#Cursed lancelot
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everlastingdreams · 2 months ago
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Forged Of Fire Masterlist
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Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31
Chapter 32 Chapter 33
~~~~!!!More Chapters will be added as the story progresses!!!~~~~
Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.
Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.
Other warnings: Jealousy. Forced Marriage. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!
Word count of this fic: +250K
Chapters: 47
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themuselesswriter · 8 months ago
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My man is the embodiment of daddy issues
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beginning-writer · 15 days ago
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Yeah, the first thing i do when i open a custom character game it's do my favorite characters/new obsession, what so?
@lancedoncrimsonwings @dinogod
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Also, I'm bored, so use this post to tag someone to share something about their favourite characters.
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lancedoncrimsonwings · 2 months ago
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WIP LateDay
Idk what day it is anymore but I know it isn't Wednesday whoops.
Danke @holy3cake for the tag
No Pressure tagging @aintgonnatakethis @beginning-writer + OPEN TAG FOR ALL to share a WIP, snippet or idea
Here, have another random snippet for Horizons that I wrote last night at 1:30am. No idea if I'll even include this but for now, enjoy!
Gawain's POV;
Night had long since come when Gawain found himself sat by the fire, watching Lancelot. The man's eyes were open and stairing sightlessly into the boughs above him, sometimes screwing shut whilst he bared his teeth into a snarl. Small movements of his body and the occasional gasp and choked moan betrayed how much he was suffering, clearly utterly unable to rest for the pain.
It had been several hours of this, and Gawain had had enough. He knew Lancelot would never ask for aid, yet he also knew that in this state, the man couldn't stop Gawain helping him either.
Grey eyes dulled from exhaustion followed his movement as Gawain got to his feet and circled round the fire to Lancelot's side.
"I must go and gather some herbs. Theres a willow tree by the river, the bark is good for pain," Gawain explained quickly. "I shan't be long, alright?"
"Are you well?" Lancelot croaked, eying Gawain up and down as if searching for an injury.
"Aye, I--"Gawain began, then chuckled to himself when he saw Lancelot crane his neck towards Squirrel then wince at the movement.
"--the boy is fine, Ashman. You're suffering, let me help you."
Predictably, then came the most unconvincing "I'm fine" Gawain had ever heard in his entire life. Lancelot now looked worse than ever, skin pale against his markings, sweat and blood glinting in the firelight, shaking knuckles clenching around bloodstained fabric.
I've seen dead men that looked healthier than he.
"Uh-huh. Aye, and I'm the King of Mercia" Gawain scoffed, shaking his head at the blatant lie.
"Whatever you say, my Liege…" Lancelot replied immediately, an odd tone to his voice that was only punctuated by the breathy way in which the pain caused him to speak.
Gawain scoffed again, but it was effort to stop himself from laughing. A small part of him he darent give voice to liked the way he'd purred the words a little too much…
"I will be off, now. I told you so you'd know where I had gone." Gawain said. He tried to halt his mind's traitorous musings.
"If you needed… time alone, you only had to… ask"
Gawain was certain he had imagined the wink, that there was no way Lancelot was teasing him like this. Surely not. Gawain managed to hold it together enough to raise an eyebrow in reply, shaking his head, about to come up with what would have been a truly witty retort when Lancelot spoke up again;
"Don't forget to… polish your crown, while you're out there."
And at that Gawain's brain damn near short circuited. There was no mistaking the meaning in his tone, the slight smirk, though ruined only slightly by a pained grimace and half gasp of pain. Did Lancelot truly mean the innuendo in the words, had he really meant to flirt?
"Only if you help." Gawain thought back, eyes widening when he heard a snicker then a groan.
Arawn's cock. Had he… Had he said that aloud?
"Your wish is my command, Sire." Lancelot whispered, almost too quiet to hear. Gawain shook his head, sure now that he must be dreaming. Yes, he must have fallen asleep, or he must be in dire need of it and hearing things.
Or if the Ashman truly was flirting with him, then Lancelot was worse off than he'd imagined and clearly delirious from pain.
Either way. Willow Bark and Feverfew. Yes. They were good things to focus on.
That, and decidedly not the idea of Lancelot…polishing his crown with those too-pale lips of his, made warm and plump by…
Willow-bark and Feverfew, Willow and Feverfew, WillowandFeverfewWillowand--
Gawain repeated the list in his head like a mantra, not once turning to look back as he turned on his heel and swiftly made his way down the hill onto the moors.
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jplupine · 1 year ago
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⛓In the Wolf's Den: Chapter 13⛓
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Pairing: The Weeping Monk x Devin [Nonbinary Fey OC] Word Count: ~4.2k WARNINGS: 18+ Minors/Ageless get blocked, Exophilia, Feral Behavior, Size Difference, Heat, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Marking, Getting Caught, Creampie Note: Terms such as pussy/cock/dick/etc. get used. If that makes you uncomfortable, you might want to skip this fic.
Summary: Devin makes it to the Fey safe haven only to realize they had lost track of time. Thankfully, Devin now has the help they need.
You can also read it on AO3!
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Masterlist | Chapter 13:
  It hit a day after docking. I had woken up with a fever and locked the door to my room. I sealed the windows the best I could and kept the room dark.
  Even though I knew this was coming from all the tell-tale signs, I had hoped to have a few extra days to prepare. I wasn't ready in the slightest. I had no stored food nor water in here, and going to the market would be too big of a gamble.
  What the fuck was I supposed to do now? Starve? I couldn't.
  Maybe if I wished hard enough, Lancelot would hopefully notice my absence and bring me food. However, I could only imagine what he must be dealing with right now since he was among all of the Fey while being known as the Weeping Monk. I had wanted to help him, but I couldn't do much of anything right now.
  The gods must have wanted to rub my horrible predicament in my face when there was a knock at my door. I groaned while burying my face into the pillow. Maybe if I pretended I wasn't here, they'd leave me alone.
  "I know you're in there. I can hear you." Lancelot's voice came from the other side of the door, and my heart raced. My ears went flat against my skull as I bit my bottom lip in an attempt to muffle how I whimpered. I was torn on what to do.
  Should I unlock the door and let him in, or keep him out?
  "Devin?" He sounded uncertain and concerned. Had he heard my quiet whimper, too? Fuck, I should've known better. If he could hear the howling from the Wolf Folk village all the way in my cave, no wonder he could hear me now even as I was trying to be quiet. "Devin, are you okay?"
  I buried my face deeper in the pillow. Maybe he'd think I was still asleep if I didn't make any other noise.
  My ears twitched when I heard metallic clicking. I quickly looked up when the door was swung open. Lancelot stood there and froze as soon as his eyes landed on me.
  His gaze slowly wandered over my naked body laying across the bed. Lancelot's pupils widened, and he swallowed after breathing in. He closed the door behind himself before clearing his throat and putting his hands on his hips.
  "Sorry. I, uh, thought you were hurt."
  "Did you just pick that lock?"
  "Again, I thought you were hurt." Lancelot shifted on his feet as he glanced at the closed windows. "I-I can leave if you-"
  "No." I cut him off while sitting up. His scent was driving me wild, and since he was already here, I might as well accept the opportunity presented. "Stay. Please."
  Lancelot's eyes fell to my bare chest, seeing how much it had swollen due to my hormones. His brows slowly knit together before realization dawned on his face.
  "Before you ask, the answer is yes. Heats cause Wolf Folk breasts to enlarge. Pregnancy moreso. Did you really never notice?"
  "I, uh, I assumed my memory must've been mistaken when I saw you were....smaller than our first encounter." Lancelot swallowed again. "Are you sure you want me to stay? You're in heat."
  "Either you stay, or I remain locked in this room, miserable and alone. Please, help me." I said while spreading my legs. Lancelot saw how wet I was, and his breath shook.
  He kicked off his shoes and quickly loosened the strings of his jerkin to get it off. Belts for weapons clattered to the floor as he crossed the room. Lancelot was naked by the time he reached the edge of the bed, and he pushed me to lay down.
  His lips were on mine as I pulled his hair free of the leather strip. His rough palms were on my skin, and I leaned into his touch. My body was aching for him as a fire burned beneath my skin.
  It was hard to believe a year had already passed from the first time I had met Lancelot. It was wilder to think about what all had happened in just that time.
  Lancelot kissed along my jaw and down my neck. There was a possessive growl when his tongue curled over my throat, and I leaned my head back for him. I loved the way his mouth felt on my skin as he nipped and left hickeys in his wake.
  He ground his hips against mine, letting me feel how hard he was before his face went lower. He licked from the base of my throat to my jaw, and electricity danced across my skin.
  "I love you." I panted as one of his hands slid down my stomach.
  "I love you, too." His breath was hot against my skin. "Embrace me so that I may feel heavenly bliss once more, my sweet shepherd." Lancelot whispered near my ear. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I pulled him closer before moaning from his fingers sliding over my clit.
  My fingers slid into his long hair as he pushed his fingers inside. I moaned when they curled, and Lancelot smirked while looking down at me.
  "Oh, how the angels sing through your lips." His tone was nearly a purr as he praised me in his blasphemous way. "Such sweet music." Lancelot made me moan again as my back arched off the bed.
  "Stop teasing me." I panted, and Lancelot kissed my cheek. He pulled his fingers free before lining up his cock.
  "'I am my beloved's," He groaned from thrusting in, and I moaned. "'and my beloved is mine.'" Lancelot had such a gentle tone as his forehead rested against mine. He took in a slow breath through his nose before rocking his hips back. "Mine." He growled while snapping his hips into me.
  Lancelot placed one of his large hands on my collarbone as his fingers rested around the base of my throat. He looked down at me with such predatorial eyes. His long hair fell over his shoulders as he kept thrusting and had me pinned against the bed.
  My toes curled as I moaned and dug my claws into the blanket.
  "Fuck~! Lance- Oh, fuck! Right there! Right ther- Aaahh~!" My back arched as my head lolled back. My heat had been chipping away at him, and he was finally crumbling and falling into rut as he thrust with such feral need.
  Lancelot bared his teeth while growling, and the state he was in only turned me on more. The rumbling from his chest had me shivering in delight. He grabbed the back of my knees to push my legs toward my chest.
