#and then was knighted between 18-21

[blood-orange-juice]

About Childe and his weird ethics.

He reminds me of what I know of real world medieval knights. Chivalry was a thing only applied to equals.

There was no glory in harming noncombatants and generally you would want to avoid that, but if you absolutely needed to sack a city (or take a city hostage to lure out its patron deity) then no one would blame you.

There was a lot of scheming too.

There's certain irony in wanting to be a fairytale knight and becoming a real one instead.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tormented Spirit | 20

Part 1 [...] 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, smut (cunnilingus), emotional constipation, pregnancy, miscarriage, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: shout out to mah girl @m-riaa who requested for sexy times. Yeah so if you like it say thx n if you don't LMAO | crossposted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @astrogirl01

"Darling, don't eat that," you grab the wooden dragon the small boy was nibbling on and offer him a spoonful of cooled porridge. The boy stares at the spoon before opening his mouth. His sister beside him opens her mouth upon seeing this. You smile at her and feed her some porridge after.

After a few bites, they both go back to playing, quickly uninterested in your porridge. The door opens and, quickly, they are uninterested in their toys when their father walks in. "KEPA!"

You smile at Daemon. He immediately kneels beside you where you and your children had been sprawled out on the floor. He scoops up his girl, kissing her cheek, "ñuha litse, Alyrie. Eman ozmijegon ao olvie." My pretty Alyrie. I've missed you very much.

"SKOROS NŪMĀZMA NYKE?" cries the boy. WHAT ABOUT ME?

You laugh at him, watching him stand and jump into Daemon's arms.

His father catches him and nuzzles his nose into the young prince's neck, "hen rhinka nyke ozmijegon ao, Alaeric." Of course I missed you, Alaeric.

"Se muña?" Alyrie grabs Daemon's face, making the man turn to her then to you. And mother?

Daemon kisses the princess's silver hair before turning to you, "I missed her the most."

Your eyes open just before he kisses you. You rub your lips, finding them cold from the night air. Tears rush down your skin.

You slowly sit. The dark of night still seeps through your window and the sun had yet to rise. It felt like an omen, that you dreamed about your twins the very night their father left you... again.

Perhaps it was.

You feel sick; your mouth waters, telling that you will soon vomit. You groan and push yourself out of bed, walking to your vanity to smell some balms to sooth yourself. When the tanginess of your lemon oil harbors your bubbling belly, you sigh and decide to get dressed for the day.

Once you are in your grabs, you pin your hair into a bun. You stare at your reflection for a moment, warring the impulse to retch. You stand and head outside, eager to inhale some fresh air.

You startled when you open the door, not expecting anyone outside.

"Princess," they say in unison.

You look between your knights, heart pinching at the sight of them, "...my twins."

Arryk takes in your pale face, frowning, "should you not still be in bed?"

You shake your head, "I had a dream... a terrible dream..."

They both step forward.

You wipe your face before the tears even begin to fall. You groan when they reach for you, knowing you will continue to crumble at their affection.

You pull away and shake your head, "no... I..."

They immediately retreat, knowing to give you space. Erryk can't help the hurt he feels though, and wonders if it was overwhelming to have both of them here. Had he been alone, would you have still rejected his touch?

"I dreamt about my twins..." you sigh, feeling your throat tighten.

The Cargylls remain silent.

You sniffle and shake your head, "shall we head to the gardens?"

They silently come to your side and follow you.

You feel a pinch in your belly and groan, rubbing the area.

This alerts them. "What's wrong?"

You shake your head, "I feel sick."

"Shall we go to the maester-"

"No," you reach for an arm. You find Arryk's and he immediately offers you support. You draw a deep breath, "I need fresh air."

Their worry does not wane when you reach the gardens. It had been a long time since they had seen you this way, both because you had slowly been getting better and that you had not spent as much time with them anymore. Once again, it was all your husband's leave that brought you crashing down.

The brothers share a look; so much is said in their silence. Perhaps only one of us should have come. Having us both present might be too much. Damn that Rogue Prince for doing this all over again.

You sit down by the fountains, taking deep breaths in and out. You rub your belly, groaning as you did. You bite your lip to hold back tears when you begin to realize how similar this scene was. You mumble, "I feel like I'm having a miscarriage."

Their stomachs drop at the thought. Erryk kneels beside you, taking your hand, and Arryk gestures, "you need to breathe, your grace."

You retch, "I'm going to vomit."

Erryk moves out of the way as you stand and run to the bushes, the sourness of your empty stomach gushes out of your mouth.

"Seven fucking hells," Erryk mutters as Arryk comes to your side.

You hear him call your name and you gulp, wiping your mouth on your sleeve. Exhaustion and pain move you to tears.

"Perhaps you ought to break your fast," Arryk offers, helping you stand upright.

You shake your head, "I will only get sicker."

"You might be sick because you have not eaten," Erryk gently explains.

"I do not wish to eat right now," you blurt, gesturing in refusal.

Arryk feels you shudder as you sigh. He frowns and places his hands on your shoulders, "when was your last meal?"

"Before Daemon left," you mutter.

Erryk clenches his jaw, "so the wedding last night."

"You must eat something," coaxed Arryk.

"Please," you raise a hand, "later, I just-" you sigh, "I just need to breathe right now."

The twins are powerless against your wishes, no matter how wary they are of it. You sit by the fountain, beckoning them over.

Erryk sits beside you and Arryk shoots him a look, shaking his head in disapproval. Erryk mutters, "it's an ungodly hour..."

"And it is precisely why—"

"Who's going to se-"

"What if someone sees—"

"Please," you lean your head into your hand, "I just... let me have this," you look up, giving Arryk the beady eyed look that makes him weak in the knees.

