic revising because I’ve just realised that it’s basically Thursday and my exams are in like three days

[antisocial-geek]

Alright I’ll say it I HATED GWENS AND ARTHUR’S RELATIONSHIP! It was so dumb and rushed! They did have some cute moments tho I’ll give them that. Like I love the characters themselves , but not the paring and I’m not saying this because I love merthur, I just can’t accept it.

Also this coming from my fourth rewatch of the series lol

[pippin-katz]

Rewatched Season 4, Episode 8 - Lamia

We deserved a scene of the knights apologizing to Merlin for their behavior after recovering from her influence. They treated him really fucking bad, to the point where he felt unsafe around them. They were threatening him, shoving him around, and even swinging torches at his face.

Obviously they were enchanted, but they definitely would’ve felt bad about it. I feel like there should’ve been a scene where they apologized.

[derekscorner]

Fated Rantings: Airgetlám

It's been a while, no? Welcome to my 11th (or was it 12th?) march into the Fate series. Albeit it delayed by covid, I finally saw the second of the two Camelot movies.

I made a small post after watching the first movie but I didn't make my usual long post for it since it was one part of two and because I had little to say.

In fact, some of what I said in that post apply to both films. Such as how the pacing feels a bit rushed, some characters change quickly, and some events are moved around or removed.

However, I can't call these faults with the movies since they're adaptions of the FGO mobile game and do not let the "mobile game" moniker fool you, FGO has novel volumes of text.

Some of it's arcs are even written by the original novel writer Nasu. He may be even more involved than that but my development knowledge on FGO isn't as broad as other series.

All that you need to know is that there was no way to compress that full Singularity into a movie just as there's no way to compress FGO into a full anime.

The one FGO anime that does exist just covers one singularity in of itself. (Babylonia Front) That is how each entry is.

So while I won't fault the movies for such things I do still miss certain aspects the mobile text had. Such as the lengths to convince Ozymandias, the hilarious fact that Hassan had beheaded him before the story started, Sherlock Holmes making an appearance, etc.

Instead I'd rather focus on how the movies made story moments full highlights. Such as Arash's sacrifice, it was damn near beautiful. Then you have any scene with Da Vinci in them. There's a fun troll energy to everything she does and I liked seeing it animated.

The glow up of Nitocris also caught me off guard. Her sprite and art in FGO is "eh" but she's downright adorable in these movies...and more powerful than the game gave me an impression of.

I am also glad I got to see at least some of the uneasy tension between Lancelot and Mash. Mash, being possessed by Galahad, Lancelot's son, does not give him any slack. You only see bits of it in the movie but each scene reminded me of the sheer disapproval Galahad has for Lancelot in the game.

For as badass as Lancelot is in legend, for all his power as a spirit, he can't deal with his son and it's amazing.

I also haven't forgotten other characters such as the Hassan's, the mountain people or even our leads Mash and Fujimaru but I will admit I have little to say about them.

The mountain people are shown little for the novel to movie compression reasons I already covered and the Hassan of the Arm and Serenity are good characters but I do not know what add about them.

I do like their characters thanks to the mobile games context but what you see is also what you get. They are great assassin's and the movie gives them great moments.

It would've been hard for them to compete with the original "Old man of the Mountain" anyway. Hassan, the real one, is legitimately intimidating and I looked forward to every scene he was in.

The way he taunts Gawain with the truth just moments after rendering his powerful holy sword useless. The way he just appears or vanishes, Hassan truly is death personified and you see even more of that ambiance in the game. Even a primordial god (tiamat) comes to fear him.

In turn, Mashu and Fujimaru are more or less "just there". Mash gets more interaction than Fujimaru but she does not take spotlight. The most significant of her time is in relation to Sir Galahad who had possessed her when FGO started.

Even then Galahad does not physically appear. He'll talk through Mash toward Lancelot but most of the relation is the other Knights realizing (usually in shock) that he is there thanks to Mash's shield.

You wonder why since Galahad doesn't appear in many movies/shows based on Arthurian legend but the short of it is Galahad's talent.

The Fate Galahad reflects his IRL myth, he was the perfect knight. He was nearly uncontested in swordplay, loyalty, and overall skill. He was the only knight to successfully get the Holy Grail, the real one.

In other words, even if just in spirit, Galahad's presence is to be feared. Him opposing knights is also a clear reminder to them that they're in the wrong because they know Galahad's moral compass is flawless.

Fujimaru felt the most like he was "just there" to me but I expected it in some form since he's just one of the two gender options for the FGO protagonist. A person you're supposed to name and see the PoV of in the game.

I see lots complain about how perfect or "overly good" he can be animated and while I can understand someone finding that annoying I also do not know what they expected. Fujimaru is a stand-in, they took the safe route with him for these films.

Granted, I know some of those complaints are levied at the Babylonia anime which is a bit more fair since it was a full anime production. It's also hard to not feel the flatness of him when you see his opposite, the female option in FGO dubbed "Gudako", being downright chaotic and funny in several Fate productions.

Her appearance in Carnival Phantasm is comedy skit gold and whoever wears her mascot attire in Japan is known for being a chaotic lil shit. I kid you not, look up videos.

And yes, I know that "Fujimaru" refers to both as well as that the male version is often called "Gudao". My point is that our mobile game PoV insert isn't too fleshed out a character nor do they have odd quirks to identify with.

I think this is fine because the two Camelot films aren't about Mash or Fujimaru. No, the true star of these films is Bedivere.

Knights of the Lion, Knight of the Round

I don't even know what to say about this man to get myself started. He, like most of the round table, is a tragic soul. More so in the Singularity than he is in other versions of history.

The movie didn't mention it but the sole reason this singularity existed, the catalyst for history altering, was Bedivere. Lion King Arthur is a result of Bedivere's actions, not the Mage King or the grail.

This movie also reminds me of the thing that pulled me into Fate to begin with, it's odd but loyal use of Arthurian legend. You may see female Arthur and laugh but do understand that King Arthur and his knights are more faithfully portrayed in Fate than they are most modern western media.

Bedivere is no exception. Everything from his personality to his fake arm are a nod to it. I'm not sure how true it is in Fate's history but the earliest versions of our history portray Bedivere as missing a hand (or arm) and while handsome he was not among Athur's most well known or even skilled knights.

He, however, was the most loyal. Galahad excelled in all areas but most knights matched (if not surpassed him) in one and for Bedivere that was loyalty.

That loyalty is shown in every version of Arthur's myth with his death. Bedivere was the one at his side when he died and he was the one that thrice approached the lake to return Excalibur.

It is also here where this version of Bedivere failed, in the final moment he was not loyal.

He could not accept Arthur's death and did not return the sword as instructed. That single act altered history and doomed it because Arthur was not by her tree when Bedivere returned.

He knew that Excalibur made her ageless & immortal but he didn't know that her holy spear Rhongomyniad did the same thing. By denying her Arthur's destined death she also held onto the spear and became a wandering spirit.

You see, the thing about gods in Fate is that many were originally something else before human faith and worship elevated them into a god. What Bedivere had no way of knowing is that centuries of wandering with a holy spear would eventually turn Arthur into a god or "divine spirit".

And this is more tragic than you can fathom because gods in Fate do not comprehend humanity. They are affected by it but they do not think on the same level and what they deem rational a person will not.

The great sin Bedivere committed here was rob King Arthur of her human heart. Something that her subjects already doubted that she had.

A good deal of Bedivere's guilt is see in the two movies as he realizes what exactly he has done.

He already felt guilt before the movies started and he was already warned by Merlin that the end of his journey would be rough but he didn't realize the extent of those words.

He, now ageless due to Excalibur, spent 1500yrs looking for Arthur hoping to apologize. A truly grueling punishment within the Fate series because souls, like bodies, degrade.

Your "essence" will go back to "the root" when you die but a soul can degrade overtime if left clinging to the mortal plane. For many, this results in their mind breaking and going mad.

Even the gods only thrive as long as the civilization that believes in them does. Nothing is eternal and that is the lesson Bedivere had to learn in the movies.

That's why I say that he is the star of this story. Over two films he has to learn that everything ends and that endings have meaning. Something doesn't just vanish when it's over.

He could not accept that Camelot was over or that Arthur was meant to be over.

Idolism

For many reading this you probably ponder "why?" but the movie also answers there albeit it in spurts. The best window into his loyalty and guilt is seen in how he reacts to the other knights.

Many of them look down on Bedivere even if they also praise his loyalty to the king to the point that him standing against the Lion King shocks them.

Even then, they see Bedivere as beneath them. Mordred especially chides Bedivere harshly for weakness. But what's telling is his words and replies to them, especially Mordred.

Bedivere looks down upon himself. Even after 1500yrs he does not understand why Arthur made him a knight when he's essentially just a normal person.

He was not blessed by faeries, he did not have a holy sword or other magical weapons...in Fate. Irl he supposedly had a magic spear but Fate seems to have forgone that.

In Bedivere's mind he's outclassed by the Knights of the Round in every possible aspect. Even his loyalty, the thing that the other knights were say he's best known for, is lacking in his eyes.

That does not mean Bedivere is a depressed or self loathing individual either...well originally. He's very harsh on himself in the movies for what he's caused but there's no indication he was that way originally.

He was truly at a loss as to why Arthur made him a knight and fully believed himself inadequate for the role but worked his hardest anyway.

This eventually put him in the pitfall that nearly everyone fell into, they idolized Arthur. All of the knights in the movie have flaws in their logic due to their idolized views and it's reflected in their words and oath to the Lion King.

Mordred & Agravain are possibly the biggest victims of this mindset but they're a topic for another day. What is unique here is that Bedivere wanted to see Arthur's true smile or see her drop the ideal king act.

This was not for any grand or selfish reasons Bedivere just wished for his king to be happy in a sense. Ironically, he too only ever saw the perfect king and could not let them go.

Even at the end of the movie I wonder if he ever truly understood Arthur. Because when I saw the film, the flashbacks, I didn't just see the tragedy of Bedivere's quilt and choice but I saw what Arthur saw.

Personally, I think that Artoria valued the normalcy of Bedivere. He truly was not blessed by faeries, heaven, or by magical blades. He was a guy that tried his best and he saw things the way a normal person would.

I can't say to what extent of course but I do think she saw true value in what he saw as shortcomings with himself.

Either way, these movies are truly beautiful and what makes them so isn't just the animation or OST but the tragedy that is Bedivere.

Other Knights and Conclusions

As said earlier, Mordred is a topic for another day and I've already talked about Lancelot in my Fate Zero post. In fact, the Lancelot here seems either loyal in spite of what happened to Guinevere or because of it.

Had the other knights not referenced his betrayal I'd have assumed he was summoned lacking those memories.

And I haven't read the 'Garden of Avalon' novel to truly know about the whole round table. Let alone Tristan who is infamous for the line about “The king does not understand the hearts of men.” which is misinterpreted.

Not in the sense that it's mistranslated but in the sense that how people took his words both in-story and out were not his intented feelings.

And I know next to nothing about Gawain in Fate other than he, like many, was a child of Morgan. Much of the chaos in Camelot was either direct or indirect thanks to Morgan's relationship to her children.

Agravain is a fascinating case study due to his nature. He famously hates women despite his king being a woman and it's thanks to his relation to his mother Morgan.

A trait he shares with Mordred oddly enough. Both have a complex relationship to Arthur based solely on how their mother warped them.

You can also see Agravain's dynamic with Lancelot in the movies. There's a disdain there and Lancelot is quick to suspect him despite being a betrayer. This is presumably due to Agravain exposing Lancelot's affair in life.

It is also due to people misreading Agravain's intent. He often appeals to Arthur's kingly or inhuman side and many assumed he was trying to run a shadow kingdom but Agravain was just trying to help his ideal king the best way he knew how.

He, to the disbelief of many, is actually very loyal to the king and country. His actions and feelings are just complex due to his hatred of Morgan and women compounded with his ideal king being a woman herself.

One day if I manage to read the novel I may come back to give Agravain a proper post since he fascinates me.

For now though I think I'll stop and focus on the Mordred post while it's fresh in my mind.

I can't really think of anything else in-depth to add. These movies are amazing, especially if you view it as Bedivere's story more so than an adaption of Fujimaru's.

The animation is godly and the scene of Bedivere returning Arthur's sword and her heart/memories with it is beautiful. The music is beautiful.

The OST for that scene is 'walk by' btw. Go give it a listen, bye now~

=============================

For my other experiences with Fate go here: https://derekscorner.tumblr.com/tagged/fated-rantings

[bluelavenderhaze]

Bluelance and Courtly Love Analysis

Spoilers for up to book 6

There are obvious similarities and allusions to Lance as a representation of Lancelot.

While Darcy isn't exactly like Queen Guinevere personality wise, her name (Gwen/Gwendalina) is a pretty obvious reference. There are also more general references to Arthurian myths.

On my re read of the series I noticed how much Darcy and Orion's relationship follows the principles of Courtly Love, especially those established in Chretien De Troyes Lancelot, The Knight of The Cart.

The points about Darcy being inaccessible and their love being dangerous to consummate are obviously established from the first book onwards, but the rest takes place over the series, as they both develop their love for each other. Lance doesn't start out as a noble knight but has to become that for Darcy.

He eventually becomes a knight worthy of her by recognising her as his Queen, swearing himself to her, sacrificing his social position for her, and fighting on her behalf. These are pretty standard Courtly Love tasks that knights perform.

Disregarding the general characteristics and focusing on the last three that are specific to Courtly Love, it becomes clear that this applies to Lance in a similar way to Lancelot. Both notably offer complete loyalty to the woman they love and are willing to endure shame for her.