  The new position allowed him to go deeper, and I cried out as my toes splayed. His balls smacked against my ass with each thrust, and I could feel the pressure rising. The old wood of the bed was creaking in protest from his lack of delicacy.
  However, Lancelot's heavy thrusting lost rhythm, and I growled out of frustration.
  He huffed before dropping my legs around his hips. He slid his arms under my back before picking me up with such ease. We were chest to chest while locking eyes.
  "Gods, you are beautiful." I whispered while cupping his face in my hands.
  "Such praise from your lips."
  "You think me beautiful as well?" The corners of my mouth curled upward.
  "Utterly divine." Lancelot panted before dropping me a few inches to have his cock buried to the hilt inside me. I moaned as my eyes closed, and he grabbed my ass in a firm grip to lift me up. "Are you still haunted by me?" His voice was low, and I looked at him.
  "Whenever you are away from me. The ghost of your touch finds me even in my dreams."
  "You still dream of me?"
  "Often, mo chroí." I managed to say before moaning. Lancelot slightly tilted his head to the side.
  "Mo chroí?"
  "My heart." Hearing what it meant, Lancelot smiled. He kissed me and groaned while holding me closer to his chest. He snapped his hips as his tongue slid into my mouth.
  I could do little more than hold on to him as he fucked me. I could feel the pressure building again, and I moaned into the kiss. Lancelot's blunt nails dug into my skin, making me softly growl.
  He responded in kind without stopping. He was keeping the same wild pace, and it was pushing me closer to the edge. Our breathing was coming so heavily as saliva stretched between our bottom lips.
  There was something so erotically satisfying about seeing Lancelot with flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. Listening to him grunt and groan had my thighs squeezing his sides. I swallowed and panted before moaning again.
  Lancelot slipped one of his hands between us, and my claws dug into his skin from his thumb rubbing my clit. Biting my bottom lip, I was turned into a moaning and whimpering mess in his arms. My ears were flat against my skull as I was so fucking close to falling apart.
  He knew I was about to cum if he kept up what he was doing, and he picked up the pace because he himself was nearing the edge. Lancelot held me firmly while slamming his cock into me. I cried out when he bit me, and his low growl was the last straw for me as he rubbed my clit.
  My orgasm left me shaking and moaning that I barely noticed how Lancelot's teeth were drawing blood. He groaned into my skin, and cum was dripping onto the bed.
  There was a moment where only the sound of our heavy breathing could be heard in the room. Calm washed over me, and I rested my head on his shoulder. Lancelot wrapped his arms around me and hummed while burying his face into my neck.
  "I'm so hungry." I mumbled, and he chuckled.
  "How about I fetch you something, then?" Lancelot suggested.
  "That would be lovely." I was smiling while playing with his hair.
  We both jolted when the door suddenly slammed open. The man standing there was tall and looked thoroughly pissed. He had a staff with a sword strapped to his hip, but he didn't attack us with either as he instead balked.
  The anger in his eyes turned into shock as he looked at us. Lancelot slowly grabbed the pillow to cover as much of our naked bodies as possible before clearing his throat.
  "I guess I forgot to lock the door back." He whispered.
  "Oh." The tall man seemed at a loss for words. "Oh." His eyebrows raised high on his forehead. "I.... We need to talk." He looked right at Lancelot.
  "Can it not wait?" I asked, and the awkward tension in the air grew thicker. The man glanced at Lancelot's clothes scattered across the floor before grabbing the doorknob.
  "Get dressed." He ordered, and the door was shut.
  "....I think that was Merlin." Lancelot muttered and swallowed.
  "If it is....good news."
  "How is that good news?" He looked at me with furrowed brows.
  "He just caught you in bed with a Fey. That proves you're not the same as before."
  "That's your takeaway from this?"
  "Lancelot, I'm in heat. All I can really think about right now is fucking you until this bed is but kindling." My tone was low, and his gaze dropped to my mouth. He licked his lips hungrily as he slowly leaned in closer.
  However, he quickly pulled away while shaking his head.
  "Don't look at me like that." He dropped me on the bed before getting up and snatching his trousers from the floor. "He looked angry, and I need to think clearly."
  "Good luck."
  "Devin." He had a firm tone, and I rolled onto my side.
  "I'm serious. You're covered in my scent now." He heavily sighed when he realized it was true. So, even when he left the room, he'd still be able to smell me and my heat on himself.
  Lancelot continued getting dressed before picking up the leather strip for his hair. He pulled it up in a quick bun that looked like a mess as he rushed toward the door to not make Merlin wait any longer.
  I sighed while stretching out my legs. Curling up with the pillow, I laid there until Lancelot's return.
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  I woke up to a plate of food being held in front of my face. I hadn't even realized I'd fallen asleep. Sitting up, I took the plate and began to devour the fruit and poultry.
  "Merlin's anger runs deep." Lancelot stated as he was crouched next to the bed.
  "....Will you be okay?" I paused while looking at him.
  "I will be. His anger is not directed at me, per se. I think Percival talked to him."
  "What makes you think that?"
  "He knew things he should not." Lancelot moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "I think he's also grieving."
  "We've lost many to the Red Paladins. That's no surprise." I ate some more of the chicken. "If he is not angry with you as you say, what did he want?"
  "Plans. Tactics." Lancelot rested his elbows on his knees. "With my absence and Father Carden's death, their progress has greatly slowed. I still remember the maps and planned routes, and word will be sent to the Fey villages most at risk."
  "There's something else you're not telling me." I said while tearing apart some bread. He looked at me and rubbed his hand over his jaw.
  "Well, he, uh," Lancelot cleared his throat. "He wanted to address our 'situation'."
  "Situation?" I chuckled, and he averted his gaze while looking embarrassed.
  "You're clearly Fey, Devin. He wouldn't ignore catching us in bed together."
  "And what did you tell him?" I set the plate to the side. "Did you try to save your Christian dignity by claiming I seduced you? I would understand if you had." Crawling closer to him, I saw that he was blushing.
  "I didn't."
  "Then? How did you explain yourself?"
  "I....said that we are lovers." He looked at me, and our faces were only inches apart. "I may struggle with myself and how I feel, but I am learning. I refused to stand by and let you be taken by Odhran. I will not disavow you now to Merlin."
  "That we are lovers...." I muttered while smiling.
  "Should I not have said that?"
  "Does it look as if I am upset with that?"
  "You look happy."
  "I am." My tail swayed, and Lancelot began to smile.
  "You love me that much?"
  "Having you declare to someone else that I am your beloved warms my heart, and if you so much as wish it, I will do the same. I love you deeply, Lancelot." Placing my fingers under his chin, I turned his face more in my direction to kiss him.
  "It's so different." He whispered.
  "What is?"
  "Every time you say you love me, I can feel it."
  "Shall I say it more?"
  "Say it as much as you please."
  "If I do, I may never shut up." Lancelot chuckled at my words, and I climbed onto his lap. "Did you remember to lock the door this time?"
  "I did."
  "Then it's safe to assume you don't plan on leaving soon?"
  "How could I with you in such a needy state?" He settled his hands on my hips as I opened the front of his trousers. "The entire time I was gone, I was eager to return. You plagued my thoughts."
  "Did I now?" My tone sounded nearly like a purr as I reached into his trousers to find his cock. His breath faltered as his grip on me tightened.
  "Devin...."
  "What is it, mo chroí?"
  "I want you to know, I will do everything within my power to hold my promise to you."
  "I would hope so. I've come a far way on your word, Lancelot." I kissed him again, and he suddenly stood. He gently placed my feet on the floor before pulling his clothes off. When he grabbed me to pull me closer, he spun me around to have my back against him.
  "You smell so damn good." Lancelot rested his cheek against my temple, and his scruffy jaw was rough against my skin. His hands ran up my sides before he squeezed my chest. My tail lifted as my ass pressed against him, and a whimper came from the back of my throat. "Memories cannot compare to truly having you in my arms, my love." He whispered while pinching my nipples.
  My breath faltered as my ears flattened.
  "That's right. I still remember every way you told me to touch you. I could never forget what made you cry out in such beautiful ways.... What made you writhe beneath me." His tone dropped as he squeezed again. My thighs pressed together as I was leaning into his touch.
  "Then what are you waiting for?"
  "I like to hear how you whimper for me." He pinched my nipples to make me whine before his rough palms went down my torso. His hands slid between my legs and forced them apart. Lancelot breathed in through his nose and growled.
  His fingers went over my pussy to gather up slick. Raising his hand, he spread his fingers to show the clear fluid stretching between his digits.
  "Hmm.... Shall I stop here?"
  "No! Keep touching me."
  "Why should I?" He was taunting me now while barely holding out himself.
  "I want you." I panted, and Lancelot grabbed me as his lips brushed over my cheek.
  "What was that?"
  "I want you."
  "Have some bloody manners." He pulled my hair to make my head lean back. His teeth scraped over my neck, and he nipped.
  "Please."
  "That's more like it." Lancelot used his hold on my hair to push me toward the bed until I had to kneel on the edge. He grabbed the back of my neck to push me down with my ass in the air. His other hand slid over my hip to move me into position.
  When his hand lowered to grab my ass, my tail lifted out of the way. Lancelot's breath was deeper, and I felt his cock pressing against my core and using my slick to ease his way in. Feeling myself stretching to accommodate his length, I groaned. His grip on the back of my neck tightened while pushing my cheek further into the rumpled blanket.
  When his hips were flush against me, he grabbed my hip again. Lancelot softly sighed with relief before slowly pulling out a few inches only to thrust back in. My heat left me so aroused that there was a wet slap from his balls smacking against me over and over again.
  Lancelot groaned over me, and I dug my claws into the blanket. Feeling his fingers squeezing my hip and scruff as he thrust in deep made my head spin. Listening to his grunts and heavy breaths, I clenched when he moaned, and his hips bucked.
  His rut soon had him pistoning his cock in and out of my pussy, seeking that high as the bed rocked. Lancelot put more weight behind the hand on the back of my neck, ensuring that I would remain in the position he put me in. It gave him perfect access, hitting every spot that made me cry out and my toes to splay.
  My ears were turned back as I moaned and felt drool trickling down my cheek. Each thrust made my body jolt, the flesh of my ass jiggling from every impact of his hips slamming into me. Lancelot was panting and groaning, losing himself to the pleasure.
  He placed one foot on the edge of the bed to lean over me more as if he were mounting. It drove my instincts wild as I cried out and arched my back. My tail swayed while still off to the side.
  Gods, it was so hard to have a coherent thought with how good it felt. Lancelot pushed me further onto the bed to climb on behind me before fully mounting and biting my shoulder.
  His arms wrapped around me, one hand going between my thighs to find my clit. My entire body shuddered when his fingers rubbed against the throbbing bud. Lancelot grunted into my skin while holding me to his chest as he fucked me.
  His rut was no doubt filling his mind with thoughts of breeding. Lancelot's hand not between my thighs ran up my stomach and over my nipples, squeezing one of the swollen mounds as I bared my fangs. His touch sent sparks dancing across my skin, and he pinched my nipple to make me squirm beneath him.
  Lancelot had me at his mercy trapped beneath him, left with no choice but to feel his body surrounding mine. My senses were drowning in him as I whimpered and moaned. Looking back over my shoulder, I saw his eyes dark and full of hunger as he was watching me. His hair swayed from his thrusting, and he opened his mouth with his face so close to mine.
  He licked my cheek, a show of affection before nipping my ear closest to him. I couldn't take it anymore with all of the sensations colliding like a spring storm. My moan was nearly a roar as I was cumming around his cock with my claws tearing through the blanket.
  Lancelot groaned and fucked me through it. My body clenching around him became too much, and his cock was twitching while pumping me full of cum. His hips gradually began to slow as he panted and grunted in my ear.
  I was trying to catch my breath, and he rested his head on my shoulder with his body slowly relaxing. He eventually pulled out, his softening cock covered in a mix of bodily fluids that were also leaking down my thighs. Lancelot nuzzled my cheek and jaw to help ease me back down from the high.
  My legs felt weak, and when I eased them outward to lay down on my stomach, I felt the ache in my lower back. Lancelot began to leave sweet kisses over my shoulders and upper back, including where he'd bitten me.
  "You're so beautiful." Lancelot whispered. Scoffing, I wiped the drool from my face.
  "I'm a mess."
  "You can be both at once." I could hear the smile in his voice as his lips brushed over my skin. "You are entrancing." Lancelot placed a hand on my lower back and slowly moved it upward. "The way you move and your muscles flex.... The way you sound. Your eyes." He kissed my temple. "Beautiful."
  I propped myself up on my elbows as my tail softly wagged, giving away just how much I enjoyed his praise.
  "Even the way your pretty lips part and shape your voice." Lancelot's fingers caressed my lips. "You are a work of art, my love."
  "You certainly have a way with words." I smiled, and he kissed my cheek.
  "I only speak the truth." Lancelot then laid down beside me and brushed his knuckles over my cheek. His eyes were so gentle as he looked at me, far from that cold stare that could bore through me.
  "You truly don't find me scary? Monstrous?"
  "....No. I understand what you meant by your nature." He gently tapped my chin with his knuckle while looking at my mouth. I playfully nipped his finger, and he smirked. "Your fangs and claws are just a part of you, meant to aid in your survival. I have yet to see you turn these on another out of pure malice." His gaze was focused on my fangs gently around his finger. "Sometimes I find myself even thinking they're a bit....adorable. It's a bit strange."
  "It's not strange." I said after letting go. "Admiration, love, understanding; these can all make you see things differently." Holding his hand and opening it, I kissed his palm. "I no longer see you as I did before, either."
  "....How do you see me now, Devin?" Lancelot hesitantly questioned as if he were afraid of the answer.
  "My mate." I softly smiled and tilted my head. "You confessed your love for me in many ways, Lancelot, including under the light of a full moon. I reciprocated."
  "And that makes us mates?"
  "Do you not want us to be? You were calling me your lover not too long ago-"
  "No, I want to be your mate."
  "Good. I would have bit you if you said you didn't." Lancelot chuckled, his smile making me feel so light and for a warmth to bloom in my chest. "I'm going to enjoy having you around for my entire heat instead of just a few days."
  "You are an insatiable wolf."
  "Tell me you don't think you will enjoy it, too." I challenged while resting my chin on his chest. Lancelot's smile turned sultry before he leaned in to kiss me without saying a word.
  Having his rut triggered by my heat made me not doubt that he would be fine. Lancelot wasn't human, and given what happened during my last heat, I would not be left wanting in any way.
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justaz · 6 months ago
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arthur and the knights getting cursed so they can’t hold a weapon, fight, and can barely walk. clumsy x1000 blast. the cure is idk somewhere in the woods or with the druids or something idk idk don’t ask me. anyways they get ambushed and arthur and the knights cant fight so merlin is like “damn it” and pushes them all back and looks at arthur and is like
merlin: you can’t fight so i’m going to fight them.
arthur, stumbling over his own two feet even while merlin is pushing him up against a tree: you can’t fight
merlin: i can. i’m going to. what i need you to do is wait, alright? you’re going to be mad, i get that, but that’s going to have to wait until later. can you do that?
arthur: you can’t fight, merlin.
merlin, rolling his eyes: will you just listen to me for once? be mad later. appreciate that i’m saving your life right now.
merlin, leaving arthur to fall flat on his face, muttering under his breath: like always
and then woosh merlin saves their lives and is a bad ass sorcerer yippee gwaine is very turned on and so is arthur but he’s also definitely pissed while lancelot is so proud of his bestie (and a little turned on)
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heavenly-hand · 5 days ago
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One Fine Summer Day
Lancelot catches Jester skipping in a field of lavenders. Troubled by the thought that Jester will trample all the flowers with his silly (cute) jumping, Lancelot quickly rushes over and picks him up...
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Bonus under the cut
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princess-of-morkva · 9 months ago
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i think in a situation where arthur and gwen break up, merlin would be taking it way worse than the actual people breaking up
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adhd-merlin · 1 year ago
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Queen Guinevere at the stake
Le Morte d'Arthur, Thomas Malory (x) // The Once and Future King, T. H. White (x) // BBC Merlin, Queen of Hearts (3x10) // Camelot: The Musical, Alan Jay Lerner // Merlin (1998) // Lancelot, Edwin Arlington Robinson (x) // The Rescue of Queen Guenevere by Sir Lancelot, William Hatherell (x)
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darklinaforever · 6 months ago
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These shows that I still hope to have a sequel to one day :
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For information, there are currently real discussions about a possible return of Julie and the Phantoms (but on Disney + this time). The creators of the show Dark Crystal are still not giving up the possibility of giving a conclusion in one way or another to their show. Then there's the hope that Willow will one day return since it's more on indefinite hiatus than canceled. As for Cursed, we are supposed to one day have the sequel in book form. Conclusion : I'm waiting. May hope be with me, with you, with all of us.
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everlastingdreams · 2 months ago
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The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire Chapter 24
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Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.
Chapter Title: The Baker And The Monk.
Notes: Looking back, I'm surprised how big this story got. Wasn't my intention lol.
Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.
Other warnings: Jealousy. Forced Marriage. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn. Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!
Word count of this fic: +250K
Chapter:  24/47
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The others were still asleep in the morning when you had gone downstairs in the inn to drink some soup and enjoy a peaceful quiet moment alone before having to face the Monk again. Where to go from here? What with Percival, did he still have parents or was the boy on his own? There were a lot of things to think about and it was hard to come to a solid decision or plan. Your peaceful moment alone was interrupted when a man approached the table you were sitting at.
“I noticed you are sitting alone, care for some company to talk to?” He seemed rather friendly.
You were in doubt. “I fear I will not be very talkative.”
He did not give up just yet. “I’m quite the opposite, if you wish to offer a listening ear I might entertain you?”
It was starting to intrigue you. “What would you speak of?”
The man was an open book. “My successes and failures as a baker.”
“Fine.” You decided. “Take a seat. Start with the failures.”
He chuckled and took the chair opposite of you. This baker, whom was named Charles, was a friendly fella that loved to chat with anyone who would listen. Hearing how the life of another was so different compared to yours was refreshing. There was no talk of paladins or the war. It was just a baker speaking of his occupation with an enthusiasm not many still had. For just a moment, you forgot about your own situation and let yourself be carried into the story of another. That lasted until you saw the man look at something behind you, the Monk had came down the stairs and his attire was drawing attention. His attention however was solely on you, and how quickly you were to get to your feet and hurry over to him.
“Your surcoat!” you quietly scolded. “Do you want everyone to know we are hiding in this inn?!”
As you pulled at his arm to lead him back up the stairs, the innkeeper caught your eye and beckoned you over. With a small heart you went over to her.
She was drying off a tankard. “I was under the impression that you didn’t want anyone to notice he was here.”
It was a correct assumption. “You’re right, I’ll talk to him.”
“He’ll bring trouble in those clothes.” She nodded in his direction.
The Monk was watching the conversation, still waiting for you by the stairs. You were aware it was pulling attention to him. “It’s not our intention to-”
She put the linen towel down. “Follow me through the kitchen. I may have something in my quarters, he looks the size of my late husband.”
That was an offer you did not reject, you made eye-contact with the Monk and tilted your head to call him over. He understood the silent request and crossed the large room to where you were waiting.
“The innkeeper may have some less holy clothes for you.” you told him.
Before he could react to the jest, the innkeeper spoke up.
“The name is ‘Amelia’.” She proceeded to lead you through the kitchen of the inn, another door was opened and led into her large quarters. Amelia went to the large wardrobe and opened it’s doors. “Pick out a couple of clothes. Come back to the inn when you’re done.”
You thanked her as she walked past, she murmured something about how her late husband wouldn’t need them anymore. Her generosity was surprising, perhaps she had not always been as fortunate as she was now. The Monk had not set one foot in the direction of the wardrobe.
“Go on. See if you can find something in there for you.” you encouraged.
Slowly he walked to the wardrobe, and tentatively touched a shirt. “It was not my intention to cause you trouble. I had not considered that my clothes would be so noticed here.”
You strolled around the room somewhat impatiently. “A monk in an inn will always draw attention.”
He hummed in agreement. “I had not even noticed.”
That was strange to hear considering how perceptive he could be. “That isn’t like you, often you were the first to notice something out of the ordinary.”