As well as Lance becoming a better person due to Darcy.

I honestly really appreciate the research the authors did to accurately depict Courtly Love instead of just using names similar to Lancelot and Guinevere for a cute reference. I never expected that when I started the series.

[platinumshawnn]

to strangers | benjicot blackwood x fem!bracken reader

a/n: yes i am fully aware i should be writing him as davos out of respect for the accuracy of the show and character but i'm still mourning what could have been. also leave it to me to write a little prequel tying this to my own fic a little bit by writing what this guy was really up to on his "hunting trip" lol. have some poorly written smut anyways, if anyone sees that I accidentally called the bracken’s estate “hedge stone” instead of “stone hedge” no you didn’t shut up it’s been fixed

synopsis: benjicot likes to rile up the women he likes i guess

Content warnings: MDNI — 18+, adult language, mentions of blood, violence, and war; era related sexism, smut (fem p in v sex, unprotected sex, degradation) [not proofread]

Word count: 5.5k words

you had never been one for conflict — especially not that of drunken councilmen who became red in the face, knocking over cups and irate over matters of politics as they shouted. despite your father’s efforts to maintain diplomacy and restraint during meetings, it almost always ended in a screaming match at the table these days — even your uncle could not bear to sit through them, and often doubled up on the amount he drank just to sit through them, barely able to walk as he stumbled out.

you were almost always met with apologies from your father as he found you outside the doors of the hall, given a squeeze of hand, and ushered to bed. you did not care for politics, but there was no escaping the recent events — it affected everyone, reaching beyond stone hedge’s walls, but your father the most. he appeared to have aged significantly over the past days, eyes exhausted and on edge whenever she greeted him.

but this particular night had been…a lot more than usual. your cousin, aeron, had come back, shaking as he’d returned from a survey of the lands with your brother; having got into another squabble over the boundaries with some blackwood boys who had dared to come too close to their land, in aeron’s words. the whole thing dripped of theatrics — “that filthy…cunt, benjicot”

your head popped up from the handkerchief you were working to embroider, your mother on your right as the pair of you sat in one of the several cabinet rooms that your father had designated for your lessons as a child; having since used it as an escape from the noise. even your mother had been alerted by the commotion as the boys clamored into the hallway, looking out through the door that had been cracked open to provide some airflow in the room. there, your cousin stood, his nose bloody and still dripping as your father summoned the maester while ranting to your uncle, attempting to shush the boy-knight who was on the border of shouting. your interest was only peaked by the name, sitting up and turning your body towards the three men, ceasing what you had been doing and placing the handkerchief in your lap to listen.

your father had made eye contact with you as aeron continued, grabbing him by the shoulder and reaching to close the door before you could hear as he dragged your cousin away. your mother had encouraged you to continue, the look she gave reminding you of proprietary and of your place — with a curt nod, you had returned to your task.

that had been at midday, and since then, there had not yet been a break. you could hear the shouts from your room, and you could picture your father amidst it all, trying to bring order and peace — a task he was successful in every so often, silence falling over the room and quieting to hushed whispers that would only last a short time before the yelling continued.

sometime before midnight, the silence had ended finally, stood at the top of the stairs as the councilmen dispersed; other members of your house trickled out. you had stayed up, waiting to approach your father, in hopes to get some sort of information on the outcome. but the exhaustion was clear on his face, being met by a soft, “on the morrow, not tonight, my dear.”

he had pressed a kiss to your head and brushed past you, receding to his chambers for the night, leaving you at the base of the stairs. as you went to retreat to bed yourself, you heard the cursing mutters of aeron who had finally exited the great hall doors behind you, still seething after several hours — you were relieved at least to find that his nose had since stopped bleeding.

“aeron,” you called out, turning to descend down the four stairs you had climbed just as he stopped in the hallway towards his own chambers. his eyes found you. you approached him, hand reaching out to grab his face between your fingers, turning to assess his face for any additional injuries you may not have noticed earlier in the day. however, much to your relief, he was otherwise unharmed, “you really ought to stop antagonizing those men— you’re going to get yourself killed.” you scolded, sighing and dropping your hand.

aeron winced slightly, more from the reprimand than any lingering pain. “I can’t just let them insult our family, you know that.”

you shook her head, a mix of frustration and concern in your eyes. “I know, aeron, but there’s a difference between defending our honor and looking for trouble. what good will it do if you’re dead?”

He avoided your gaze, jaw clenching. “I just can’t stand the way they look at us, like we’re nothing and like they can do whatever it is they please. Like they own the riverlands. someone has to stand up to them if your father won’t.”

“standing up to them doesn’t mean getting into brawls. use your head, aeron. we need you alive, not battered and bruised,” you said, your tone softening.

aeron had sighed and muttered something unintelligible, only able to make out a ‘yeah’ before he withdrew to his own rooms.

you had tried to sleep — you did. but at some point, the heat, humid and sticky, had made it impossible to; instead, turning and tossing in your bed, growing increasingly frustrated before you stormed from the bed with a huff. the conversation between you and aeron had been stuck in your head, the sight of him bloodied haunting you — how did benjicot look then? was he unscathed and unharmed?

you knew he had always been stronger, a fiercer opponent but you couldn’t help the worry that plagued you.

you had quickly changed as best you could in the dark, without falling over in a way that would alert the guards; pulling your dress on and watching underneath the door as you smoothed out the fabric, doing your best to be silent in opening the door. peaking your head out and checking that both ways were clear, you slipped out and closed the door behind you, walking on your toes as you snuck through the house and out a backdoor that led into the fields.

you did your best to stay low and out of sight as you bolted through the fields towards the boundary stones, trying to remember who would be on surveillance — you couldn’t for the life of you remember, despite your best efforts to eavesdrop on your cousin's conversation earlier.

hell, you weren’t even sure you would see him.

sometimes you did, other times you didn’t — weeks would pass sometimes before you saw him again. sometimes it was hours before you saw him, sat, pulling at grass as you waited, knees to your chest.

today felt like one of those days, as you approached the river, out of sight from any prying eyes and sat by the edge, your eyes straining to see through the dark. the moon did little to penetrate the dense patch of trees. as the hours passed, your head had begun to drop against your knees, dozing off. there would be no way of keeping yourself awake all night, after a long day, opting as a last ditch attempt to awaken your senses by dipping your toes into the stream as you kicked off your shoes.

the water was a nice welcome in the heat, a content sigh leaving your mouth as you kicked your feet; splashing the water upwards. the wait seemed to drag on forever, growing impatient and trying to decide on whether to return home or not.

you’d give him another hour at most. If he didn’t come, then you would go home.

your gaze scanned the river, serene and peaceful as the rushing body of water sloshed around your feet; cool and refreshing. you’d have time.

you stood back from the water and fumbled to strip down to your chemise, discarding the dress to the grass by your shoes before easing down and into the water, letting out a hiss. slowly, wadding into its shallow depths, you moved forward until the water touched your thighs, lapping at your body as you cupped some of the water between your hands and tossed it up in front of you.

“you’re far from home, lady bracken.”

your head whipped toward the sound of a voice from the treeline, water sloshing around your legs as you faced the boy who the voice belonged to. the ends of your skirt had been released in the turn into the water, feet tangling in the soft sand of the river’s floor, just catching yourself from falling into its rapid rush by the luck of the Gods; the ends of the fabric now soaked by the flowing water that swirled around you. there he stood, barely peeking out from the cover of the trees as if that would somehow conceal his identity, hugging close to the trunk of one while he watched you from his shaded spot. there was hardly any way of seeing him in the night, the moon’s light not quite reaching him but his voice -- you would know that voice anywhere.

you stepped forward, halfway across the shallow depths of the river that flowed between the two lands of bracken territory and blackwoods, the cold water just reaching mid-thigh as you looked up at him, “as are you.” you quipped, heart rate rapid as your heart thrummed against your ribs.

despite the limited visibility, you could see his mouth quirk up in a half-smile, his amusement clear as his head tipped to the side while his eyes continued to watch you closely like some sort of prey. the limited sense of vision allowed you the ability to hear as he inhaled through his nose, breathing outwardly before he finally stepped forward to the edge of the water, his hand at the hilt of his dagger on his hip as his eyebrows rose, “and do you always take moonlit strolls through my land?”

you stilled, hands resting at your sides as your fingers dipped into the cool water below you, the cold nipping at your fingertips, “only when called for— the night was too beautiful to resist.” you replied, chin lifted to look up towards where he towered over you, “and what’s your excuse?”

he snorted, boots shifting against the dirt with as he moved to widen his stance, “the same perhaps,” he said, eyes glancing up to the sky above the riverlands that was littered with stars, “or maybe I was hoping to find a curious lady wandering too close to my territory.” he said, his voice a low rumble.

there was nothing threatening about his tone, however, his body language said otherwise — his eyes scanning their surroundings before looking back to your face, his body suggesting that he was on edge. as though he expected bracken men to burst through the trees behind you any minute. you took another languid step forward, closer to enemy territory, the thrill of it never failing to excite you.

“are you suggesting I’m trespassing?” you asked, your words steady as you bordered taunting the man who eyed you.

you could see as he squinted, narrowing his eyes at your words, “just…observing that you’re quite far from where you’re supposed to be at this hour, my lady.”

you hummed, eyebrows raised as the water continued to lap at the fabric of the cream coloured chemise that had been worn underneath the dress of typical bracken colours of yellow and brown having been discarded at the edge of the grass. you could see the moment his eyes lowered to scan down the length of the fabric, disappearing into the water and drifting higher up your thighs, bordering translucent against your skin, slow in dragging his eyes along the length of your body, “but i suppose the river doesn’t care for borders, does it?” he suddenly asked, his eyes returning to meet yours.

your mouth curved upwards, a wry smile on your face as his gaze emboldened you, “no it doesn’t, but neither do I, it seems. I don’t believe the assize said anything about the river.”

benjicot tutted condescendingly at her, smug as his hands shifted over his dagger, “careful, you're starting to sound like your cousin, bracken.” he warned, tone sharp, “do you not ever worry about what might be lurking in the shadows? his words came lighter now, the tension gone from his voice.

you let out a dry laugh, beginning to feel the effects of the frosty water that reached your hips the further you wadded, a cool breeze causing your skin to prickle with goosebumps. you shivered, sucking in a deep breath through clenched teeth, “only when they carry a dagger and a half-smile, I suppose.” you said.

his hands twitched, the grasp at his blade loosening as he seemed to contemplate reaching forward to drag you from the water at the sight of your shivering frame. however, he stopped himself and instead lifted his chin, mouth pressing into a tight smile, “then its a good thing I’m in a benevolent mood tonight.”

your head lowered to look down at the water, using your fingers to skim its surface, “I will take my chances.” you confidently said, lifting your gaze after a moment of pause.

he let out a ‘hmph’ sound, watching as you slowly closed the gap between the two lands to stand directly in front of him, the water shallow once again and only meeting mid-thigh. the now soaked gown did nothing to provide any ounce of modesty, sheer and clinging to your lower half as you stared up at him. your eyes followed his movements as he crouched, bringing him eye-to-eye as an elbow planted against one of his knees, “well, I suggest you be careful, my lady. the night is full of dangers.” he said, his voice low and quiet.

“and so is the day, but I’ve never been one to shy away from either.” you said, voice matching his volume before you stepped forward until you stood against the ledge, your other hand planting in the grass just between his boots as you lifted your right hand toward him, “are you going to help me or shall I call for my men?” you taunted, a grin on your face.

he rolled his eyes, smile broadening as he stood upright and bent to grab your hand, using his strength to pull you up and over the ledge, out of the waters with ease. you were brought to your feet, stood face-to-face with him, his face leaning close to yours as he spoke, “you wouldn’t dare.” he muttered, “how do you plan then, to explain your presence so close to blackwood land at this hour? alone, in a nightgown, with the heir?”

your chest brushed his as you leaned in towards him, “I’ll figure something out— you underestimate me.”

he hummed with a nod, his nose bumping yours in the close proximity. though his mouth did not yet make contact with yours, his breath fanned over lips, his eyes scanning your face, “oh, I’m sure you will. but do you think they will believe you?” he asked, the lazy smirk on his face laced with arrogance, “do you think there won’t be whispers? said whispers, questioning your maidenhead?”

“they’d be foolish to make such accusations against the daughter of amos bracken.” you countered, shoulders squaring with pride.

the man in front of you let out a sardonic chortle, releasing the hilt of his dagger and finding your hip, gripping the fabric of your chemise in his fist, stepping back and forcing you with him, “oh please.” he mocked, his hand dropping from your hip to reach down to your thigh and begin to hoist the soaked fabric upwards towards your waist, leaving you bear to the elements, “if only they could see their lord’s daughter, out parading herself like some whore on blackwood land. What do you think they would say then, hm?”

“‘Tis not their business what I do, nor my father’s.” you muttered.

“oh but i think they might say otherwise. you’re a noblewoman,” he jeered, his knuckles brushing against the bare skin of your belly as his hand dipped below your naval, “a highborn womb.”

you knew benjicot did not share their views -- in the very few occasions he had opened up during your late night escapades, red in the face with anger, rambling on about the audacity of his councilmen as he dressed. he had ranted about what the very outlook had done to his mother, that women were more than for breeding. but he enjoyed knocking you down a peg sometimes, humbling you back down to earth during these moments. he liked to mock the sanctity of your womanhood, even if for a moment, but then he would go back on himself and praise you once all was said and done — praise the very thing he mocked. However, on this particular night, something about his words lit the flames of pure, feminine rage, staring eye to eye with the man you had visited countless times over the past months.