The truth escaped him when he picked up a light grey shirt that interested him. “When I woke and saw that you were no longer in the room with us, my only concern was finding you.” The weight of his confession hit a second later, he almost looked in your direction but stopped himself just in time. A black leather jerkin caught his eye next and he took it from under the stack of clothes on top of it.
“You thought I had run off again.” you stated what was so obvious now.
He swallowed hard and shook some dust from the jerkin. “Yes.”
“I would.” You crossed your arms over your chest, finally daring to face him. “But you did not arrive here alone, there is a child up in that room who needs someone to look after him. Where are his parents?”
The Monk told you what the boy had mentioned to him. “They’re gone.”
It wrangled at your heart to hear it. “What now?”
Not even he seemed to know what to do, it wasn’t like he had experience with raising and looking after children, because even though Percival acted mature for his age he was still just a boy under that hardened character.
He walked towards the bed in the room and put down his choice of clothing, then began to take off his cloak. “He picked up a sword to fight the Trinity Guard, to save me. I will do all that is in my power to ensure he will be safe.”
“How?” It slipped out.
His hands slowed down on their task, his voice got quieter. “I had hoped to not be the only one watching over Percival’s well-being. He could use someone gentle of heart.”
It clicked right away what he was suggesting. “Using a child as leverage to keep me with you?” You scoffed and turned to head towards the door.
He caught you by the arm to stop you. “What must I do for you to forgive me?”
You pulled yourself free from his hold. “Stop trying to stop me every time I want to get away from you, that would be a good start! If you let me be free, I might be more inclined to seek out your company.”
It was something he would need to learn, to let what he was so protective over run free in this world full of dangers he had hoped to shield you from.
His hand moved along your arm until it could take hold of your hand. “It does not have it’s roots in trying to have control over you. I-…” A long pause fell. “I felt the loss of you for a day and it was worse than any punishment forced upon me. Hate me, scream at me, harm me… I surrender to your will. But I beg you, stay.”
You were hoping he could not feel how your body was trembling in response to his plea. “Lancelot, I don’t know if I can after what happened.”
He knew why you were so cautious towards him. “I needed no order from Father to wish for your trust. I meant what I said to you once, you are important to me.”
“Because I was the key to achieving Father Carden’s praise and love for you.” It came out bitter.
“No.”
“No?”
He stepped away. It wasn’t until he continued to dress down that you noticed how much his hands were shaking. “Your presence brings me solace.”
You crossed your arms again, hugging yourself for some comfort. “I hope this is not some elaborate plan to regain my trust and take me back to the paladins.”
He almost looked over his shoulder to you. “Do you think so low of me?”
Your eyes turned cold. “Why do you think that is?”
He swallowed his tongue.
You sighed. “But I trust Percival to be truthful.”
Not him… of course not.
You hated how you couldn’t help but look when he bared his torso and let the ruined clothes drop to the floor. “Your wounds look better than they did last night.”
It was as if he had already forgotten them when he looked down at his healing injuries. “I owe it to your kindness. I doubt you had ointment at hand to use.”
So he knew you must have went out and searched for herbs to make the ointment. It told him you still must have felt a form of attachment towards him. “You’re lucky I know how to make one.”
He slipped the shirt on and inspected its fit. “Indeed.”
To distract yourself, you strolled around the room a little. “Just so you know, I will be referring to you by your actual name in this place. It is best we do not draw attention to ourselves. I hope others here did not figure out already that you are a monk, it would starts rumors and rumors can spread to the paladins and lead them here.”
He had not a single objection to that. “That is alright.”
Suddenly he winced, a pained sound escaped him when he had tried to put the jerkin on.
You approached him right away. “Let me help.”
Again, he had not a single objection when you began to close the leather belts of the jerkin. When you gave a stronger tug on one of them, a chuckle fell out of him. “Is this an attempt to murder me?”
You rolled your eyes at the jest. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
The smile remained on his lips. He almost seemed to enjoy the slightly rougher handling.
“What happens now? Will Father Carden not wish for you to return?” you asked.
He was not sure what to expect. “I do not know. But returning will not be possible, news will have spread of my heritage by now.”
You finished closing the last belt and took a small step back. “And if they were to want you back…?”
He shook his head. “With broken faith? And after what I did? The only reason they would want me back is to kill me.” His eyes locked on your face. “Besides that reason, I know that if I were to return to them you would never forgive me.”
It was a correct assumption. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”
He gave a nod. “It goes without saying that we should stay out of the sights of paladins. And I will try to see if I can find us a place that will be safer than here.”
Easier said than done. “Won’t be simple. We have not much more than horses and the weapons you carry.”
“We have coin.” He said oh so matter-of-factually, as if you knew what he was speaking of.
“What?” you blurted out.
He was confused for a second. “I-… I always have a pouch of coin with me as I travel. One never knows when it is needed.” Upon seeing your expression change, he asked, “Were you concerned there was none to survive on?”
Him having coin did not mean it would help you too. “Well, it’s your coin. Not mine.”
A frown creased his forehead. Realization hit. “Do you truly think that I would not share what I have with you? What is mine, is yours. You are my wife.”
You took a step away and handed him back his cloak. “Our marriage is nothing but an arrangement that has benefited everyone but myself.”
He held the cloak in his hand, feeling frozen in time and place. “Then it is time I prove what benefits this arrangement will provide for you.”
It had you mildly intrigued, but you didn’t dare to show it. “Put your cloak back on. I hope Percival is still upstairs in the room.”
He did as asked. “He was still asleep when I came to find you.”
You headed for the door to the kitchen, him speaking your name made you stop. He came closer again, stopping right in front of your nose. He intended to take hold of your hand but you moved it back a little and it made him abandon the idea.
He spoke in a quiet manner, “If it would put your mind at rest, I will go and fetch the coin from Goliath’s saddlebag and put it in your possession?”
You blinked. “Maybe you should fetch that pouch from the saddlebag before someone else does?”
His expression changed instantly, as if he had not even thought about the possibility of someone stealing it. “I-… One moment.”
Lancelot walked out of the room, through the kitchen and the inn, to outside. After everything, it was not strange for it to be forgotten or overlooked. It was also somewhat amusing to see him hurry out of the inn because of it. You on the other hand went back up the stairs up to your room after thanking Amelia and asking her for two bowls of broth. When you went inside, you found Percival starting to wake up. The scent of the broth was enough to wake him up fully.
“Good morning.” You handed him a bowl.
Percival mumbled the same in reply and went towards the bed. You cleared your throat to get his attention and he saw you point at the table. With a small sigh, he took place at the table to eat his broth. Just as he sat down, Lancelot entered the room and he went straight over to you. A pouch was put into your hand before you could even think to protest it.
Percival eyed you curiously. “What’s that?”
He told the boy the truth, “Coin.”
Percival’s eyes fell on the pouch again, slightly widened and very interested.
Lancelot noticed it right away. “She has a satchel to carry it in.”
The idea he fed was clearly aimed at you, but you were still a bit taken aback by the weight of the pouch that he had put into your hand. Never had Aldith or Cassian let you carry this much coin on you, they were quick to take it if they knew you had some savings. And for it to just be put into your hands now like it was nothing…
Even the boy had noticed the strange familiarity between you and him. “Are you friends?”
Your attention snapped to Percival, who was looking between you and Lancelot like he was trying to figure it out. Lancelot did not answer, he was looking at you to see what you would say. The last thing you wanted to do was alarm the boy by telling him that the friendship between you and Lancelot had come to a sour end not long ago, Percival barely knew the two of you and it would make more uncomfortable questions arise.
“We are.” you said, and noticed how relieved Lancelot looked.
“How?” Percival looked at Lancelot. “You killed the Fey, then how come you’re friends with her?”
Again he looked at you for an answer, but this time you gave him a look back that let him know that this was his answer to give. Lancelot struggled to explain it. “Father made an exception for her.”
The boy fired another question, “Why?”
He kept looking at you for help in this. “Because she is Ash Folk, as I am.”
“He only let Ash Folk live?” Percival frowned.
“The broth is getting cold. Eat Percival.” You turned to Lancelot. “The other bowl is yours.”
Lancelot was quick to ask, “Have you eaten?”
You gave a nod. “I had soup before you came down to the inn.”
Only then did he take the offer of the broth and took place opposite of Percival. You stashed the pouch of coins into your satchel.
You sat down on the bed for a moment, then let yourself fall back onto the mattress to look up at the ceiling. “You could use some more of that medicine I have given you, Lancelot. Charles told me that the market in this village is available for wares here everyday.”
His spoon stilled midway to his mouth. “ ‘Charles’?”
“The baker I was talking to before you came down the stairs.” you informed.
He continued to eat. “You wish to visit this market then?”
Your eyes closed. “I think it is necessary, that medicine will dull the pain for now, but when it wears off…”
“It would indeed be wise to be prepared.” He agreed to the idea. “Shall we go after this meal?”
Percival gave a ‘yes’ with his mouth stuffed full, earning a scolding look from the Ash Man.
“That’s fine.” you stretched your arms behind your head, enjoying the soft bed. Humming contentedly. A slight cold chill crept over the skin of your waist where it was exposed by your clothes that had moved up a little, it was not bothersome.
“Don’t you like the broth?” Percival suddenly asked.
You turned your head to look at the table and saw how Lancelot turned his head towards the boy. Percival was looking at him curiously, and perhaps hopeful that he would get the other bowl of broth for himself. Lancelot cleared his throat, and took a spoonful of the broth in his mouth in response to that. You smiled at the hint of disappointment in Percival’s expression and made a mental note to make certain the boy would have a proper set of meals every day as long as you could provide him with such.
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  The walk to the market was rather odd, you had to keep a focused eye on Percival who showed a tendency to wander off alone. Lancelot did not seem all too comfortable among the busy crowd, he was constantly looking around himself.
“Try to be calm.” you told him. “You’ll hurt your neck if you keep turning it so much.”
He picked up on the jesting tone. “How can you be so calm?”
You stopped at a stall with small curiosities. “I’ve spend days living among the enemy. It’s nothing new.”
It was a small lie. Being among a crowd was causing you distress but you did not want to draw attention, so you pretended all was well.
Lancelot noticed Percival had taken an interest in a stall a little further away and caught the boy by the vest before he could disappear in the crowd. “Remain in my sight.”
“It’s not my fault if your eyes are bad.” Percival bluntly said.
He took on a more firmer tone. “Stay.”
Percival rolled his eyes and came to stand a little closer to you, looking down at all the small bits and trinkets on the stall. Visiting a market was something you had not done in quite some time and it was the first time you weren’t doing it alone.
“I can see a stall further up ahead that is selling medicine.” Lancelot informed you.
He leaded the way to the stall, a friendly old lady was selling some basic necessities for those who dabbled in medicine. There was a certain set of herbs that you needed to make more of that ointment you had made but the seller had no stock of it. Another trip into the forest for them would be warranted. Fortunately she did have a few vials of medicine for when Lancelot’s fever and pain would return. When it was time to pay, for the first time you found out just how much there was actually in the pouch of coins. The small gasp from you made the others look.
Lancelot came closer, noticing your startled reaction to the contents of the pouch, by doing so he blocked the view others could have on it. “May I?”
Was he truly asking if he could use his own coin to pay for the medicine? It was such a ludicrous thing. “Of course.”
He took two small coins out and handed them to the seller whilst putting the pouch back into the safety of your satchel, then put the vials into it as well. Your attention was pulled away from him when Percival lightly tugged at your sleeve.
“Can we get a sweetroll?” The boy asked so very carefully.
Out of reflex you looked at Lancelot for an answer, before reminding yourself that he had said that the coin was yours just as much as it was his. “I believe we can?”
A sweetroll, after how brave the child had been to step into the Trinity Guard fight with him? It was the very least he could give in return.
Lancelot noted the doubt and put your mind at ease. “Yes.” He relied on his nose to find what the boy was asking for. “Over there.”
For you it was still hard to distinct all the scents, especially in a place so filled with all sorts of kinds.
Lancelot gave Percival an encouraging nudge against the back once at the stall that sold the sweetrolls. “They are fresh.” Then he looked at you with a knowing look. “Can you tell?”
You shook your head. “No.”
“No?” he asked curiously.
There was no ill intent behind his question, you could tell. This was just him being curious how well your sense of smell was now.
Percival pointed at a sweetroll, one that looked a little larger than the others of course. “I want that one.”
Lancelot hoped to improve Percival’s manners and corrected his way of asking for something. " ‘May I have that one?’ "
Percival did not pick up on what was being gently taught to him. “I saw it first.”
You turned your head, covering your mouth to stifle a laugh.
“I meant-” Lancelot sighed, but he did not want to make this more confusing. He would speak to the boy about this later. “Alright.”
Percival became far more cheery when he could eat his sweetroll on the way back to the inn. On your way there, the path got more crowded with people, and after having been alone so often the crowd felt overwhelming. Seeing a threat coming felt impossible like this. People were almost walking against or into you constantly, the many voices flooded your ears, you began to lose sight on where you were and where you were going. Your heart was beating too fast, there was not enough air getting into your lungs. What on earth was happening…
“Are you alright?” Percival suddenly asked.
No. No, you were not. “I…”
Just before someone else could walk into you, Lancelot placed himself close to you, using his form as a barrier against the crowd. “What is wrong? You look unwell.”
It felt embarrassing to say it. “There’s too many people.”
Lancelot looked around him for a moment and spotted a smaller and less crowded path. “We’ll take that path instead. Come.”
You barely registered that he had placed a hand on your back to guide you along. The second you were out of the crowd, you leaned against a wall to recover.
Percival looked so very worried. “Are you sick?”
“No. I’m not used to being around so many people so closely anymore.” You hoped he wouldn’t ask why that was. “I can’t even see if there’s paladins around.”
Lancelot spoke. “Do not worry. I will notice them.”
He saw the look in your eyes change, it twisted a dagger into his gut. You did not trust that he would warn you if he saw paladins…
The boy touched your arm to comfort you. “It’s alright.”
No one expected for Percival to offer you the last bit of the sweetroll, it instantly made you feel a bit better.
“No, thank you.” you refused the sweet offer. “Did that sweetroll make you so sweet, or were you always like this?”
Percival’s face flushed a little, especially when he saw the slight grin on Lancelot’s face who saw it happen.
Lancelot came closer, supporting you by the arm to see if you were stable enough to walk. “Are you certain you do not wish for something to eat or drink?”
You pried his fingers loose from your arm. “I’ll be alright. Let’s get back to the inn before we run into paladins.”
The Ash Man kept a sharp eye on you whilst the three of you walked back to the inn. Percival and him picked out the lesser crowded paths and at some point you ended up on a narrow cobblestone street. Houses were build left and right in a long line and at the end of that street was a blacksmith working at his forge.
Lancelot came to a halt. “Do you mind stopping here for a moment?”
Of course he would be curious to see what sort of weapons this village had to offer. “Go ahead.”
He gave a grateful tilt of the head and approached the blacksmith, you and Percival followed suit.
“Good day.” The blacksmith gave a greeting nod and halted his work, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
“Good day.” Lancelot greeted just as polite. “Do you have wares for sale?”
“I do.” The blacksmith pointed at the house beside the forge. “My daughter keeps charge of the shop. Feel welcome.”
Whilst walking the short distance to the shop, you discreetly handed Lancelot the pouch. “In case you need it.”
He tucked it under his sword belt, in those few seconds Percival had already walked into the shop and reminded you both that this child would walk right through fire if there was something he wanted on the other side. Lancelot followed him inside immediately and grabbed hold on the back of the boy’s jacket. One look at the boy and Percival knew that Lancelot was serious about staying in sight.
A woman who looked your age was cleaning one of the many swords inside the store, she halted her task right away when she saw Lancelot. “Hello, is there something you seek? We have many weapons a man such as yourself would love to have.”
You noticed how it took her a little too long to even notice you were in the store too, not that she seemed to care, her eyes were glued to Lancelot from the second he had stepped inside. It irked you, a feeling you suppressed, this woman had done you no wrong.
“A sword.” he answered her.
She gestured for him to follow and leaded him to a wall with swords on display. “See something you like?”
Oh, it could not be more obvious that she was not talking about the swords then. Even Percival noted an undertone in her voice and looked up at her questioningly. The Ash Man said nothing, his gaze waved over the wall of swords and then he picked one off of the wall. He created some distance and spun the sword in his hand a few times.
“No.” he said, dissatisfied. The sword was placed back and another was put to the test, and another… and another…
You were watching the picky twit, starting to feel embarrassed for how he turned down sword after sword. “What exactly are you looking for?”
He smiled at the slightly annoyed tone. “Balance.”
“Balance?” Percival parroted. “It’s a sword. You just have to hit someone with it.”
He inspected the crossguard of the sword whilst explaining it to the boy. “A sword must have a good balance to control it well. It must be strong, not just the blade but the pommel and crossguard as well. A blade alone will not offer much aid in a sword fight without a strong pommel.”
The blacksmith’s daughter approached him now that he was just looking at the details of the pommel. “Spoken as a true swordsman. You are in need of a new sword then?”
She placed her hand on his lower arm, he looked at her hand right away. The sight of it bothered you, it shouldn’t have, not after all that had happened.
“No.” He finally read her intentions from her face. “It is for her.”
You saw him gesture your way and stared back at him in surprise. A sword, for you? Truly?
“Oh… I see… of course.” she stammered and stepped back.
When he beckoned for you to come closer, you became very aware of the sets of eyes on you. It felt a little awkward to approach him.
Upon seeing the reluctance, he approached you himself. He stood at your side and placed the sword into your hands, with your state from earlier in mind he behaved as gentle as he knew he could be. “See? Perfectly balanced steel. The right length for you to wield, a strong crossguard that can be used as a weapon in itself.”
The enthusiasm with which he spoke was infectious, if someone knew what sort of sword was good it had to be him. And with the way he was touching your arm and hands, you struggled to fully focus on the details of the sword he was explaining about.
He stood half against you. “What do you think? Do you like it?”
“Yes.” It flopped out, as if air decided to flee your lungs before the rest of your body could.
He looked at the shopkeeper. “We’ll take the sword.”
“Very well.” She sounded a little disappointed that he wasn’t interested in the other matters that she had wanted to offer.
He made an observation. “She needs a belt and sheath for it.”
“Of course.” She went to a hook on the wall that held multiple sorts of belts and helped you pick one out, then she attached the sheath to it.
Lancelot approved of the ensemble and was seemingly wondering if there could be more added to the belt that would be useful. “A small pouch for it?”
That sure sounded handy to store small things in. “I’d love that.”
With a polite gesture of his hand, he told the shopkeeper to add it to the ensemble. Then there you stood, with a proper weapon belt and a sword at your hip, the joy it brought was refreshing.
“Will that be all?” The shopkeeper asked.
Percival piped up, “I want a knife.”
“No.” Lancelot denied that request.
The boy fired back. “Mine was stolen! By the people you lived with.”
The way the child glared at him and gave him a warning look… It was a blessing that he had not referred to them as paladins.
Lancelot looked at you for advice. Was it proper to give the young boy a knife?
You mistook the look he gave. “If the sword is too costly for Percival to get a knife, I will manage without a sword.”
He sighed and looked towards the shopkeeper. “Do you have something appropriate for one of his age to use?”
“My ‘age’ ?” Percival glared at him. “What’s that got to do with it?”
You snorted a laugh, curious how Lancelot was going to talk himself out of this one. And apparently he considered it wise to not answer Percival’s bait for a battle. Thankfully the shopkeeper sensed the mood of the boy shifting in the wrong direction and quickly handed a knife to Lancelot.
He inspected the knife before giving it to Percival. “Good?”
The boy got very cheery instantly again, and with a wide grin he nodded up to him. The sword and knife were paid for and the shopkeeper bid you all a good evening. Indeed evening had arrived over the land, there were far less people on the streets now. With a sword that you could rest your hand on, you felt more at ease. Had this been Lancelot’s intention, for you to feel less threatened by the crowd? It worked.
    ~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~
  Before entering the inn, the three of you stopped by the horses. They were indeed being fed and taken care of, the innkeeper was one of the better ones out there it seemed.
“I miss Bear.” you said quietly whilst brushing the coat of the horse, that you had stolen from the paladins, with some straw. Lancelot was beside you, tending to Goliath’s coat.