“I am more than that.” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady.

he let out a melancholic hum, “you think so?”

he spoke to you like you were a child, who lived under the guise of a delusion — like a childish dream that you were expected to grow out of. the tone of his voice, paired by the sudden feeling of his hand between your thighs bred a slew of confusing emotions to spread within your chest; shamed and desperate, humiliated and seething as his fingers found the sensitive bud between folds that were slick with arousal that had you hot with embarrassment, fingers gliding up along your folds as you gritted your teeth, “how dare you—!”

the nature of his words stung when you knew how much he despised when other men looked down on women the way you had grown accustomed to; somehow after he had entrusted you enough to open up to you, he still had the nerve to throw it in your face—

he caught your hand that came up towards his throat, eyebrows raising as if to warn you, a grin on his mouth as his hand between your thighs stilled, “no need to be so hostile, sweet girl.” he said, guiding your hand down to your side as he moved to drive your back towards a tree, that hand coming to hold your chin in the space between his thumb and fingers, “I know you are a brave, resilient woman…” he quietly muttered, face coming close to yours and trapping you between his body and the tree, a knee coming between your thighs.

despite the rage that still burned within you, scorching like a wildfire, the warm contrast of his fingers on cold skin was welcomed; jolting up as his fingers pressed against you, fingers circling the bud and earning a soft sigh of a moan as you reached out to grab him, pulling him closer as though you were trying to crawl underneath his skin and become one. His mouth finally made contact, attaching itself to your throat and placing open-mouthed kisses to the skin, nipping the delicate skin with his teeth as his fingers worked against you.

“my clever, beautiful girl.” he praised, mouth reaching your collarbones.

you belly clenched, another moan elicited by his words as your hands fisted the cloak around his shoulders, his hand moving briefly to tug the fabric of your gown back up and out of his way as it dropped from its place around your hips. benjicot had a way of leaving you breathless and desperate, a flustered mess under his touch, the only man that could draw out the carnal sounds of pleasure; broken sighs and crying out as his middle and ring finger pushed themselves into you.

by the roots of his hair, you brought a hand to the back of his head and tugged him towards your mouth, his lips encapsulating yours in a feverish kiss; all teeth and tongue. you cried out, muffled by his mouth, as his thumb continued the prior pace, rubbing blind shapes into your clit as your mouth dropped open, too distracted by experienced fingers that slipped in and out of you with ease to reciprocate the kiss, “oh—, fuck.”

“yes, just like that,” he encouraged, voice soft. “just relax, my love.”

the weeks of pent up hunger and anticipation for this moment curled within you, settling into your lower belly, thighs attempting to clench around his hand. though you were stopped by the firm, strong thigh that had been planted there to prevent such from happening, his hips pressing into yours.

“ben, please…” you cried out, beginning to become overwhelmed between his mouth that returned to your throat and his hand, his pace increasing.

rather instead, he knelt suddenly, head buried beneath the thin chemise that draped over his head as he leaned into you. his shoulders brushed your thighs as his mouth replaced his thumb’s task, latching to the bundle of nerves and leaving you gasping, gripping his hair as your chest heaved. a low groan vibrated through your core from the man below you, reaching every end and nerve of your body as you struggled to keep up on your feet as your peak washed over you. his arm wrapped up underneath your right thigh, holding you against him and pressing against your hip as if that would somehow ground you as you nearly collapsed against him, your entire body alight as your walls squeezed around his fingers, clenching so tight it could restrict movement.

he was barely any gentler as he reemerged from your skirts, your head slumped back against the tree as he stood to tower over you once more, using the fabric of your gown to hold you up and practically manhandle you up against the tree that scraped your skin with each move. loose strands of hair had freed themselves from the half done up style, hanging in your face as you panted, mouth agape as you looked up at him; lips glistening with the reminisce of you — your cheeks heated with embarrassment, reaching out to touch his cheek.

he was beautiful, especially with you on his lips.

you dropped your hand and pulled him towards you by his hips, using the belt to your advantage to jerk him forward, his own lazy smirk mirrored by your tired smile as your hands fumbled to undo the laces of his pants. he aided in the task, skillful fingers pulling them with ease and shoving his pants down just enough that they sat high on his thighs, freeing his hardened cock from their confinement, your hand instinctively coming down to wrap around the length and stroke him. his lips parted above you, hands coming to cup your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks as his nose nudged yours.

you could have stayed there forever, in that moment — with the sight before you, a flush in his face as he appeared fucked out already, hair in a disarray from your fingers.

he reached across his chest to undo the clasp of his cloak, dropping it from his shoulders; getting rid of the only shield that hid you from any potential prying eyes — if anyone burst through the bushes then, there would be no hiding the act and it would be without any doubt what was happening.

‘parading herself like a whore on Blackwood land’

benjicot would be correct. if your cousins had dared to wander close to the borderlands again, you would be done for. there would be no protecting any ounce of your dignity and modesty at that point — you would be shamed by your entire family, and even worse, your father…he would be beyond furious and nothing less than gutted.

the thought and feeling of sheer shame it brought had you clinging close to the man in front of you, his body easily capable of concealing yours as one hand went above your shoulder to the tree, too blissed out to put an end to this and go home right then as his mouth pressed to yours in a sweet, affectionate kiss. you moaned against his mouth, his hand replacing yours around his cock to glide it up along your slit; gathering the slick as a means to lubricate the head of his cock, that already leaked pre-cum that mingled with your own arousal, the tip red and angry.

you braced against the tree, trying to regain footing, nearly slipping into him. he steadied you with the arm above your shoulder, wrapped around your ribs and forcing your chest against his as he slid into you, earning a gasp, breaths mingling as your own arm wrapped around his shoulders; clutching to him like your life depended on it — and in some ways, it did.

he held you up against the tree, having to shove the fabric of his tunic and doublet high up on his hips out of the way as he thrusted up into yours. each movement of his hips, shallow due to the position, his pelvis brushed against your clit, providing enough stimulation to leave you struggling for air as you fisted his clothing in your hands.

“fuck…” he rasped, lips brushing your own as they parted, each breath from his mouth sucked into your lungs as you relied on him for the strength to stay upright, slumping into him.

you were a jumbled, incoherent series of sounds as any paranoid thought of fearing your cousin's appearance went out the window, all consumed by him. your leg lifted by his hand guiding it by the back of your knee, thigh hooking around his hip and pulling him further, deeper into you and releasing a sob. you felt so full, it physically ached, walls clenching down around him and eliciting a hiss of air from him.

the sound of a branch cracking somewhere in the distance of the bushes caused you to jolt against him, eyes peering over his shoulder, wide and panicked as the thought crossed your mind again just how open you were to being exposed. you had done this time and time again, but never with his own men just several feet from the bush you were hidden among, and never during a war that had everyone on edge. the looming war had your father in particular paranoid, leading to an increase in fleets that surveyed the boundaries of bracken’s land and the thought instilled again, that fear that you could be caught.

as if he sensed your worry, his mouth caught yours in another kiss, forehead pressing to yours, “my love…” he muttered, bringing your attention back to him.

and he was successful, your gaze doing one last scan and straining into the dark before you were faced with his tired, lust-filled face, his cheeks flushed and striking even in the dark. the sweet name swelled your chest with adoration, your breath quick as you let out a moan, spiraling into bliss against him as his hand came between you to once again rub against your clit.

“ben, i can’t— please—“ the sound was weak and feeble, choked out and gasping for air as your body burned.

it was met by deaf ears as he gently shushed you, his mouth grazing yours, cock relentlessly rutting up into you with desperation — seeking for release as your walls fluttered around him. the groan he released was animalistic, deep from within his chest and carnal as you clutched onto him, struggling to keep yourself up against him and pulling him into you; seeking some kind of anchor to keep you grounded as his hand on your clit worked in unfaltering shapes that had you weak.

a final sob of pleasure left you as you clamped down around him, body tense and slumping against his as you released yourself around him. the final plea of his name and your walls were followed by a few sharp, final thrusts as he released his seed into you; fucking it deeper into you with a deep sigh of your name, a hand coming to your throat as he glanced down, his forehead resting against your chin.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

you stepped up onto the riverbank of your family’s side; thighs still aching while benjicot’s hand supported you from behind before he too crawled up behind you, not seeming to care that he was now soaked from his thighs down. He stood back, allowing you a silent moment to wring out your dress of any water as best you could, hands twisting the fabric and letting out a grunt of exertion before letting it drop back down to your feet. You bent to collect your dress, benjicot finally stepped forward to help in your task of redressing, hands smoothing the fabric over your hips and straightening your shoulders with a gaze down, not daring to make eye contact.

you both knew this could have been the last time you saw each other, the dawning realization casting an awkward, tense silence over the two of you as you eyed the fabric of his doublet; making a mental note of its ridges, the pattern of the woven article of clothing. he tensed as you lifted a hand to touch the fabric with your fingers, too intimate a gesture as fingers ran across his chest and up towards his shoulder before stilling there, your palm coming to place over his heart.

“when are you to marry the…” he began to ask, his face screwing up in disgust at the idea as he spat out the name, “Lefford boy.”

you gaze only briefly lifted towards his face when he spoke, a small snort leaving you at his reaction and smiling softly at his antics. The smile dropped after a moment, though, inhaling and sighting out a breath as you straightened out his own clothing with gentle tugs, brushing over the fabrics, “two nights from today.” you quietly replied.

he made a sound of disapproval, his gaze on your face as you finally looked him in the eye again, his hand rising to capture your wrist in his hold. You had heard the whispers as well throughout the halls of stone hedge, trying to picture it as you looked at him, “I hear rumors you’re to be married, too.” you pointed out, his face twitching.

he released your wrist, stepping back and looking towards his feet as he fixed his sleeves, “My father plans to betroth me against my will.” He admitted, his words a grumble as he shook out his arms and looked up at you again.

you nodded, “who? has he said anything of his intentions?”

“some girl.” he admitted, shaking his head with a shrug of his shoulders, cheeks expanding with a sigh, “the lord paramount’s granddaughter, I suppose.”

you smiled, tilting your head as you looked at him, “serra tully, right? that’s her name, yes?”

“unfortunately.” he grumbled in complaint.

“she’s quite beautiful, I hear.”

he shrugged again, letting out another grunt.

“well, you should probably be on your way,” you said, hands folding behind you as he looked across the river, the sun already beginning to come up. “your men will be looking for you soon.”

benjicot nodded, stepping forward and reluctantly reaching out to your waist, fingers gently pressing into your sides as he leaned forward to press a sweet kiss to your mouth, “I will see you soon.” He said as he withdrew from your mouth, face still hovering close.

you raised a hand and pressed it to his cheek, smiling as you looked up at him, “yes. maybe.”

his eyes rolled as you lifted a hand as if to gesture ‘just as I suspected’, looking over you as a sharp whistle sounded from somewhere beyond the trees from his camp, hands dropping from your sides and straightening the belt at his hips; you watched as his fingers went to the dagger at his right hip, removing it from its sheath, much to your confusion. He withdrew it and used his free hand to pull one of yours forward, pressing the blade into your palm and looking at you, “a wedding gift.” He quietly said.

you looked down at the blade, frowning and blinking rapidly a couple of times before looking up at him, mouth opened in a stutter, “benjicot, I- I can’t accept this. you might need-”

“I have plenty back home,” he assured, wrapping your fingers around the handle of it and licking his lips that were then pressed into a line that resembled an amused smile, “have it…in case that Lefford boy ever pisses you off.”

you let out a laugh, a smile coming to his face as your hand dropped from his, the dagger clutched by your side, “very charming of you.”

He chuckled and pressed another quick kiss to your forehead before he brushed past you, hurrying into the river with a splash and sloshing back in the direction he had come from. you watched as he climbed out of the water, entering back out onto blackwood territory and giving one last glance as he retreated back into the trees.

[astridthevalkyrie]

xavier thinks you're cruel when you smile. everything about you is different, to the point where it feels like you're just a whole different person sharing the same face as the woman he knew. but then, when he met you as a lightseeker, he'd thought the same thing, that you were nothing like his best friend who didn't have any grand dreams of becoming a grandis knight, and only thought of living today to the fullest because she knew she would not see tomorrow. and then he'd fallen for the woman sacrificing her blood, sweat and tears just so that she could be claimed as his. and as predicted, he's fallen for you for the third time now, and he realizes that your personality could change a million times over a million lives, and he will love you more and more each time he meets you. because no matter what you do and no matter what you are trying to be, your smile blinds him each and every time. and that is what he finds cruel, because it must be cruel to make him fall for that smile again and again and again, and surely there is a limit to how many people one man can fall in love with. perhaps he's the exception, or perhaps it doesn't count because you are still one person. either way, it is torture, torture in its sweetest form that he could never hate you for, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.

"mister deepspace hunter," you sing, poking his cheek with a chicken plushie, "you can't sleep, we've only seen two movies."

"how many more are there?"

"three more in this series, and then we start the next fantasy series."

"you're insane," he says sweetly, burrowing further under your favorite blanket.

with a giggle, you lay your head down on his lap, hair splayed out on what he deems is your rightful pillow. "it's not a movie night if we don't stay up the whole night."

he's about to tell you that both of you need sleep, that it's not healthy to stay up this late or to pull all-nighters, but then he gazes down to where you're grinning up at him, and his heart stops for a second, because you are so, so, so beautiful, and he's gone.

sleep can wait another day.

zayne thinks you're cruel when you speak. you are reserved around him, and while he never thinks you should limit yourself, least of all on his behalf, maybe this is the most merciful path you can take. because once you do start speaking, once you place your hand over his across whichever table at whichever restaurant to go off on an excited ramble about your latest endeavor, everything else fades way. and it is cruel, to make him lose control all of all senses aside from sound. it is cruel to metaphorically force him on his knees to bend and dance to the sound of your voice and your voice alone. it leaves him vulnerable, to pain, to betrayal, to any and every harmful thing that could possibly be surrounding him, when he cannot observe, when he cannot fight, when he cannot be, while you are speaking. when every individual word you speak has its own unique significance, and he would not be able to kill anyone who interrupts you because he would not even realize it happened, too entranced by the spell you cast. he is not his own in those moments, he only belongs to you. and thankfully, nothing does befall him, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.