Percival had heard it too. “Who’s ‘Bear’?”
“My own horse.” you told him. “This is the one I stole from the paladins. He’s sweet too, but he’s not Bear.”
The boy pouted a bit. “Where is Bear?”
You sighed. “Still at the paladin camp, I think.”
“He will be alright.” Lancelot reassured. “A good horse is always valuable, they will treat him well.”
You hoped he was right about that. “I hope so.”
After tending to the horses, you headed into the inn. The scent of warm potatoes and vegetables hanged inside the place, it was a warm welcome to your nostrils.
“I’m hungry.” Percival said the second you walked into the inn.
“I will ask the innkeeper for meals. Do we eat in the room?” you asked them.
“Yes.” Lancelot was quick to reply. The visit to the market had been enough risks for the day.
He did not have the heart to remind the boy that he had eaten a sweetroll not long ago, considering one of the ways to win the war against the Fey had been to burn their mills to cause famine amongst them.
As you walked towards the bar, he took Percival up to the room. Amelia was already looking at you, awaiting the interaction whilst she brushed a stray lock of her curly black hair behind her ear.
“That is a fine looking sword.” She nodded down at the sword resting at your hip. “Went to the market then?”
The wish for small talk was shared. “Yes. I needed more medicine for my friend.”
Her eyes narrowed for a blink. “That man you are with is your ‘friend’?”
Friend… it was the only way you could describe him that wouldn’t draw attention.
You worried what her reaction meant. “Yes…”
“I thought he was your lover.” She shrugged her shoulders. “And the boy?”
Rumors could be born so easily… at least Amelia was not afraid to ask for the truth. “Percival’s parents died, he only has us now.”
She hummed and filled some plates with the stew she had prepared for those at the inn. Her voice was just loud enough for you to hear. “Not many know what the Weeping Monk looks like, the people speak of him as if he is a ghost. Those who have not seen his face, or heard the stories, will not recognize him. But I have heard the stories. So tell me, should I be concerned?”
Your hands got clammy. She knew… she knew… “He is not a ghost, nor a monster. He will do you no harm.”
At least you hoped that was true, and that this was not some elaborate plan of his to get your trust back and return you to Father Carden.
She stared you down for a second, then gave a nod and placed the plates in front of your nose. “Be careful. Someone like him must have dangerous enemies, do not find yourself in the midst of it.”
If only she knew that you were already standing in the midst of it all. You took the plates to carefully carry them up the stairs. “Thank you for the meals.”
“You’re welcome. And once your ‘friend’-” she truly enunciated the word, “-feels better, do ask him if he could be so kind to move some of the lumber from behind the inn inside for the fireplace. There is no rush, but I would appreciate the help.”
It was a small favor to ask for in return for the hospitality she had shown. “I will ask. And he is truly just a friend, that is already complicated enough as it is.”
Her voice got a little louder, as if she meant to embarrass you in a playful way, “Perhaps it is complicated because he keeps imagining all the sins he would commit if he were to get you into bed.”
It caused your cheeks to burn. You tried to hush her. “What?! No! Of course not! He’s not like that-”
She arched a brow after you said the last part. “He’s not?”
Doubt was dripping off her tone and her expression, it only got you more flustered. She was such an open personality, unafraid to voice her thoughts and opinions and you found yourself at their mercy.
“He’s not.” you said firmly. Aware that your expression did not match the confidence of your voice.
A cheeky laugh escaped her. “Alright, don’t get so nervous. Who would I be to judge you for seeking some comfort in the arms of a monk?”
You rolled your eyes and turned away from her, carrying the plates in hand to carry them up the stairs. “You should write a book with that kind of imagination, Amelia.”
A laugh rippled through her chest and the sound followed you up the stairs, it wasn’t until you were in the room and had closed the door that you finally stopped hearing it. You placed the plates of stew down on the table. Percival was at the table not a blink of an eye later, Lancelot was more patient in his approach. He did not sit down yet when he saw you ignore the meal to attach your dagger to your new belt as well.
You finally noticed once you were done with the task. “Go on, sit. You don’t have to wait for me, you need your meals to get healthy again.”
“So do you.” he said whilst taking seat beside Percival.
You took the remaining plate of stew to eat on the bed. “How are your wounds? Is that ointment still working?”
“It is wearing off I believe.” He took a bite. “The vials will bring some relief.”
Those vials were good for fever, but you were not sure how well it would work against dirt getting into the wounds. “But you need ointment to protect you from infections, and it helps to quicken the process of healing. I’ll go search for what I need after the meal.”
He shook his head. “Tomorrow is better.”
You frowned. “But-”
He would not hear it. “There is no need to scour the woods for me at night. I will not perish within hours. You should concern yourself over your own health more, have your own bruises even healed yet?”
“ Fine, I’ll go tomorrow.” you agreed to it. “And they’re almost gone.”
“How did you get bruises?” Percival asked with his mouth full.
“Paladins.” You spared the boy of the darker truth, drank the last of the broth that was left of the stew and put the plate down on the bed.
Lancelot scolded the boy for the lack of manners. “Do not talk with a full mouth.”
“Why?” Percival asked with his mouth still full.
“It is not proper.”
“Why?”
Lancelot sighed when the boy kept speaking whilst he chewed. “I can see right into your mouth. It ruins the appetite.”
Percival rolled his eyes and finally swallowed the food down. “Then don’t look.”
Those two conversing was so entertaining to watch. Lancelot trying to help the boy learn some manners, whilst the boy reacted to it as if Lancelot was exaggerating. The patience he had with the child was admirable. You watched their entire interaction, and Percival proved quite talented at trying to change the topic when it was most convenient for him.
An unexpected question of the boy derailed their entire conversation. “That man that talked to you before you fought those masked paladins, why did he ask if I could smell the Fey? Can you smell who is Fey?”
Lancelot had finished his plate not long after Percival had, and confirmed what the boy believed to be true. “Ash Folk have a strong sense of smell. Fey kind gives of a different sort of scent than Manblood.”
The boy looked somewhat confused. “Different how?”
He leaned back into the chair. “Imagine it as a cloak hanging over them at all times, a fresh scent much like young grass. It is different for all Fey, but it always smells similar to what one can find in the woods.”
You had never been able to put the scent into words, but his description made complete sense. “It prickles the nose.”
His attention turned to you. “Yes.”
“But not in a bad way.” you assured Percival. “I can’t pick up on scents as good as he can, but his description fits.”
Lancelot was glad to hear that you experienced it in a similar way. “I can ignore most scents, it would overwhelm my senses too greatly otherwise. But I will always notice the Fey scent.”
“Because you used it to find us?” Percival was starting to piece the puzzle together again.
Lancelot gave a small nod, aware how even the boy must have realized how terrible it was that a Fey had used his abilities against his own kind.
It lead Percival to chase the truth. “Why were you with them? If you’re Fey, why did you fight against us?”
You didn’t want this to end in trouble. “Percival-”
“It’s alright.” Lancelot said to you. “He has a right to know.”
You rose from the bed and approached Percival, leaning onto the back of the chair with your arm as Lancelot began his story. He told the boy how he ended up in the hands of Father Carden, what was expected of him and why. Percival had not been so quiet in quite some time, often a look of confusion set in his eyes to which Lancelot explained a little more.
“Do you really think we’re damned?” The boy asked.
Lancelot got quieter. “I do not know what to believe anymore.”
Percival looked down for a second, chewing his lip. “But you won’t hurt the Fey anymore?”
That was at least one thing he was certain of. “No. Not unless it is to defend us from danger.”
To the boy it was an agreeable condition. Percival still had some questions that were a little less hard to answer, mostly about how monks lived and how they prayed. You did notice that Lancelot was careful not to mention how they used the scourge on themselves. The memory of the wounds he had inflicted upon himself the last time he had done so was etched into your mind, you doubted those were not still hurting him even just sitting there.
    “Alright.” You grabbed their empty plates. “Whilst you two talk further, I’m taking these downstairs before it attracts flies into the room.”
They barely acknowledged the announcement, Percival was too engulfed in what Lancelot was telling him and Lancelot was too concentrated on not saying something that the boy was too young to hear about. So you headed down to the inn, Amelia was sweeping the floor and gave a grateful nod when she saw you carrying the plates down.
“To lessen some of your workload.” You held the plates up. “Do I put them in the kitchen?”
“Please do. Thank you.” She continued her task of cleaning the inn for the night.
The baker, Charles, was still up and sat at a table alone, you had to walk past him to go to the kitchen. “Care to offer a listening ear again, or perhaps accept one for yourself?”
You walked past him. “My ears always listen. I’ll put these in the kitchen first.”
Once you returned from the kitchen, he was awaiting your presence and leaned over the table to move the other chair so you could sit. Again he told of his life, about how before he became a baker he dreamed of being a bard, and when he offered to play on his lute you had to tell him that those already asleep in the inn upstairs might not appreciate the music at that hour. He was rather sweet, it was nice to listen to him talk. He had some quite amusing stories to tell about how some patrons would empty out a loaf of bread and try to return the shell of it to get their coin back.
Charles leaned a little closer over the table, his hands wrapped around the tankard that was long since emptied. “And you, what sort of stories can you tell me?”
It made you get evasive. “I’m not that interesting.”
He tsk-ed. “Nonsense. I see stories in those beautiful eyes.”
“‘Beautiful eyes’?” A chuckle escaped you. It had been a while since such flattery had been aimed your way.
“Not used to flattery?” he sounded surprised. “Hard to believe from someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” You had a cheeky grin.
“I enjoy your company and would love to enjoy it for the rest of the night.” Charles made no secret of his intentions, especially when he reached over to place a hand over your own.
A plate was put down on the table between you and Charles, who jolted back in his chair from the loud clattering it made. You reacted the same way, your heartbeat spiked. It was not Amelia who had put the plate down on the table, no, Lancelot had brought down your empty plate that you had forgotten upstairs in the room.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Charles asked rightfully irritated.
    "Her husband.”