"what do you think?"

he pauses, hand in yours as the two of you walk, blinking at you a few times. "what do i think?"

"yeah, you, doctor," you tease, squeezing his fingers. "what do you think? i've been talking your head off for five minutes."

he is not jarred because he hadn't been paying attention, on the contrary he'd been hanging off your every word. his opinion simply does not matter as much in his eyes.

"i agree with you," he says, enjoying the way you beam at his concurrence, "but what did you think about the other article?"

predictably, you take the bait and launch into another long rant, and he wills this topic to last forever.

rafayel thinks you're cruel when you sleep. so, so soundly you sleep, sometimes in his own bed because he offers it to you like a fool. you look beautiful when you sleep, which is half the problem, and he knows that it is all sorts of wrong to find you beautiful when he's also paralyzed because of how similar your appearance is to death. from a distance, he could never tell the difference. it is only when he is next to you, holding your slack wrist in his hands, that he can breathe easier by pressing his fingers to your pulse. and he is terrified that one day he won't feel it, because it has happened before. one moment you were there, alive and well and his, and the next you were in his arms, lifeless and limp and somehow still beautiful. so there is no way for him to calm his racing heart when he sees you asleep, and the reason it's cruel is because he knows he cannot disturb you. not you, who works so hard and needs your sleep more than anyone else. he cannot ask you to sit up and breathe and laugh and show him that you're still alive. even though he knows you would should he ask, because you are not actually cruel, you are far kinder than he deserves.

"hmm." your eyes are bleary as they blink awake, hardly aware of where you are.

he slides his arms around you from behind, hiding his face in your neck. "you can go back to sleep, was just making sure you were still alive."

a quiet huff escapes you, clearly annoyed at being woken up for such a ludicrous reason. "don't be annoying."

he wasn't trying to be, this time. "okay," he whispers, "sorry."

you turn all of a sudden, shifting in his arms until you're facing him, with a light glare. another apology is on his lips when you crossly tell him, "i was kidding. you're not annoying."

"i can be. sometimes," he admits softly.

"no." you press a deep kiss to his lips, and he understands now why some humans would rather choose to drown under the sea instead of going back to the surface. "you're not annoying. you're never annoying. i love you. okay?"

his voice is choked the next time he speaks, with your face hidden in his neck, soft puffs of air on his neck letting him know that you're still breathing. a tear runs down his cheek.

"okay."

[plus-size-reader]

Loyalty

Aemond Targaryen x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 3628 words

Warnings: none

Summary: The reader is closer to Aegon, which is unacceptable to Aemond, who is in love with her and always has been

(Disclaimer: I despise the brutality against women used as a plot device for 'entertainment' so any SA or ickiness regarding Aegon doesn't exist in my universe. He's still a burden on the realm and uber pathetic tho)

—————————————————————————————————

You had always cared for Aegon.

He could be challenging sometimes, you knew that better than anyone, but that didn’t change the fact that he was important to you. As children, he would share his toys with you and tell you stories of worlds far beyond this one.

Things changed as you got older, of course, but he was still Aegon. It didn’t matter how crass, cruel, or drunk he got.

He was your truest friend, and that meant that you were willing to put up with certain things for his sake.

At this moment, for example, you were listening to him drunkenly ramble about battle strategy and knights he figured he could best in combat over dinner. Did you particularly care about either of those things? Of course not.

…but Aegon did, so you listened all the same.

Just as the rest of his family did, because like it or not, he was the firstborn son and this kingdom was his to inherit.

One member of his family, in particular, was less than thrilled with this arrangement. At the other end of the table sat Aemond, the second son of King Viserys Targaryen, drinking from his own goblet to keep the bile from rising in his throat.

You had to be kidding.

Did you truly find his brother that interesting? It wasn’t possible that you actually believed him capable of besting Sir Harwin Strong in hand-to-hand combat. Aegon could hardly stand on his own most of the time.

He would die in a fight like that, and Aemond knew you were clever enough to know that. Still, you said nothing as he continued his rant.

You just kept listening, with a soft smile playing at your lips, as if his idiot brother wasn’t an embarrassment to his bloodline.

“I know for certain that I could have been a knight, the best knight there ever was” Aegon spouted, slurring his words lightly toward their end and earning a soft giggle from you as you imagined what that would look like.

It was a lie.

Aegon didn’t have what it took to be a knight by any stretch of the imagination but your laughter wasn’t so much about what he said. More than anything, it was about Aegon. He was drunk, as he so often was, but in moments like these, it didn’t matter.

This was how he’d been as a boy too, and that was the part that amused you. The slight glimpses of the dreamer he’d been before the world had robbed him of his right to dream.

Before he’d turned into nothing more than a man, seeking out his own pleasures, even at the expense of every other.

“I think I would quite like to see that” you mused, sipping from your own cup, though you weren’t anywhere near as under the influence as he was. You had been nursing the same goblet all night, one cup for Aegon’s seven.

It wasn’t really a challenge, but like he so often did, Aegon took it as one anyway.

“I would venture I could even beat Aemond, if he’d be brave enough to face me,” he added, shooting his brother a look that did sort of alarm you. It was beyond harmless musings about the knights of the realm and famed warriors.

This was a bit more personal, and you didn’t like where it was heading. “I could even cover an eye, make it fair for him”

Naturally, in his drunken state, Aegon’s movements were clumsy and rash but the implications when his left hand came up to cover his eye were just as impactful as they would have been if they’d been delivered sober.

You were silent for a moment, your gaze shifting between the future King’s lopsided grin and the sharp glare of his younger brother.

He knew that he’d been insulted, and you didn’t expect him to forgive it, but shot him a look anyway. It was small, but the message was clear.

You were asking him to ignore his brother’s ill conceived attempt at humor.

“Alright, perhaps you should slow down, Aegon” you suggested finally, resting your hand gingerly on his wrist, all but forcing the cup in his hand back to the table’s surface the moment he once again attempted to lift it to his mouth.

He had already been drinking most of the day and as the sun slowly retreated from the sky, it was certainly time to stop. Your fear for what he’d do if he didn’t was only furthering your insistence.

Not that you could make that clear outright.

“Y/N’s right, it’s about time for everyone to turn in” Alicent agreed, shooting you a thankful glance as she stood from the table, glad that she didn’t have to step in. The King had already gone back to his chambers, and with her leaving, everyone else was sure to follow suit.

Alicent had always been glad for the bond you shared with Aegon, though she didn’t understand it, especially in moments like this.

You were probably the only person who could have ever gotten him to do as you asked without the tantrum that normally followed. “Goodnight, your Grace” you called, watching as she and Helena retreated from the room, leaving you, Aegon and his brother alone in the room.

In the back of your mind, you were aware that Aemond was still watching you, his blue eye unwavering as he studied you, but you didn’t have time to figure out why.

Not before his brother once again pulled your attention to him instead.

“I’m not finished” Aegon tried, bringing the chalice back to his lips only for Aemond to scoff over your shoulder.

He would truly never understand how his brother had managed to survive this long, much less maintain his place in line for the throne. He had no real business being there, and he wouldn’t, if it hadn’t been for his birthright.

Though that would just be among the list of things Aemond didn’t understand, like why you were so determined to take such good care of his pathetic brother, when you got nothing back in return.

Aegon would never show you the same courtesy, not in the way he would, had he been in his place.

“Yes you are, it’s time for bed” you spoke softly to your oldest friend, but your eyes had found their way across the table to Aemond and his now sour attitude.

It was no secret that he and his brother didn’t exactly get along, but you didn’t understand what had happened tonight that was any more irksome to him than any other night. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d insulted him, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Every night with Aegon was essentially the same, and no one was more used to that than Aemond was. Not even you.

“Will you take me?” the firstborn asked, that twisted smirk finding its way onto his face once more as he grinned, never ceasing his drinking even as he spoke about being done drinking.

Normally, one of the servant girls would be tasked with trying to get the future King to his chambers, but between his cheery mood this evening and the silent appreciation you’d gotten from the Queen, you figured you were up to the task tonight.

“If you promise to behave, I will take you” you agreed, finally reaching over to snag his cup from him completely, the stem held delicately between your fingers.

Again, Aemond found himself swallowing back more than just wine as he watched the scene in front of him unfold.

Did the two of you really have to do this every night? Aegon was married after all, and if his mother had anything to say about it, you would be too, soon enough.

It was so far beneath you.

In Aemond’s opinion, his ridiculous brother could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve a moment of your time, but clearly, his believing that wasn’t enough to convince you. At this point, he feared nothing would.

“Are you serious?” he finally called out, not even bothering to hide the ugly tone in his voice. It was practically dripping with emotions, but whether that was jealousy or disgust, he wasn’t sure.

Perhaps it was some mix of both.

“About what?” you hummed, your focus not leaving his brother even as you spoke to Aemond, ignoring the clear upset in his voice in favor of getting the future King to his feet.

Because even when he was speaking directly to you, Aegon was all you could ever give your attention to.

Aegon was basically dead weight when he drank like this, and it was going to be quite the task for you to get him into bed without accident. Not that the servant girls complained, each and every night when they took the job.

They simply did what needed to be done, and you weren’t about to be any different. Those girls deserved a break from his drunken antics for once.

“I could get someone to do that for you. It isn’t your job to make sure he gets to bed” This time, Aemond was sure to monitor the venom in his voice, fully aware that it wasn’t getting him anywhere anyway.

If Aegon had spoken to you like that, you would have stopped everything to assess its origin, but from Aemond, it was almost as if he hadn’t opened his mouth at all.

Why he even bothered at all at this point, he wasn’t sure.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” you assured, draping the blonde’s arm over your shoulders and heading toward the door without a second look at his brother. The second son, the man who dreamed of taking care of you instead of forcing you to care for his every need.

The man who had been hopelessly pining over you for all the years you’d known him, but who you’d never once actually seen.

Left all alone at the table.

~

You were able to move quietly through the halls, finding Aegon much less drunk than you’d originally assumed once he got to his feet. His steps were clunky, and he’d been whisper-yelling in Valyrian at you the entire time, but he wasn’t totally helpless.

He’d had enough to fully give up on the pretense of his birthright, but not enough to be slobbering on your shoulder, which you had enough cause to be thankful for. In the past, he’d not been so gracious.

“Alright, go to sleep now Aegon,” you cooed, pulling the covers up over him and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “In the morning, we can take a walk around the garden”

The only answer to your suggestion came in the form of gentle snoring, which made you smile in spite of yourself as you left the room.

It seemed to you that the only time the prince got any peace was when he slept. He hadn’t always been that way, but as the days passed, you found it harder and harder to ignore the way the world was changing him.

You weren’t blind to the truth.

It was just as obvious to you that Aegon was a disaster as it was to everyone else. You knew that he was a coward and a fool and that the care you had for him was the only thing keeping you from sharing the ire for him that so many others felt.

You knew that, but the truth remained that he was your oldest friend and you loved him for that, despite his many flaws.

You were many things, and loyal seemed to be chief among them, even if sometimes you wondered if your faith in him was misplaced. Would Aegon be a good King? You weren’t sure, but you knew that you would be by his side until the day he proved undeserving.

The Lord’s chamber door closed softly behind you and gave way to a long dark hallway, which you maneuvered expertly. You had taken the walk between your chambers and Aegon’s a thousand times and you knew it like the back of your hand.

Still, you couldn’t account for everything.

For example, you never could have expected to be grabbed from your path until it happened, and you found yourself standing in an adjacent room instead of the long expanse of the hallway. You couldn’t see it that well, with only the moonlight streaming in through the window available to help orient yourself.

It wasn’t an altogether distinctive space at first glance, but it didn’t take you long to place it anyway.

The grasp your kidnapper had on your arms remained, even as the moments ticked by, and while it wasn’t tight or uncomfortable, it gave away the perpetrator in an instant.

Aemond.

No one else was capable of so much selfish aggression while also maintaining such a tight composure. No one else would have cause to take you from the hall, and certainly no one else would have the gull to do so.

Still, for whatever reason, apparently the blonde had decided to snatch you from your normal path and was now just holding you here, a foul look on his usually handsome face.

“Care to explain yourself, my Lord?” you scoffed, removing your arms from his grip as gently as you could, and trying to figure out what could have possibly gotten into him.

It didn’t make any sense.

Never had he attempted something like this before, and you couldn’t work out what was going on, no matter how hard you tried.

“My problem? My problem is that you couldn’t possibly be more of a fool” he started, essentially ignoring your justified response in favor of his own feelings.

He couldn’t watch it anymore.

It was bad enough that his brother was a bumbling idiot without any care for history or culture, or any actual skill. He couldn’t have the throne, the realm, and the affections of you.

That would simply be too much.

Especially when he deserved it so much more. .

“What are you talking about? How much did you have to drink tonight?” you wondered. You were used to Aemond being moody, and he could be unpredictable sometimes but never had he put his hands on you like this. Never had he spoken to you in such a way.

It didn’t make sense, and if you were being honest, you didn’t like it. This was something you wouldn’t have given a second thought coming from Aegon, but here, with Aemond in front of you, it confused you.

Aemond scoffed, clearly not finding your care for his well-being as endearing now that it was aimed at him. Even an hour earlier, he would have been thrilled to have even an ounce of your affection, but not now.

Now, it was almost an insult.

He was so tired of being the second son, and the second in line for everything. Just once, he wanted someone to pick him over his idiot brother.

“Not nearly enough. Perhaps if I drank more, you’d actually look me in the eye”

That got your attention.

You were silent for a moment as you considered his words, and what they could possibly mean in regards to this conversation.

It was an obvious jab at his brother, but it still didn’t help you understand what all this was about and you were torn. You didn’t know how long you were supposed to let this go on or how you were supposed to react.

On one hand, you never would have wanted Aemond to be upset but on the other, you couldn’t exactly explain being alone together in the dark, in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t technically allowed considering that you were both unmarried, and while the Queen was fond of you, you were certain she wouldn’t like this.

You sighed, taking in the distance, or lack therefore, of space between the two of you before you finally broke your silence. “Aemond, enough of this, what has you so upset?”

Your voice was soft as you spoke, hoping to get him to calm down enough to actually speak to you. He had always been the more rational of the brothers and he was certainly better at communicating.

It was one of your favorite things about him, but right now, he sounded like Aegon and you didn’t like that one bit either.

You put up with Aegon out of care for him and hope for the kind young boy you had once known him to be, but Aemond was better than that. You enjoyed his company, and the time you spent together was time you treasured.

You didn’t understand why he was so angry with you tonight.

“I don’t understand why you love him when he treats you so poorly. What has he ever done to deserve your affections?” he wondered, his tone matching yours almost instantly.

It hadn’t been his intention to yell at you, and it certainly wasn’t something he wanted to do, but one man could only take so much. At some point, he had to make it so that you saw who he was, and what he had to offer you.

Of course, Aemond would have preferred a heartfelt declaration of his feelings, in a room where he could actually see the sparkling of your eyes instead of this, but it was no matter.

Even if it had to be like this, little more than a hushed whisper under the cover of darkness, all that mattered was that you heard him.

…and what choice did you have after something like that? What had Aegon done to deserve your affections? You weren’t sure.

Granted, if you’d had time to think about it, you may have had a reason. You may have been able to explain the many reasons you’d chosen him as your closest friend but right now, you couldn’t think of a single thing.

All you could focus on was the way Aemond was peering down at you with so much intensity and the way his right hand had slowly snuck back up to your wrist at your side, fiddling with the fabric trim of your sleeve.

All you could see, and feel, was him in a way you’d never experienced before.

“I don’t know,'' you muttered finally, feeling a bit pathetic as you willed your brain to work properly. You had never once been stunned into silence by the presence of another person before, and it didn’t make any sense.

What had changed? You didn’t know. Apparently, in this moment, you didn’t know much of anything but instead of mocking you as Aegon would have, Aemond simply nodded.

That was what he thought.

You were so used to being devoted to his brother, and had been for so many years, that you didn’t even know why that was. You were so busy constantly doting on him, and dealing with his every thought and feeling that you didn’t realize it was meaningless.

“I could be so much more for you, if you’d only let me” Aemond’s words surrounded you the moment he spoke them, and like the crashing of waves, you realized what this was.

He wasn’t angry at all.

Aemond was hurt.

All this time, he was under the impression that the reason you remained by Aegon’s side was because of a longing, forever to be unfulfilled, but that couldn’t be more wrong.

You did not love Aegon, and it was not Aegon who made you feel as if you could breathe for the first time in all your life.

That title belonged to another, though he had clearly been just as blind to the truth as you had before now.

“I do care much for Aegon. He’s one of my oldest friends, but I have no desire to be with him,” you clarified, feeling the need to get that out in the open first and foremost. Getting a bit braver, you took his wandering hand in your own, giving it a testing squeeze.

It was so strange, knowing someone so well and not at all, all in the same moment.

Aemond tensed slightly at the touch, almost as if you’d struck him, largely because this wasn’t what he’d expected at all. In truth, he hadn’t had much time to consider anything at all regarding this conversation, but he never would have predicted this, not with all the time in the world.

“What do you desire?” he asked, his tone barely audible and inconceivably small as he tried to wrap his mind around how he’d gotten to this point.

You, the one he’d always dreamed of, were so close and yet still so far away. He felt as if he were to breathe, he may ruin it all, and that just wasn’t worth the risk.

Gingerly, you collected your thoughts, for once deciding to let your own desires out way those of everyone else.

Aegon didn’t matter, the opinions of the nobility didn’t matter, and really, Aemond didn’t either. In this moment, all that mattered was you and what you truly desired, stripped bare of all other things.

“I quite think I’d like to be cared for, for a while” you hummed, your voice equal parts certain and wavering as you tried to take a role you’d never known a day in your life.

If Aemond meant as he said, he would take care of you and that was something you desperately wanted. You just weren’t used to asking for the things you wanted, or even, needed. It wasn’t something someone of your standing had ever known.

…But, perhaps it was time to change all that.

[mochinomnoms]

i remember once i almost made a project about mushrooms for school but in the end chose to do one about frogs. THE POINT IS, imagine yuu actually being a fan of mushrooms but being lowkey about it and mentioning doing a project about them in a passing conversation and ptm jade just knowing he chose the right mate

Fun fact mushrooms actually scare me they look too much like flesh and feel weird and i also don't like those hyperlapse videos of them growing because it looks like flesh but i like the aesthetic of mushrooms and of course jade so i must suffer. Also this is the mug mentioned in the story, I own it!

Epel was carving an apple for Sebek into the shape of a dragon, as Sebek was still fascinated at Epel's skill, and Epel was happy to show off when asked. And an apple was a healthy treat to go with lunch, one that Vil had allowed and that Sebek approved for himself as a part of a knight's ideal lunch.

“Don't forget the horns!” Sebek pointed as Epel started the head, the latter huffing and kicking at his friend's leg.

“I know! I'm trying to be careful so it doesn't break!”

A comfortable silence resumed as they both focused on the knife slicing through the apple like butter.

“Epel! Sebek!” Both jumped, Epel letting out a choked yelped as he noticed his knife dig deeper than he intended. Both sighed in relief as he carefully slid his knife out with the start of the horns still intact.

“Aaah! Prefect!” Epel growled, turning towards you as you sat across the table from him with a bundle of paper in your hands.

“Don't scare me like that! I almost broke the horn!”

You smiled apologetically and winced as Sebek laid into you.

“Indeed! You of all people should no better than to interrupt Epel as he carves the Young Lord's image!”

You perked, leaning over to see Epel's progress. He'd carved out the basic shape of a dragon's body and wings, and had been working on the head and horns.

“Oh, is it Malleus's dragon form? Aaaa! That's so cool that you can do that Epel—oh wait! I wanted to show you something!”

You excitedly, yet very carefully, set down the pile of paper in your hands. The two realized that there was something in it as you unwrapped the paper. Practically vibrating, you picked up the ceramic item in the palm of your hands and presented it to them.

“Ta-da! It's a mushroom!” True to your word, in your hands was a ceramic mushroom. The base white with ridges and a handle like a mug, and the top a bright red with white spots.

“But, not just a mushroom. It's also…a mug!” You grab the red top of the mushroom and simply picked it up to show it off.

Like a child with a new toy, you kept placing the top back on and back off, looking at the two for a reaction.

“Really?” Unfortunately, Epel was less than amused.

“What? It's cool!”

Sebek shook his head in disapproval, resuming watching Epel as he started back on the dragon's head.

“It's a mug that looks like a mushroom, how is that exactly impressive?”

A soft whine left your throat as you pouted, cradling the mug to your chest.

“It's just cool, it looks like a fly agaric mushroom! Sam had other ones too!” You took out your phone and started swiping to your photos. “This one looks like a crimini mushroom, this one is just a green one, but it's still cool! And all their tops can be removed, aaaand Sam was selling mushroom coffee to go along with it—”

“Isn't one of the Leech brothers known for his fascination with fungi?” Sebek asked exasperatedly. “Which one was it?”

“Jade.” Epel answered, pausing to look at you from the corner of his eye and smirked. “Why don't you go show off to your boyf—”

“Shut up!” You crush some of the paper in your hands and toss it at his head. Epel softly giggled as it bounced off his head.

“I'm just teasin', besides he'd probably be more than happy to hear you rant about mushrooms. You do it all the time.”

You crossed your arms, huffing, “But I want to tell you guys, you're my friends!”

An evil smirk appeared on your lips, before quickly disappearing as you made a sad face.

“You know Sebek, Malleus would listen to me talk about mushrooms all the time.”

A wistful sigh left your mouth as you continued. “I would listen to him talk about gargoyles, and he would listen to me about mushrooms. He loved it too, he'd be so sad to know that no one is listening to his friend as attentively as he did.”

Epel rolled his eyes, watching as Sebek paled and internally panic. He kept focusing on his carved, counting under his breath.

“3, 2, 1…”

“Tell me all about your strange mushroom mug and drink! If just for the Young Master's sake!”

You brighten and smiled, immediately going on a tangent about the coffee you found at Sam's.

Unbeknownst to you, Jade at a nearby table had been listening in, smiling in bliss as you described the benefits of reishi mushrooms in place of espresso.

“What are you smiling about, Jade?” Floyd asked, popping a shrimp tempura into his mouth.

Jade sighed, twirling his pasta onto his fork. “Nothing in particular…”

“Just thinking about my pearl, and how wonderful they are…”

It was a good thing most students steered clear of their table, otherwise there would be a wild amount of rumor about who his 'pearl' was.

Floyd peered over Jade's shoulder, watching as you animatedly waved your hands about.

“Hmm? What are they talking about?”

“Mushrooms~”

Floyd cringed at his brother, both because of the mention of mushrooms, and the lovesick look on his face.

“You're both so fucking weird, match made in heaven I guess.”

[walkingzombiegirl]

"If you go, you'll die." She said seriously, staring deep into your eyes while the room around you both stood still. "And if I roll a twenty?" Ellie blinked, looking down at her sheets before peering up at you through her lashes.

"Best scenario... it lets you pass." She squinted her eyes, a promise of something else behind her words. "Any other number will kill me unless I leave?" Ellie nodded her head at your question, watching you pick up the hot pink sparkly dice with little to no confidence.

The gears turned in your mind while her emerald eyes rested softly on yours. No matter what move you made, she'd end up giving you an extra life, or an extra chance. Call it a lovers bonus because no matter how many dungeon masters groaned when they heard her joke about the endless lives you held, she never seemed to retire it.

You then rolled the dice, taking the chance and crossing your polished fingers muttering out a few 'pleases' along the way.

A perfect... nineteen.

"You've gotta be kidding me." She watched you groan, head tilting back as you kicked your foot out. "Just kill me already."

"The orc yells in anger at your pure act of disrespect..." She began creeping across the floor, slowly rounding the coffee table towards your seated body, "He sees it as an act of battle, and raising his weapon, he swings down!"

She jumps on you, your laughter intertwining as she began to tickle your sides, "And chops your head off in one swing."

"Not my head! Pl-please!" Tears pricked your eyes as you tried to push her hands away, your cheeks aching from the grin etched cross your lips. "Please, I'm too pretty to die!" "The orc roars, watching your poor, pretty decapitated head roll away."

You tried again and again to roll away from her, shaking your head.

"I should've flirted with him!" Ellie gasped, almost 'offended' at your harem. "And cheat on your totally not fictional knight girlfriend? You're awful at this." "It would've been fake! She would understand!" Ellie shook her head, pretending to look across the table at her notes. "It says right there she would've banished you."

She continued to rant, and as you gazed up at her from the floor, each freckle making an appearance in the lamplight. You wondered if you and her were like this in every universe. Happy. Together. Whether knights, aliens or just like this. Soulmates.

Spoiler: You're not.

[ivystoryweaver]

With You part 12

<-prev next-> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: You and your husband adjust to life with Jake in the mix and Marc gone quiet.

Pairings: Steven Grant x gn!reader, Jake Lockley x gn!reader, Marc Spector x gn!reader. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3k

Content: fluff, some angst, spicy times (more under the cut)

Warnings: cursing, references to Marc's trama/past, food prep and talk about food (I know this can be triggering for some) sex implied, foreplay, handjob, but language is not overly explicit and is gn. Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.

Steven arrived home from work, having narrowly escaped a London downpour. Setting his bag down right inside the door, he shed his damp jacket and kicked off his shoes, thinking Marc might pipe up and scold him at any moment.

Marc was the neat one. Like military neat. Like, don't leave a mess or mom will make you regret it, neat. Like erase your existence from your alter...from the authorities...from the world, neat.

Steven was the messy one. Scatterbrained, he'd been called by a boss or two. It wasn't so much scatterbrained as it was a bit of unaware brain sharing.

But he hadn't shared much of anything with Marc lately. Not since Khonshu had stripped him of his armor mid-fight and almost gotten him killed. That was two weeks ago.

Padding over to his fish tank, Steven placed his hands on his knees, bending forward to take a look at his tiny little school. There were four fishies now, which almost seemed appropriate. One for Steven, Marc, you and now Jake.

Narrowing his eyes, Steven scrutinized the colorful little creatures before reaching for some fish food.

"All right then, time to eat," he chimed. Dumping a few flakes into the water, he smiled at their eager nibbles, until his eyes caught his own reflection.

"You there?" He asked, not actually addressing anyone, but definitely thinking of Marc. "No? ...didn't think so."

With a sigh, Steven sauntered to the kitchen to start the kettle. The flat was dark - the thunderstorm outside made sure of it, and he worried, for a moment, about you trudging home in these conditions.

"Should be alright," he mused to himself, the way he was prone to do. "Not due home for a couple hours yet."