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themuselesswriter · 1 year ago
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Top, Bottom or Switch - Daniel Sharman
Okay so the other day I was thinking (and you know that's never good) about Daniel Sharman's most famous characters and for some reason I have a theory that lots of his characters are bottoms in bed, so you guys will have to suffer my classification! Lorenzo De Medici This is the only character that I think of as a top. He seems like an expert at what he's doing, he always initiates the sexual interactions and he seems like the type of a guy who would come from a work day and be like "here love, let me take care of you for the rest of the night" and besides, he is kind of a hoe and his vibes are dominant.
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Kelly Lord he is the type of guy who would be like "I'm an alpha dog bruh" but he is secretly a bottom, but he is the type of bottom that doesn't like to admit that he is a bottom if that makes sense? Like, he would throw in a fit but he would end up being a bottom, he would enjoy it, then feel ashamed or shy about it and he doesn't show this side of him unless he really trusts their partner cause he would be afraid that it would slip and his family would know and make fun of him.
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Lancelot Du Lac (The Weeping Monk) Oh he screams bottom. Like, he wouldn't think about taking a sexual partner until he's out of the paladins' reach and when that happens, he would be too overwhelmed by all the decision making and the changes, so he would have a hard time expressing that he wants to be taken care of in the bedroom and that being a bottom gives him a sense of comfort and familiarity, he would even try to fake being a top to his partner just to please them but his partner would eventually figure it out.
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Isaac Lahey In my humble opinion, Isaac is a switch. He initiates sexual interactions, he is confident, egoistic and loves the look of pleasure on his partner's face when he is getting it right so he would be a top leaning. However, there are days where his past hunts him and he feels the most vulnerable, on these days, he would prefer to be a bottom and have tender sexual interactions instead.
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Troy Otto My man is a bottom and no one can convince me otherwise. He gives off top vibes in life but bottom vibes in bed, he is kinda oblivious when it comes to sexual interactions, his partner would need to initiate them (I have theory that Troy is a virgin, okay?!) and like, he would experiment a little but settle down to enjoying being taking care of in bed because it is such a precious feeling that he rarely gets to experience, to be looked after, loved, treated well, so yeah, he's a bottom.
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Anyhooo, thank you for sticking around for my TedTalk! Next Episode: what type of fruit are you based on your favorite Bridgerton quote:'). Also, do you guys have different theories about these characters or different ones?
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beginning-writer · 16 days ago
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Pretty sure Lancelot is the type of boyfriend who would just steal their partner's clothes.
One random day Gawain wakes up and sees Lancelot wearing a colorful shirt and immediately realizes it's his shirt. Lancelot doesn't say anything, and Gawain doesn't say anything because he was trying to suppress his smile cause he think it's cute how his boyfriend steal his clothes.
"New shirt?" Gawain asks, still trying to supress the smile, and falling miserably. Lancelot gives him a glare, but doesn't reply his tease.
"Did you like the smell?" He tries again, giving up on hiding his smile and leaning against the wall.
"Smells like trash." The ash replies. But it was a lie, or pure sarcasm. He loved Gawain's scent and the knight could have an idea of that since his shirt was stolen.
Gawain rolls his eyes and comes closer to Lancelot "Sure It does." The man anwsers, kissing the ash cheek, and then his jaw, and finally his mouth.
@lancedoncrimsonwings i think you deserve to read some casual - which I don't usually post very much.
@dinogod ✨Gays of the round table✨
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cestacruz · 1 year ago
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Hairstyle swapp with the tam lin and the round table knights
I apologize for Lancelot. It couldnt get better.
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jplupine · 2 years ago
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In the Wolf's Den: Chapter 6
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Pairing: The Weeping Monk x Devin [Nonbinary Fey OC] Word Count: ~3.7k WARNINGS: 18+ Minors/Ageless get blocked, Exophilia, Feral Behavior, Angst, Religious Trauma, Little Spot of Fluff, Brief Nudity
Summary: A trip to the Wolf Folk village before a hawk brings a letter.
You can also read it on AO3!
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Masterlist | Chapter 6:
  After Squirrel had returned with his new stick, Lancelot went straight to brushing down Goliath. He didn't look at anyone but at least acknowledged the boy and told him they would resume training once Goliath had been seen to. Squirrel didn't seem to pick up on the shift of Lancelot's behavior at all.
  When the man had finally stopped crying, he seemed to snap out of whatever state he was in and couldn't look me in the eye anymore. If I could guess at anything, I would assume Lancelot was embarrassed by his actions.
  Squirrel, on the other hand, was excited to hear I would be taking him to the Wolf village tomorrow. He would have to bathe and put on a clean set of clothes first, of course. If anyone caught my scent on him, it would give me away no matter how I disguised myself.
  Once I'd told him some more about the village, he'd run off back outside since Lancelot had finished brushing Goliath. I listened from inside the cave as the man instructed the boy while my mind wandered.
  All he had ended up confessing to me wasn't something I could easily brush off. He had laid bare his truth and his confliction. I didn't even know how to feel about being told I, in many ways, showed more of his God's grace than his own Father Carden.
  Of course, I wasn't showing his God's grace- I did not believe nor ascribe to that religion. However, Lancelot still did, and that was what he felt to be true. And there was some humor to be found in it all as well. I'd been concerned I was too harsh on him, that my crueler choice words would drive him right back to the church, only to learn the opposite to be true.
  That I was leading him out of the darkness.
  I also now understood his reactions to the story of the first Wolf Folk. The she-wolf of that story had her prayers answered and found a new home while Lancelot's prayers were met with silence and his own fear of damnation.
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  Rising from the water, I took a breath while pushing my hair out of my face. Birds flew by overhead as there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Hearing the woods and the running water of the river was rather calming.
  Standing there in the river that came up to my hips, I lazily ran my fingers through the cool water. The sun felt wonderful on my skin since it wasn't too hot out. The chill of winter would be coming around the corner, so it was best to relish in this weather while it still lasted.
  My ears flicked back, catching the sound of foliage rustling. The movement was quiet, so I doubted it was a human with how loud they could be in the woods. Looking over my shoulder to check, I stretched out my claws just in case.
  "I brought the change of clothes you asked for. I cannot fathom how you plan to make them fit...." Lancelot trailed off as he stopped in his tracks. He carried a pile of folded clothes with him that he was now gripping so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
  I rose a brow since he'd gone silent, and Lancelot quickly turned his face toward the sky as his face bloomed bright red.
  "I didn't know you were already in the river, I swear." He said rather quickly before spinning on his heel to turn his back on me.
  "You have seen me naked before, Lancelot. There is no need to be bashful now." I chuckled while seeing how red his ears were getting.
  "As I have told you many times, I was not myself then. I-It is sinful to-"
  "Not a woman, remember?"
  "It doesn't matter. One is not supposed to look upon the nude form of another."
  "Unless they are married."
  "Yes. Wait, how do you know that?" His head slightly turned, but he kept facing the woods.
  "Wisdom of the Ravens, remember?"
  "I remember."
  "So you seriously cannot look at me?" I crossed my arms while tilting my head. "Even though you have been balls deep inside of me many times before?"
  "Y-Yes." Lancelot dropped his gaze to the ground as he shifted his weight on his feet. "That is also....very sinful." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Even more sinful, actually." He added, speaking barely over a whisper.
  With his head tilted down, I could see how the back of his neck flushed. The man's face had to be as red as a ripe tomato by now. This was so different from before, and I couldn't help but find it amusing.
  "Then how do you expect to give me those clothes if you cannot even look at me?"
  "Turn around."
  "Turn around?"
  "With your back to me. I will set them down near yours."
  "All right, then." I said but didn't move an inch. I wanted to see how he was going to do this without looking at me since my clothes were piled on the edge of the river right in front of me.
  "Have you turned?"
  "Yeah, yeah. Just set the clothes down." Lancelot hesitated even after I gave him the go-ahead. When he turned, his eyes landed right on me- my chest specifically.
  "Jesus Christ-!" He hissed as he jerked his head back in the direction of the woods. I burst into laughter, finding his reaction utterly ridiculous. I understood my heat made him throw away chastity and modesty, but I didn't have anything he hadn't already seen. "This is not funny."
  "Oh, but it is. You have seen my body both in bed and in your head, but now you avert your gaze like a blushing maiden?"
  "I was raised devout Christian. Nudity is not....commonplace. I also see you lack modesty whether in heat or not."
  "Oh, you see, huh?" I laughed, watching his shoulders rise.
  "You know what I mean, Devin." My ears twitched as my smile fell. Even after calling him Lancelot for this long, he had never said my name in turn.
  Until now.
  A tingle went up my spine as I found myself quite liking how his voice said my name. Swallowing, I briefly glanced away before regaining my composure.
  "Fine. I won't do it again." I said before lowering myself into the water up to my chin. "Okay, I promise you can turn around now without seeing me naked." Lancelot was even more reluctant to turn now, but he eventually did, and my mouth went under the water.
  He really was as red as a tomato. He was also quick to set the clothes down before rushing off back into the woods. Standing back up once he was no longer in view, I grabbed the soap among my belongings.
  Once I was done bathing in the river, I wrung out as much water as possible from my hair and fur. Picking up Lancelot's shirt first, I sniffed at it to make sure my own scent wasn't on it. However, his strongly was. How was it he could smell like this?
  Bringing the garment closer to my face, I deeply inhaled through my nose. I was picking up so many things on the shirt, most of which were just him. It was such a nice scent, though, and my tail began to wag.
  I didn't care this time- It wasn't as if anyone could see it.
  My ears twitched again before swiveling, hearing incoherent whispers in the woods around me. Lowering the shirt, I quickly looked around as I was on high alert. However, when I saw nothing, I realized the whispers came from the Hidden.
  It wasn't often that I heard them. But when I did, it seemed to be at the most random of times. Now included.
  Sighing through my nose, I pulled the shirt over my head before grabbing the trousers. Lancelot had thankfully brought a belt as well that I used to keep the pants on my hips. The clothes were indeed too big for me, but simply rolling up the pant legs fixed the length issue.
  Draping the cloak over my shoulders, I made sure to tie it on tight. I didn't want it to fall off at the worst possible moment. I left my hair down to air dry as I carefully gathered up my things and carried them at arm's length back to the cave.
  Lancelot wasn't there when I returned, and I didn't pay it much mind given what happened earlier. After dropping my clothes on my bed, Squirrel and I left to have time to get to the village and back before nightfall.