He stopped short when he saw a note on the kitchen counter. It was not unlike the several notes you had left for Jake, on the bedside table. Same envelope at least.

"What's this, then?" he mused, picking it up.

The letters, displayed in your handwriting, spelled 'Marc'.

"Hm. Left you a note. Best come read it," Steven tried to tell his alter. Hearing nothing, he chewed on his lip for a moment before turning the envelope over in his hand.

The contents really did belong to Marc, but Steven felt that maybe had had the best chance of actually communicating with him. So he opened the letter and began to read aloud.

"Hope you don't mind, but I'm going to be reading this," Steven said to no one, because apparently no one was listening. "If you're not going to look at it, you should at least hear it."

'Dear Marc, I can't remember the last time we've gone so long without seeing one another, or at least speaking. Even on your longest missions, it never felt like this. If I could go back to the last time I saw you huddled on the kitchen floor, I would have never let you out of my arms. I would have never ranted about what Jake should do, or how much I hate Khonshu. I would've just held on and told you the truth over and over - that you're everything. That it didn't matter to me if you wore the suit again without telling me because I trust you, and because you can make your own decisions. I've always trusted your judgment. You are the real Moon Knight and you had every right to put on the suit if you felt like you wanted or needed to. I would have told you I support you 100%, that you're needed, that you're loved - that my anger and my bright ideas about how we should march right up to Khonshu and punch his bony beak didn't matter, not when you were feeling so shut out, so displaced, so thrown backwards in time, made to feel any less than. You are not less than Steven. You are not less than Jake. Or me. And you sure as hell are not less than an ancient deity who needs a modern day human body to roam the streets of London. It is he who needs you. And I need you. I need you, Marc. I need to see you again so badly, I can't even breathe sometimes. Not at night, after Steven falls asleep, not in the shower sometimes, or at work, when someone asks after you. I need you so much. Please, this isn't about making you feel guilty. You're my husband. You are the love of my life. I know you're resting now. I know you're taking the time you need. Steven is taking good care of you. But when you're ready, please, please come back to me. I love you so much.'

Running a hand over his chin, Steven folded the letter and put it back where he found it. Peering at his reflection in the microwave, Steven waited...hoping...

But it was quiet.

The next night, you made it home first. Steven had spoiled you rotten the previous, stormy evening. He claimed he was treating you to some warm soup and a hot bath because you were drenched when you arrived home.

But you knew it was because he read your letter and wanted to cheer you up. In fact, you believed that Steven missed Marc too. They didn't always co-front - you typically were only with one of them at a time, but they did talk all the time, and what you had sworn to Marc one afternoon on the rooftop was true: he was Steven's best friend in all the world.

So, a comforting bath and cuddles in bed made you both feel worlds better.

Tonight you wanted to show Steven a little love right back. It was really too bad that you found yourself elbow deep in making vegan fajitas when you heard the front door, because you desperately wanted a big hug.

"I'm in here, babe!" You called, dripping your way over to the sink to wash up.

Steven would have normally spouted off a greeting, two terms of endearment and one fun fact by the time he reached you, but as you turned to see him leaning against the door frame, you only heard the sound of your name...in an American accent.

Your heart rate tripled - your face flamed hot...then you saw your husband's dark curls were covered by a flat cap.

Holy shit. "Jake?"

"Hola," he winked, folding his arms over his chest. Noticing your apparent distress - and automatically assuming he was the cause, the corners of his mouth turned downward.

"Mi amor?" He questioned, his eyes going wide like a child getting in trouble.

"Jake!" You breathed, rushing up to throw your arms around him.

His body sagged in relief, melting into yours until he found the strength to wrap his bigger, stronger arms around your frame.

"Oh my god, oh my god," you gasped, gripping him desperately. "You're here, I can't believe it."

Surprised but thrilled at how relieved and happy you seemed, Jake nuzzled the spot right above your ear, running his hands up and down your back soothingly.

"I hope it's all right," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your ear.

Easing back, you gazed up into his deep brown eyes. "What do you mean? Of course it's all right."

Chewing on his lip worriedly, he shrugged one shoulder adorably, still holding on to you. "It's not a bad time, is it? You're not...supposed to be with Steven? Or anyone?"

You melted. "Baby, it's your body. If you're here, you're here. You don't need my permission." Gently caressing his cheek, you shook your head in wonder. "I just - I don't think I've ever seen you before midnight."

Glancing down at his outfit, you realized you didn't recognize his clothing as Steven or Marc's. Your heart swelled, seeing this new piece of him - a faded, denim jacket over a striped t-shirt.

"And I've never seen you wear anything except Steven's PJ's or your driving uniform," you added, brushing your hand over his.

"Or nothing at all," he cheekily added, biting his lip, waiting for your reaction.

You grinned like a fool, giggling as he swooped you up into a tender kiss. He sampled your lips one at a time, sucking gently, taunting you - until you licked hotly into his mouth, sinking your fingers into his curls. This knocked the cap off his head, which made him growl in response.

Two strong hands dragged your thighs around his waist and in a few long strides, he planted you on the countertop with an 'umph!'

"Sorry," he murmured, his forehead touching yours affectionately as he squeezed your hips, settling right between your spread thighs.

"Was that an offer?" you whispered, referring to him wearing nothing at all. Peppering his smiling lips with little kisses and driving him absolutely crazy, you added, "Is that why you're here?"

Easing back slowly, he swallowed. "I just wanted to see you," he earnestly admitted, a little uncertainty creasing his forehead. "I thought...maybe we could have dinner together. Is that okay?"

He was pretty new to this whole...you thing. Being married...sort of. Making an effort to...be with you. And not just sleep beside you. So he wasn't entirely sure if he was barging in to a special evening with Steven. He also wondered if you were hoping he was Marc. Actually, he was pretty certain that the surprise on your face when he first called your name was you mistaking him for Marc, for just a second.

"Come here," you softly cooed, pulling on his jacket to drag his mouth back to yours. Brushing your lips over his, you used your legs to urge his body flush against your center. "Yes, we can have dinner together..." which reminded you - you were mid-fajita prep when Jake arrived.

Tapping him cutely on the nose, you kissed his mouth one more time. "To be continued."

As you carried on with food prep, a different energy sizzled in the kitchen with Jake, most notably because he was a different person. Marc cooked with you plenty of times. In fact, he probably cooked more often than anyone and he was pretty good at it.

Cooking with Marc was precise, detailed - he knew what he wanted to do and you willingly played a supporting role. The two of you moved with practiced synchrony, like a well-rehearsed dance.

With Steven, it was all about experimentation. As a vegan, Steven was used to substituting ingredients and making things up on the fly. He also left a huge, hilarious mess behind, and typically ended up wearing a portion of his recipe.

For this reason, you had bought Steven an apron that said, 'Team Herbivore' which made Marc roll his eyes every time he saw it. Not because of the slogan but because it had three cute little veggies with smiling faces on it.

With Jake, there was no precise exchange of places, nor an experimental mess. Jake moved right with you from behind, loosely caging you in, picking up a spoon you would set down, stirring while you reached for a knife. You chopped and he added spices. He didn't even ask.

Once your hand was knife free and scraping veggies into the skillet, he was nuzzling into your neck and humming.

You lost your concentration a few times because he was just so close.

"This okay?" He would ask periodically, slipping his hand around your waist to sway with you.

"Where did you learn to cook?" You giggled, melting at the sound of his apparent singing voice?

He paused, going a little stiff.

Hoping you hadn't hit a nerve, you turned around slowly to find him smiling wistfully. "I used to watch my mom."

Your eyes widened as you tried to figure out what to say. Marc had never mentioned cooking with his mom, or her really cooking much at all. He had mentioned going to bed hungry though.

"I know...how she was," Jake softly interjected into your buzzing thoughts. "Especially with Marc." His gaze dropped as he eased back a step. "But sometimes, she would sing in Spanish. And cook. Sometimes I helped."

Reaching for his hand, you gently squeezed. "I didn't know you guys spoke Spanish until we met," you admitted, trying your best to connect a little more with Jake. "That sounds like a wonderful memory."

"One of the few," he sighed. Almost shyly meeting your eyes, he smiled warmly. "I've never told anyone that - or anything...about her."

Using your hold on his hand to pull him closer, you slid one arm around his waist. "You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

"Mm-hmm," he hummed back, nodding over your shoulder toward the sizzling skillet. "Better stir, mi vida."

Jake's seasonings were totally on point and dinner was delicious. The two of you cleaned up the kitchen and headed to the living room to relax. You noticed Jake sat a little awkwardly on the sofa - in total contrast to the smooth, panther like movements you were accustomed to, late at night, in your bedroom.

"Jake, you okay?" You asked him, grabbing your current reading material and settling down beside him.

He nodded unconvincingly. This was wildly foreign to him. Jake only did a few things in this world: protect, kill when he had to, serve Khonshu, sleep and fuck. He didn't even eat that often - his alters usually saw to most of the body's physical care.

"What...what do you do? At night? What should I do?" He adorably asked.

You almost laughed, it was so cute, but you didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"Well...Marc and I play card games or do puzzles. We watch baseball games or old action movies - "

"You like baseball?" He asked, his eyes lighting up.

"I do," you confirmed with a smile. "The time change is a little weird from here to Chicago or New York, but we watch some afternoon games, or we watch older games."

He nodded, absorbing the information as you went on.

"Steven and I read together, or he reads to me. We like documentaries too. Sometimes I help him study for school." You chuckled, wondering if this all sounded boring to such a night owl like Jake. "Sometimes we have word search races - like, to see who can finish the fastest."

"I do crosswords in my car sometimes," Jake shrugged, as if he totally understood the appeal. "Do you like crosswords?"

"Mm-hmm," you grinned.

It was on. The two of you found a crossword website online and printed out two copies of the same puzzle. Turning on your phone's stopwatch, the race was on.

Jake kicked your ass.

"Let's go again," he chimed, finding another crossword on the laptop. "Loser has to take of their clothes."

You gasped, pretending to be offended. "Mr. Lockley," you playfully scolded.

Hearing you call him Mister anything had him shutting the laptop and scooping you up in his arms, almost racing to the bedroom. "Fuck it," he chuckled. "I surrender, I'll take off my clothes."

You howled with laughter as he deposited you on the bed and kicked off his shoes. Next came his socks - then he went for his belt. Shit, he wasn't kidding.

Crawling backwards on the bed, you settled back to enjoy the show, propped up on a pile of pillows.

Jake had peeled off his jacket while you were cooking, so once his pants were loose, he tugged off his t-shirt. You licked your lips at the way his abdomen flexed at the motion, and almost mewled at the way the shirt's collar mussed his curls. Then he paused, checking for a reaction before removing his pants.

"Don't let me stop you...Mr. Lockley," you teased, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

The corner of his mouth curled as he pushed his pants and boxers all the way down. Leaning forward to kick them off his feet, a loose curl fell across his forehead.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him naked and ready for you. Climbing onto the bed on his hands and knees, he hovered over you, reveling in the way your eyes devoured him.

"Your turn," he purred, teasing you with a nibble to your lips.

Running your hands all over his smooth skin, you felt between his legs, teasing his length with your fingertips.

Hissing in pleasure, he more than willingly allowed you to have your way, licking wickedly into your mouth while grinding into your palm.

"Do you really read and study all the time, mi vida?" He groaned out, rolling his hips in time with your strokes. "Or is this more your idea of fun?"

"Definitely this," you breathed against his mouth. "A fucking lot of this."

Spending the evening with Jake was a balm to your tender heart. You had seen him since the night Khonshu healed him - since your first night together - but only late at night, for a quick conversation, or for a repeat performance.

So spending an entire, domestic evening with him, ending up between the sheets for hours, before falling asleep draped across his naked body - you were in heaven. Maybe Jake really was going to ease into your life - actually be in a relationship with you.

Your heart swelled with love for your husband - for all the lovely, wonderful parts of the system he was. You would have to grab some extra ingredients from the store and plan another vegan fajita night for Steven, since Jake enjoyed the first batch. Not that Steven minded, angel that he was.

Which only left Marc.

Even with your heart so full and alive, there was still a gaping hole. As always, you tried not to put the other two in the middle of any situation, or treat them like messengers to try to get to Marc. But they were more than ready with updates.

Steven had confessed to reading the letter, and trying to talk out loud to Marc several times a day. Jake said the same, finally asking you if maybe it was his fault that Marc was so absent - so silent.

The three of you agreed that Marc just needed some time. As always, you decided not to take it personally. This was about him.

You beat Steven home again the following evening, and this time, waiting on the kitchen counter, was an envelope bearing your name.

next->

@stormydaysxx @laaundromat @kindlover @deezisnotreal @stevenknightmarc @imonmykneessir @marvelouslovely-barnes @evilbubu @usualsworld @rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra @this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face @avengersinitiative2012 @lockleywife @poppyflower-22 @thursdaywritings @scoliobean @peregrine-nation @local-mr-frog @ren-ni @valkyrie05x @randomhoex @tsukkie-daisuke @flyestvenustrap @spxctorsslxt @cicithemess2000  @bitchotine 

dividers by saradika

[ak319]

Yan Princess x fem reader

(Warnings: Possessive, stalker, betrayal, )

Your name in the story is Deniz

Part I

(Your POV)

"But Clara what we can do is ---with the help of the Mayor perhaps negotiate with them. I think they would agree, I mean that family loves doing charity don't they?"

"Yup, they do, Leo. But not behind the scenes. When the camera is off, they are just another ordinary, rich, money-hungry family." My boss Clara sighed for the umpteenth time and took her glasses off. I sat quietly on the sofa listening to their banter for the past ten minutes.

Our organisation, Redwood High Social Work was now facing what seemed like a dead end regarding the 1 acre of land that was designated to be made into a proper field for sports, not only for Redwood but for Knights High which was affiliated to Redwood and was a school for Special Ed. They really deserve that ground. Every kid deserves a good sport and imagine the numerous events we can have in the field. But somehow everything isn't so easy. We received an email last night which was apparently from the palace! Like THE PALACE! We thought that it was a prank but in the morning the Mayor's secretary sent us one clarifying that yes, it was from the palace. And what it stated was that and I quote

''....the field itself isn't the issue but the forest behind it is the property of the Royal family. God forbid none of us would want anyone harmed if there happens to be any hunting activity taking place. Keeping this in mind, it is therefore requested that your honourable organization reconsider its plans and if any compensation is desired, contact the number XXXX...."

"Just read this posh ass shit. I cannot believe the Mayor ditched us like that." Clara snarled flailing her arms once more making Leo rub his temples. I noticed a few gray hairs on the back of his head. Poor guy really be getting old early due to Clara.

"He didn't ditch us Clara. He did what any person would do, listen to the higher-ups. DUH?!"

"Higher ups?! Seriously Leo? Where were these higher-ups when we officially signed ownership documents and paid for the fucking land levelling equipment?! Do you think they gonna refund me? NO! Even if they do it will be half of the amount. Those were the school's funds LEO! The principal will get chewed on by the parents and in both schools! God....I don't---I can't just wrap my fucking mind around this whole scenario. That forest is literally at the edge of the field. The fences have been already built around 2 years ago. There are no reports of any animal attacks. And it's not like we are not going to monitor our children. Do we look stupid to them?! And I swear Leo and Deniz...they don't own that forest. I checked it a million times. Nobody goes there but oh now they do? Kiss my ass! "

I took a deep breath and put down my laptop down on the table before walking over to her desk.

"Maybe, Leo is right. We can only sort this out via a meeting."

"Meeting with who Deniz? I see only one solution. That is to sue them. Imma sue them, Imma sue the mayor too. Like where is he now? Huh? Did he just use us as some campaign pawns? Did you see his fucking website? WE ARE THERE! BUT NOW LOOK WE DON'T HAVE THE FUCKING GROUND. Imma sue his ass." She ran her hand through her curly black locks in anger. I definitely can understand what she is going through. Frustration. Anger. Sadness. But we all need to think instead of rant.

"I did see it, Clara. But you need to calm down. We need to come up with something solid. And suing the royal family? Can we even do that?" I looked at Leo who shrugged.

"See? We are not making any sense right now. What is done is done. So, I was thinking like---we can use the power of media as well. Why don't I call in Alfie and get your words on the front page tomorrow? He is looking for some hot tips as well these days." Alfie was Clara's cousin and a pretty seasoned journalist too.

"Get my words on what exactly?. We need to-" She breathed in for once before continuing "We need to have a chat with both of these parties first, Deniz. Go and keep reaching the Mayor's office. We will get rid of him first. Leo, go inform Knights about this fuckery but feed them some words of hope as well like 'we are working on it and it will be sorted', gotcha? Also, ask them to keep it to themselves. I don't want any parent drama."

"I already sent e-mails to the Mayor's office. Also what about Ma'am Layla?" I referred to our school's principal.

"I'll explain this to her myself." With that, everybody got to work. Honestly never thought that a degree in Science in Policy could lead to such a problematic job. I thought everything was going to be cookies and rainbows. But meh. People ruin everything. And I mean some assholes and I know exactly who this might be. But I need to be calm and focused right now.

Anyway, why is the Mayor even siding with the Royals --- since when are they interfering in the government?. Just as I was thinking this I got a notification on my phone. YES! An email from Emilia, Mayor Alex's secretary.

It said that Carla is invited to a meeting tomorrow. Mhm. This is good news then. Better go tell her.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

Fast forward to tomorrow, we were heading to the Mayor's abode. Not his office. His home. Which was odd. It was only me, as I was the assistant to the project manager, and Carla herself, the project manager/organization head, and the driver.

"So don't worry about the talking I'll-"

"You will handle it. I know. Just don't use the word sue ten times in a row and we will be good."

"Deniz, come on. Everybody loses their marbles sometimes. Didn't you once break everything in your room just because your food order was cancelled due to rain or something like that?" She whispered to me about my meltdown. My eyes widened in embarrassment, making her laugh.

"I assume you the most humble Carla, never experienced the emotion "hanger". And guess what--I had my movie ready to be played and my pad changed. " I whispered the last part to her as well. "So yeah, my cosy time was ruined. I would wage a war for that."

"Pft. Imagine you being a Queen. You would wage war everyday then."

"Damn right." Although her words brought an uncomfortable feeling and bitter thoughts in my mind making me shiver but I remained composed.

We bantered and went through some points before finally reaching our destination. I said some prayers as I got out of the car wishing that everything goes smoothly and this gets sorted out today. Glancing over at Carla's blank look as she scanned the front door, I could tell she was hoping the same.

Soon the Mayor greeted us in his formal attire and led us to his veranda where someone else was present too. An old man but his poise screamed of experience and wisdom. His eyes seemed to smile when we entered but the rest of his face was stoic. He was introduced to us as Richard, the queen's butler of some sorts. Just great.

The discussion started and it was revealed by "MR. RICHARD" that,

"As a matter of fact that forest is a part of royal treasury but since this---trifle has started, the King has with open heart decided to hand it to your organization, but..."

All of three of us leaned and waited for the next words out of his mouth. God , he spoke so slow.

"only when Princess Kade returns back from Harvard." My heart dropped.

"And why is that?" Carla's blurted out, in favor of mine and Alex's curiosity.

"Because it is accorded in her name. Her property , her signatures." He spoke looking directly at Carla.

Alex sighed, "Well, this is still a good start. When will she be back?"

"In a month or so, sir. But don't worry, the field will be handed to you as soon as she arrives. She doesn't hesitate when it comes to her duties," Richard eyed me and I held his gaze as fiercely as I could.

That was the moment when my doubts were confirmed and hardened. I know exactly who is behind this and why. But for now, I think Carla's smile means a call for celebration.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

(Your POV)

I stepped into my apartment and took a long shower which I had been desiring all day. But at the back of my mind I had a feeling that my feelings of anger and frustration instead of subsiding were about to explode more and that is what happened when I sat down on my sofa with my phone. A call from an unknown number. I picked it up but didn't say anything waiting for the other side to speak.

"Hello? Deniz?"

"Fuck you, Kade! FUCK YOU AND YOUR FAMILY! YOU RICH SNOBBY BASTARD! YOU CREEP! WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE! You have dug your claws EVERYWHERE HAVEN'T YOU!? How low can you go? Huh?! PATHETIC!"

"Listen, please. I beg you to listen. If you are so keen to figure out that I did it, why don't you see WHY I did it?! Even these curses that you oh so charmingly bestowed upon me right now, you wouldn't do it Deniz if I hadn't done something, because you don't consider me even worthy of your hate Deniz. And here I am, begging for an ounce of affection-

"I didn't ask you to beg!" Her words don't ever miss a chance to rile me up. Why can't this delusional woman just leave me alone?

"You study at Harvard for God's sake yet you cannot--decipher the meaning of a simple word called NO. Why can't you accept-

"I WON'T ACCEPT IT! EVER!. BECAUSE IT'S BASELESS! Absolutely baseless! I refuse to accept it because I know deep down you don't mean-" She took a deep breath before continuing and I could also hear the sound of wind in the background. Almost as if something was hitting a hard surface and I instantly remembered. 'Yeah of course how did I forget she is using a fucking payphone ever since I blocked all her numbers.' How did I even manage to make her go to these lengths? Should I even blame myself? My therapist said no. Yeah. No Deniz, this isn't your fault. Don't you dare take it upon yourself for the crazy stunts of this bastard princess. Should I blame that whole match? That day, that event, that night?

It happened when I was in high school, part of the girl's cricket team in Southampton. After a match against another school and my striking performance as an outclass bowler, being responsible for taking out 3, star batswomen of the rival team, a girl from the audience approached me. Tall, reeking of elegance and mystery. My team captain, Reece whom I was standing beside at the time with some other teammates seemed to know the Princess as we would come to know later on. They both met through mutual acquaintances at a basketball match and were now very close friends. One thing to mention is that I had a thing for Reece due to her caring, charming and dominating presence on the field. I mean come on, she was quite a looker too with her sharp features and those green calculating eyes, her height, and golden brown hair which she kept mostly in a man bun. I always felt shy for no reason when we all would work out in the school gym and she would always come to scold my posture or cause my already pounding heart to nearly blast out of my chest helping me with her muscled arms and hands. LIKE WOMAN SORRY IF I AIN'T AS BUILT AS YOU! I wanted to scream "Hey! Stop treating me as a baby or if am weaker" But man come on, deep down I loved her care and touch. Can you blame my ass? Anyway, I digress. Back to that "After Match Moment".

Reece introduced her as a longtime childhood buddy and kept her background mostly vague and we were already exhausted after the match so didn't pay any heed anyway but mostly all of the team recognized her as the princess of the fucking land that we were standing on. Even though I was drenched in sweat and overwhelmed by the crowd — mostly parents and teachers and now a fucking princess standing in front, I still noticed Kade's lingering gaze on me. At the time, it was somewhat off-putting, but I decided to let it go. Little did I know how I would be drawn into such a heartless game, not only by Kade but also by Reece. I had trusted Reece as a mentor and a friend, and I even harboured a special affection for her that I never disclosed to anyone or dared to confess to her. Reece was the type of person who had many admirers, and my own insecurities made me feel like I could never compete. She could have anyone she wanted, so I focused on my studies and cricket instead.

After the meeting with Kade, Reece initiated plans for an outing which was very rare for her to do so. It was something Hana did, our wicketkeeper as she was the cheery one, the sunshine and the glue of the team. Others didn't seem to notice Reece's sudden change in demeanour, but I did as whenever we went to Reece's house or somewhere out, she seemed to avoid me in a way that is difficult to describe. Like she would be talking to me but not looking at me?. Also, Kade seemed to always show up and eventually became part of our friend group. Thank God she wouldn't stare at me as she did that night but still lingered around me. I always felt strange when we played cricket in front of her and even with her. She always was eager to ball herself when I used to bat and Reece let her do it first , every time. Kade once fixed my posture when I was batting. Like, excuse me?? I am a professional here. I know how to bat. Are you fucking kidding me?! I wanted to smash the bat on her head. Everyone except Reece thought that it was condescending for her to do that. And the fact that she touched me while doing it.

Bruh.

I too lost my shit at that time and did tell her politely that I know how to bat to which she apologised with a smile and backed off.

Reece straight up once "little sister zoned me" in front of everyone at her cabin during a BBQ and both she and Kade laughed as if it was the funniest shit they ever heard.

What shocked me most was Reece's behaviour few days after that. She really took the role of 'big sister' too seriously. She paid extra attention to me as if babying me and often I would find goodie bags in my locker or doorstep after practices and matches. I was...honestly just fed up. Like what fucking drugs are you on , Captain? First, you ignore me and then--this? Calling me and making me your sister? Giving me gifts? Like it took me so much to bury my feelings about her and she is "platonically love-bombing" me?

One day I had enough and texted her respectfully that I don't want all of this attention and I just wanted to be treated like a teammate as before. And asked her if she---likes me by any chance and she is doing all this to impress me. (Which is the one I hoped at that time of my youth and dumbassery that she would agree with and confess her feelings) Fate had other plans and hell broke loose when she rang me and informed me.

'Look, it's me giving you all that stuff but I ain't the one buying 'em', Dizzy. It's Kade, well she likes you and um--so ever since she told me about her crush on you, she sends me these to give em to you- and Dizzy---I can't say no to my friend ....who is also royalty. You should try to understand. She really really likes you. Trust me. She's a bit--aloof when it comes to expressing it. Especially since it's you." She chuckled lightly. "Honestly, you here made a princess scared of you, be proud of yourself...cuz Kade ain't easy to intimidate.."

That was when my whole world collapsed. So all of this ---bullshit--confusion--and- God...

After that, I confronted Kade face to face as Reece called her to school one day. She remained steadfast and pleaded to give her a chance but I was deep in anger and felt played. Not to forget the fact that dating a fucking royalty was not the thing I was even imagining at that point at 17 years old. Informing your parents you are dating a princess.....nah.

After that, I focused on my studies and game not talking to Reece other than when I had to about the match. I stopped hanging out with her. I hated her. She didn't care anyway as I would later find out from another teammate that Reece looked at me as not her sister but SISTER-IN-FUCKING-LAW! LIKE WOMAN?! During my absence and one of their "Chill Nights", Kade had made it clear to her in front of other teammates that Reece would be her best woman at OUR WEDDING!? Do you get the level of craziness?! THESE TWO WERE MANIACS! Thank God, I graduated somehow and Kade hadn't appeared in my life after the argument with her and neither did her gifts. I also broke off contact with Reece's ass and even rarely talked with other players but they were honestly more supportive and understood my side. However, Kade and Reece's sis-romance was off the charts. Just go marry each other, weirdos.

Fast forward to a few years and voila, Kade is back and more persistent than ever. Even Reece messaged me on instagram that I should get hitched with her as it's better for my future for which I retorted.

'Um, focus on your life, Reece. Heard you've got a league coming up' Yes, she is a national player now. FML. That was my dream too but I am grateful I ain't because she would be playing alongside me. Eugh!

'Also I can make decisions for myself and I don't appreciate people trying to coax me into anything I don't want to do, you know that very well. Match against the Kent Lionesses, 30 sept, 2013? Yes, didn't wanna do a spin, didn't do it and gave u a good 4 wickets. While Tanya was forcing me to do fast bowl. So please, get the fantasy of me being your BFF's wife out of your head.'