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  "Do we really have to leave after we get the sword?" Squirrel asked as we were riding together on Goliath.
  "I do plan to get some supplies and food. There's a vendor here that sells the best roasted elk I have ever had." I replied while seeing the village up ahead.
  "How do you even have money if you don't work?"
  "I work." My brows furrowed as I looked at Squirrel. "I've been working this entire time."
  "How? You go nowhere, and no one comes to your cave."
  "Well, my pelts sell mainly in the fall and winter. I provide my own food most of the year to save money, and in the summer and spring, I sell herbs from the woods. Those bundles you saw me prepping to dry- did you think I was keeping all of them?"
  "You have a lot of bottles with dried plants in them. How was I supposed to know?" Squirrel's response made me chuckle. Dismounting from Goliath, I then held up my hand to help the boy down.
  He took my hand before hopping off of the large horse to the ground. Grabbing Goliath's reins, we then walked into the village together. My hood was low to cover my face, and being covered in Lancelot's scent seemed to be working so far.
  The village was alive with chatter and laughter. Children ran around, chasing each other or their toys. Squirrel was lit up with interest as his eyes took in everything around him.
  The last time he had been anywhere full of people like this was Gramaire. However, Gramaire was very different from a Wolf Folk village.
  "Stay out of trouble, and you can explore." I turned Squirrel around to make him face me as I leaned down. Pulling a few coins from my pocket, I held them out for him to take. "No mischief, you hear?"
  "I hear." He grinned while taking the coins.
  "Either wait here when you are done, or I will find you when I am."
  "Okay." Squirrel nodded, and I ruffled his hair before he ran off. I didn't have to worry about his safety- he was a Sky Folk boy, and this was a village of wolves. He stuck out in the crowd, and children here were raised with the aid of the community, meaning no matter where he went in the village, someone would have an eye or ear out for him.
  Not to mention if he got into trouble, he was scrappy and loud. It would be impossible for no one to notice.
  Leading Goliath further into the village, I noticed there were a handful of other Fey present as well. From where I stood, I could see a few Snake Clan and a couple of Tusks. Had some refugees found their way here?
  Walking on, I soon found myself standing outside a familiar home. Taking in a deep breath, I pondered a little longer on whether or not I should turn back now. I already came this far, though.
  Tying Goliath's reins to a post, I pat the horse's neck.
  "Wish me luck, would ya?" I whispered. As if understanding, he nickered. "Thanks." I chuckled before nervously straightening out the oversized shirt as I walked toward the front door.
  Knocking, I waited for the door to open. I could hear my heart beating in my ears. I hadn't seen my family in a few years and wasn't sure how much had changed or if anything had at all.
  "Hello?" My mother's face was the first one I saw. She glanced at the horse from over my shoulder before looking at me with confusion. "Can I help you?"
  "Can I come in first?" I asked in a soft tone while raising my hood to where only she could see my face. She took in a sharp breath before grabbing me by the shirt and yanking me inside. The door slammed shut, and I had to catch my balance to keep from falling on my face. "Wanna yank a little harder next time, Ma?"
  "What in the world are you doing here, Devin? You know you-"
  "Relax. Not even you recognized me."
  "Because you smell like a-" This time she cut herself off as her burnt orange eyes narrowed at me. She stepped closer, sniffing at me while I pushed the hood off of my head. "You smell like a man and definitely not even a wolf." Her tone sharpened. "Who is it this time, huh?"
  "You make it sound like I'm promiscuous. And it is not what you think. This is just a disguise."
  "From?"
  "A friend." I replied while glancing around. There were some new things like a replaced table and blooming herbs hanging from the ceiling. "Oh, you managed to find some of these this late in the season? And this big?" Delicately touching the pale blue flowers surrounded by greenery, I could feel my mother's gaze cutting through me. "What?"
  "Devin, I have missed you so, but you know it is not safe for you to come here."
  "My family is worth the risk. Where's Pa?"
  "He should be back any minute."
  "Okay, I get your concern, but why am I getting such attitude?" I gestured at my mother while looking at her expression and body language.
  "Because you never wrote."
  "I wasn't sure any of you would want me to." I admitted. "After everything happened, I had no clue where I stood."
  "Oh, Devin." Ma heavily sighed before she pulled me into a warm hug. "You are still a part of this family."
  "Even after the shame I brought? I remember how Pa nearly burst a vein."
  "Yes, even after." Ma pulled away and held me at arm's length. "Your sister is pregnant, by the way."
  "Cara? Pregnant? Shit, since when?" I asked as my eyebrows rose high on my forehead.
  "We found out last month. She'll be due next summer." Ma chuckled.
  "Is she joined too?"
  "Two years ago."
  "Two years?" I had to sit down as I rubbed my forehead. "Fuck. What about Darragh? Ciaran?"
  "Darragh is to be joined this winter, and Ciaran is....Ciaran." Ma softly laughed while taking a seat next to me at the table. "That boy may never settle down."
  "It has only been a few years." I mumbled.
  "A lot can happen in that time, Devin. What of you? Joined? Expecting? Planning?"
  "Nothing of the sort." I waved my hand as my brows furrowed.
  "Still courting, then?" Ma quirked up a brow at me as she glanced down at my clothes again.
  "I told you, these are just from a friend for a disguise. I swear I am not with anyone."
  "At least half my children are growing to be fine adults. I would have preferred better odds."
  "Oh, come off it. I fare well for myself."
  "You smell like a man you swear is not your partner, who is clearly Fey, but I cannot even tell what kind, and you even have the scent of a Sky Folk on you."
  "The two are temporarily in my care. The Sky Folk is a boy with the foulest mouth I have encountered a child having."
  "Fouler than you?" Ma joked, and we both laughed. "So what is it you do now? Are you a healer?"
  "Not really. I have had to use your teachings, though. I still deal in pelts and sell herbs."
  "Then why are the two you insist on being vague about in your care?"
  "I agreed to provide them shelter until they can regroup with their people."
  "The paladins?" Ma gave a knowing look, and I nodded. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Horrid, those men are. We have been lucky thus far."
  "Do you not worry how long that will last?"
  "It is ever-present in our minds. Nearly everyone in the village has made plans for a quick escape shall the need ever arise." Ma reached across the table to take my hand in hers. "I know you want to ask."
  "....What of Odhran and Liam?"
  "Odhran is still alone." Ma's tone was somber. "His broken heart has taken some time in healing."
  "I did not intend to hurt him so."
  "I know." Ma nodded while rubbing her thumb over my knuckles. "Liam.... Well," She sighed. "he is joined and has a litter." I ran a hand through my hair while sighing.
  "I really was a fool."
  "You cannot blame yourself, child. You do not choose who you love."
  "Yeah, but clearly Odhran would have been the wiser choice. At least he loved me so deeply to still be heartbroken after all this time. And I would still be with my family."
  "The past has happened. You were young and following your heart."
  "Of which I will never do again."
  "Try not to speak too soon." Ma gently squeezed my hand. "The heart can lead to wonderful things."
  "Aileen? Whose horse is that?" Pa's voice called out as the front door opened. He was still looking at Goliath as he stepped inside. When he turned, I saw the confused look on his face before it quickly turned to shock at seeing me.
  "Hi, Pa." And the door slammed shut.
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  Storing the bought supplies into Goliath's saddlebags, I made sure nothing was going to fall out. I was glad to have gotten time with my parents even if I missed seeing my siblings. However, Ma and Pa had told me stories well enough about them to help me catch up on what I had missed.
  And now that I had finished getting what I needed, I had to go find Squirrel. Calmly walking with the horse, I didn't want to draw attention to myself nor come off as suspicious. Acting as if I were simply passing through as some others were was enough to keep my identity hidden.
  Lancelot's scent threw other people off so much that they would never guess it was me under the hood. I had known these vendors, grown up with them and around them, but no one could tell who I was. I wasn't too surprised by that since not even my own mother had been able to recognize me.
  I eventually found Squirrel sword fighting with another boy around his age. He looked as if he was having fun and winning while the Wolf Boy was asking where he learned to fight as he did.
  "Squirrel!" I called out to get his attention. "It's time to go." He nodded to me before turning back to the kids he was with to say his goodbyes. They were all waving and bidding him farewell as he ran my way. "Have fun?"
  "Yeah." He had such a bright smile. Storing his wooden sword away in his belt, Squirrel then looked up at me with his hands on his hips. "Now, where is this roasted elk you mentioned before?"
  "Work up an appetite training?" I softly laughed while leading the way to where I remember the vendor being.
  "Wolf kids are a lot faster than I thought they would be."
  "Make any friends?"
  "Maybe."
  "Maybe is not a no."
  "We are getting some for Lancelot, too, right?"
  "Of course. Don't want him to get moody as he does for being left out." I joked.
  "....Either you are really good at hiding how you feel, or you really don't want to stab him anymore." Squirrel's words made me look at him with a twisted expression.
  "What?"
  "Lancelot. You haven't glared at him in a while now. Also, you care about how he feels."
  "I do not-"
  "'Don't want him to get moody as he does'." Squirrel mocked me while waving his hand. Rolling my eyes, I looked ahead of us as I could smell cooking meat.
  "Why do you want me to like him so much?"
  "So that I'm not the only one who does. He could use more people that like him." He answered. "Nimue said that even if you are lost, so long as you have people that care about you, you will find your way home."
  "Those are some wise words."
  "Mm-hm." Squirrel hummed. Reaching the roasted elk vendor, I bought three portions before leaving the village and heading back home.
  Riding in quiet, I contemplated what Squirrel had said. He'd clearly grown more attached to Lancelot. However, I could understand why. Beneath the Weeping Monk was a man worth redeeming. It was a source of my own confliction how Lancelot could be so kind and concerned and yet have the blood of only gods know how many Fey on his hands.
  My ears twitched when I heard the call of a hawk. Looking toward the sky, I had to quickly raise my arm when a bird flew down right at us. The hawk landed on my arm as Squirrel twisted in his seat to look.
  "There's something tied to its leg." He stated before reaching up to untie what was no doubt a letter from the bird's leg. As soon as he had it in his hands, the bird flew off. "It's from Arthur."
  "And?" I rose a brow to encourage him to say more about what he was reading.
  "And I hope you have money for a horse."
  "....What?"
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