She indeed was unhappy but left me on seen after saying you are missing out on a great woman and a great life.

Right. Fuck you too.

Still fast forward to now and Kade is still looking for ways to connect with me and re-enter my life or trying to RUIN the one I have by creating such circumstances which all link back to her. I have blocked so many numbers of her that now she uses payphones.

I need a break.

Back to reality. Oh , she still is rambling.

"Kade?"

The line goes silent. Good, now is my time.

"Bye." And I cut the call and powered off my phone. I immediately sent a text via laptop to Carla that I needed a prolonged leave as I was leaving for my (homeland/town). The perks of having a nice boss is that she agreed and didn't even pry much and soon I booked a flight and got ready to pack.

My mind however kept swirling with other notions. For example, what will happen if I say yes to Kade? What If I just never come back and consult all of this bullshit from the start with my family and come up with a plan to start an undercover life.

My body is so exhausted by the memories and anxiety that i just collapse on the bed and make a mental note to think over this during the flight.

Part II

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: Guys, I wanted to make it clear that I just don't like using (Y/N) in stories as I just hate typing it so I will be mostly naming you, the readers ♡. Yes you , my little family of 10 😭. I would like to know your opinion. Do hang around for further parts. Kade Emsworth's side coming up soon. )

[akelafang]

I feel like Gwaine and Leon are a tragically overlooked ship.

Like I can just imagine them with this flirty troublemaker/mum-friend-who's-110%-done-with-their-shit dynamic while also pulling each other out of their comfort zones, making them question their previously held beliefs, and being fiercely protective of one another. It'd be so interesting to analyze their relationship and how it shifts over time.

For example, I can see Gwaine being weary of Leon at first. We know how he feels about nobles and the first time they meet Leon is arresting Gwaine after he defends Merlin from being attacked by "knights". It wouldn't be until after they take down Morgana and the Round Table knights are officially brought in that these two would get the chance to properly get an idea of each other and I can see Gwaine being hesitant to do so. Gwaine probably stuck close to the other common-born knights, fully expecting the noble-born knights to be stuck up, entitled, assholes who would look down on them, Leon included. And then Leon just...doesn't do that. Instead, Leon treats each of them with the same level of respect he does any other knight. Leon defends their place in the ranks from anyone who claims their not worthy. Leon spends extra time helping them practice moves they're unfamiliar with since they weren't traditionally trained and does so with zero complaint or judgment. At first, Gwaine thinks he's this stoic yesman who follows orders without question until he really gets to know Leon. Good, kind, loyal, honorable, noble Leon who is everything a knight should be. And Gwaine can't help but think "Maybe there's another noble worth dying for".

I can see after the initial bump in the road Gwaine constantly flirting with Leon to try and get out of trouble. At first, Leon's having none of it but over time his annoyance fades into amusement. His responses go from being an unimpressed flat refusal because he knows what Gwaine's doing, to a more playful response that says he still isn't letting Gwaine off the hook but he's willing to joke about it first. And then amusement develops into fondness. He starts looking forward to whatever stunt Gwaine will pull next and the resulting flirtatious attempt to avoid the consequences. He starts joining Gwaine at the tavern with the excuse that Gwaine can't make up excuses if Leon's a witness to the shenanigans that inevitably ensue. He starts being the one to tease Gwaine first just so he can hear whatever witty comeback Gwaine comes up with, just because he wants to hear him talk (not that Gwaine needs much encouragement). And by the time he realizes what's happening Leon's fallen head over heels for this absolute hot mess of a man who keeps accidentally starting fights in the tavern and passing out drunk in the stables.

I could honestly rant about these two for hours, there's so much untapped potential! I just needed to draw some more attention to them.

[pippin-katz]

You know what I just thought about and now I’m kinda pissed about?

At the first Round Table, the one in the abandoned ruins, Merlin sits at Arthur’s right hand. There’s apparently even a small deleted scene where Arthur tells him to sit there.

But in the official Round Table?

What? Can’t see him at first?

He’s standing way away on the right side of the room by the windows. I understand he’s a servant, but thinking back on it, it feels sort of gross that everyone else who was at the original Round Table meeting has a seat.

Totally get why, but it feels… icky when I think about it too much. He’s the only one who didn’t get a seat at the real Round Table.

Plus, I love Percival, don’t get me wrong, but he literally just showed up, got knighted, and a seat, but Merlin, who’s been at Arthur’s side for years now doesn’t have one cause “he’s a servant”.

To go from purposefully sitting at Arthur’s right hand to no seat at all, feels wrong even though logistically I know why.

[lipglossanon]

♔ 𝔖𝔦𝔵 ♔

• A Dozen Roses • Fairy Tale AU •

Warnings: MDNI, dead dove, incest, possessiveness, abuse of power, mentions of suicide, depictions of bodily harm, off screen death

The King sends out a courier to every neighboring kingdom before you rise from your bed the next day. Your chambermaids are all a flutter, whispering amongst themselves in hopes you won’t hear anything. 

It doesn’t take long for your ladies-in-waiting to gather you from your rooms to walk with you down to the great hall. One of them discretely tells you that your Father is summoning all the lower court today for an announcement. Nerves make your hands jittery, but you keep your composure and walk sedately with your ladies. The tryst between you and the King left no physical marks and yet your entire body bears the moment deep in its bones. 

The lower court members are seated and gossiping when you enter the room. Many of the lords give you dark looks with their wives and daughters looking upon you with undisguised pity. Their judging eyes are nothing new, but the room is filled with an unspoken tension. Skirts rustling, your group of ladies block you from view as best they can, ushering you to your chair. 

Seated in your usual spot near the head of the table, you try to parse what the gentry are muttering to themselves but without luck. It’s all for naught as the room falls silent once the King enters with a couple of his knights. His cold eyes scan the table, landing on you for half a beat too long before shifting away to finish his perusal. 

Feeling satisfied with what he finds, your Father makes his way to the head of the table. You squirm in your seat, body feeling hot under your gown at the remembrance of his touches from the night before. Heartbeat thundering loudly in your ears, you try your best to school your expression into a mildly pleasant facade. Once he reaches his chair, the knights flank either side, all three now facing the people gathered. 

“Today is a day for celebration,” the King announces, voice clearly ringing out into the hall. “I have decided upon who shall have my daughter’s hand in marriage.”

Your eyes drop to the clenched fists in your lap. It’s not like you didn’t know this day would come, but the betrayal of the King choosing someone after what you have given him is breath stealing. 

“She shall wed me and rule at my side as the new Queen.”

Gasps are the only thing to break the stony silence, everyone’s eyes now falling on you while you gaze wide eyed up at the man who has become your betrothed. 

“My liege,” a lord at the end of the table nervously stands. “It against the law is it not? To wed with one of your own line?”

A few other men stand from their seats, chiming in with agreement, pointing out their fellow clergymen who nod along with their claims. 

“Tis not right,” a wizened man steps completely away from the table. “You’ll smite us all with your blasphemous ways. We tolerated your witch wife, absolved of that sin when she took her own life.”

Your head jerks in his direction, “My mother?”

“Aye, lass,” a sneer crosses his weather worn face. “She communed with a devil and earned her fate on those cliffs. She—“

“Enough,” the King cuts off the old man’s tirade. He snaps his fingers and one of the knights leaves his side to roughly grab onto the ranting lord’s arm. 

“I know what you are,” spittle flies from his lips. “Coveting her damns us all. The spawn of that heathen—“

The King nods and the knight grasps the jaw of the elderly lord. Squeezing tightly, he wrenches the old man’s mouth open, and pulls a small dagger from his side. With one quick slice, the lord’s tongue falls to the floor with a wet splat, blood bubbling from his mouth like water in a fountain. 

It feels like time slows to a crawl. The old man cups his mouth, trying to stop the flow of blood and yet it drips like rubies from his wrists. A few ladies scream, including his wife, while the other lords who stood in solidarity slowly take their seats. The knight marches the elderly lord out of the hall, his garbled cries growing fainter until they are heard no more. 

“I will take your concerns into consideration,” the King levels his cool gaze at every person of the lower court. “But it is my divine right to choose what I will. Any insubordination will be met with a swift rebuke.”

He claps his hands and servants flood the hall with platters of food. 

“Now, let us rejoice. Enjoy this bounty provided by your King.”

He sits down, the knight standing at his side shifting to stand guard at his back. You’re unable to look at him any longer, questions running rampant in your thoughts. The old man spoke of your mother in a way you’d never heard before. Glancing down the long table, you catch sight of the man’s wife. Her glassy eyes staring vacantly at the far wall as maids quickly clean the mess left behind by her husband. 

Avoiding your Father’s gaze, you force yourself to take bites off of the plate prepared for you. The jangling of armor pierces the quiet as the other knight returns, blood coating his chainmail. Your stomach roils at the knowledge of why. 

Faking illness comes easily enough; you truly are not feeling yourself— it’s easily believed by your ladies-in-waiting so the King dismisses you to your chambers. Surprisingly, he does nothing more than kiss your knuckles as he bids you farewell. 

Stepping out of the hall, you wave down a serving boy to summon the newly widowed lady to your rooms. She arrives looking frightened and reluctant. It takes all of your willpower to adhere to decorum and not demand answers outright like a brute. 

The tale she weaves is bitter and sad; of a new bride found in the forest; whispers of her witch blood and the blood thirsty king silencing those who oppose. She speaks in urgent stilted sentences, telling you of the sadness that draped the new Queen like a leaden cloak. That she had another love before the King coaxed her away. The sudden news of a child growing inside her, a gift of their joining. 

The old woman clasps your hands in hers, a tight grip that makes your knuckles hurt. 

“Your mother tried to leave and your father couldn’t be seen as weak. He followed her to the sea. She would not return, even for the babe she bore. The King would have taken her by force if she did not jump. Some say she melted into the sea foam and still haunts those cliffs.”

A lady-in-waiting rushes in with scared eyes, warning of the King’s departure from the Hall. 

You thank the woman and gift her a brooch for her trouble. She straightens up and gives you a solemn nod before leaving your chambers. The maids bustle around you, ushering you into a chair and stoking the fire. You avoid their presence, the thinly concealed pity coating their tongues. 

Once they leave, you find your mother’s journal and begin to reread the passages in a new light. Your mother knew she could not keep a journal secret from your father. All of her possessions were buried or burned in honor of her passing. Angry tears fill your eyes as you read over the description of her ancestors—your ancestors.  

From her writings, you now knew what it meant for her to give herself back to the sea. That old woman was right even if she did not know it; your mother melted into the foam like her mother before her and her mother before her. A note of longing and resentment that the forest witch could not do as such; that wood magic had its own rules that did not cede to the waves of her home. 

As the sun begins to set, a blistering determination blooms in your chest like a briar rose. You ready a small satchel of the items you think you’ll need: the little jewelry you own, your mother’s journal, the apples left near your table. Hiding it while you’re alone, you wait, and once the chambermaids ready you for bed and depart, you slip into the simplest dress you own and make your bid for freedom. 

You don’t have much of a plan, but you know that you cannot stay, not with these questions burning your mind. The forest witch is closest; hoping she yet still lives. 

It’s easier than you thought, making your way from your rooms to the edge of the garden in the dark. The guards patrol at intervals easily skirted around and the darkened forest beckons you into its shadowy arms. 

Taking a deep breath, you charge forward, hope a small flutter of wings. 

[strwberri-milk]

Could I request Kaeya's s/o pampering him when he comes home one day, all exhausted? Man needs some R&R.

small spoon kaeya thank you

Despite popular belief, Kaeya does work incredibly hard. He's not someone who likes to half-ass anything he does, meaning he does have a tendency to overwork himself.

You always try to tell him to pace himself, but Kaeya has no idea how to. Instead, he'll just work himself into a dizzying frenzy to the point of just collapsing in bed. You try to make him a little more comfortable by stripping him down. It's a little hard to get him dressed again, so you just try to take away his accessories or anything that might get in the way of him sleeping.

Kaeya always tries to keep going far past his limits which made you take matters into your own hands. This time when he comes home you make him sit down at the dinner table, pulling out a meal that's hot for once. He already looks close to tears thanks to how exhausted he's been plus this show of affection but you tell him that there's more.

You gently coax him to take a bath after the meal, massaging his body as he soaks in the warm water. It does wonders for his sore muscles, feeling the stress of his day dissipating with every sweep of your palm. He makes soft noises of contentment, sighing happily as you help him dry off and get changed.

It's only when you finally manage to get him into bed (not without an incredible amount of kisses) that he finally tells you about what his day looked like. You listen to every word he says, practically hanging off every single one as you hold him close.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Kaeya says after a short rant about one of the new knights that was annoying him.

"For what? I was just treating you the way you deserve to be," you respond with a bit of a snort, pulling him closer to you and pressing a kiss to the back of his neck.

"I know that's what you think but I really appreciate it. You...I haven't felt this loved for a long time. You never give me any room to doubt the space I take up in your heart."

"You take up all of it," you tease him, feeling the way he stiffens before relaxing even more.

"I love you so much," he mutters into the sheets before turning to face you. You can tell he's flustered by the way he's refusing to even look at you. His fingers dig into your hips almost roughly and you just laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"I love you too. Now get some rest."

"If I didn't that would be a waste of all your efforts, wouldn't it?" he teases, pressing kisses lazily against your collar despite his "mean" words.

You're about to respond when you hear his breathing slow, chest moving rhythmically. You laugh to yourself before giving him another kiss and falling asleep with him in your arms, holding his face gently.