Erryk glares to get him to submit and Arryk nearly shoves him because of it. Still, the latter sits beside you and you sigh in relief. You shift and lean against Erryk's breast plate then rest your legs upon Arryk's lap.

Erryk rubs your shoulder. Arryk sigh and clutches your ankles.

"I feel empty..." you mutter through wobbly lips.

The man behind you sighs, "you have made much progress, princess. You are stronger than you were last time."

"I don't want to be strong," you close your eyes, feeling tears run down your face, "I tire... tis always this way."

Arryk clenches his teeth when you begin to weep. He grabs his cloak and wipes your tears.

The three of your remain here until the sun rises.

You eventually yield to their urges of breaking fast. They eat with you but finish far quicker as you found it a chore to feed yourself. You barely ate half of your meal and it was already cold when you hear someone walk the door open.

The Cargylls, who were presently stood by the door, bow at the princess, "good morn."

Rhaenyra freezes at the sight of them, not expecting two... or even one, honestly. She feels rather conscious and grumpy about the one currently shadowing her. She walks into the room, eyeing Harwin who tails behind her, "I did not know you were so strangled, dear aunt."

You turn from your meal to the newly wed. She looks like she slept horribly. You push yourself up to curtsy at her, but she stops you with a hand raise before you could. You slump back in your chair.

"I figured you would be in better spirits because you left the wedding early," says the princess as she takes the chair beside you, "but clearly it isn't so."

You only notice Harwin at this point because he greets you then shares a laugh with the Cargylls.

Rhaenyra softly fumes at it.

"I apologize for leaving ea-"

"Don't be," she leans into her chair, "a fight broke out and the hall had to be cleared before the ceremony commenced."

You stiffen, "oh," you shake your head, "are you alri-"

"How do you do it?"

You watch Rhaenyra clutch your arm.

"How do you stand a large oaf looming over you, telling you what you should and shouldn't do?" she mutters, "two at that."

You pull your head back and steal a glance at Harwin. Lord Strong was a not of schemes or malice, though he was called Break Bones. You've spoken to him on occasion and found him to be rather gentle, but then again, most people were in fear you would break. You turn back to her, "I do not stand them."

Rhaenyra's brow quirks.

"I enjoy their company."

Her face hardens, then she pulls back.

"I am fortunate."

"You are," she crosses her arms, "he is controlling."

You knit your brows at that, "I do not understand. Is Harwin your ward?"

"As of last night," she groans, "my father fears I might encounter another act of violence."

"Ah," you slowly nod, "well, the king does it in con-"

"He made me wake before my usual hour," Rhaenyra snaps, leaning back into you, "I told him sleep until I mean to, and he said it would be good to practice a schedule for when I am Queen."

You furrow your brows at the petulant look upon her face but cannot help but chuckle when she crosses her arms. You hum and shake your head, "that is frustrating."

She narrows her eyes, "you don't agree with his reasoning?"

You shrug, "rest is a ruby and discipline an emerald. Both are valuable and I would not throw one for the other."

She thinks about your words for a moment. "I am irritated," she blurts, "I do not need yet another man to tell me what to do."

You lower your head, taking a deep breath, "I understand you completely," you offer her a soft smile, "but instead of fighting him, perhaps you can work with him."

Rhaenyra raises a brow.

"It's much easier to swim with the current, is it not?" you mutter, "perhaps the next time he persists on his way, instead of persisting on yours, you offer a middle ground."

The heiress gives you a look, "why should I offer middle ground? I am his superior."

Your smile grows sympathetic, "we are women."

Her jaw sets. She lifts her nose, "Iksan Perzys Ānogār." I am Fire and Blood."

Your smile widens. You rub her arm, "pār kostilus ao should botagon bē aōla." Then perhaps you should persist upon yourself.

Rhaenyra's proud expression falters. She was not expecting such a response from you. Your face shines though it was clear you were not in the best of conditions. You were earnest... and suddenly, she could see so clearly why her uncle was so besotted.

"Daemon has gone again-"

You tense at her sudden words.

"-but he does not desire that you suffer in consequence like how you once did," she explains.

You feel sick all over again, like all of what little you had eaten wishes to be free.

Rhaenyra leans her head, "he instructed me to be the keeper of your peace whilst he is gone."

Your lips part.

"I shall do so," she shakes her head, "not because my uncle commands me, but because I should..." she stands, "one day I will be queen."

She waves you off when you try to stand to regard her. You watch her walk off with Harwin following closely after. You stand and walk towards your wards with pursed lips, "she's so much like my sister." You shake your head with a huff, "I mourn their friendship."

They follow you walk out of the room. One offers, "we know not what the future holds. They might yet rekindle their friendship."

You say nothing to this.

You head to your sister's chambers.

"Praise the Seven," mutters Alicent the moment she sees you. You stop in your tracks when your sister runs up to you. She grips your hands, eyes solemn as she whispers, "I'm with child."

You freeze.

"The maesters say it's possible I have been for a few moons now," her breath shakes, "I've just given birth. I fear I might not be strong enough to-"

"Cast the thought away," you clutch her cheek, "you are the strongest person I know."

She speaks your name and you immediately embrace her. Alicent melts into your shoulder, taking in your scent. Your wards watch display a few paces back.

"I am here for you," you rub her back, "you have done well with Aegon and Helaena."

Alicent clenches her teeth and screws her eyes shut, but slowly allows her to relax against you.

"Auntie!"

You find Aegon running up to you.

"DRAGON!" calls the boy, tugging your skirt, "I want to see my dragon."

Alicent moves back as you crouch down to the boy, "you want to go to the pit?"

He nods, "I want to fly with Sunfyre!"

You chuckle, brushing his hair back, "Sunfyre is still too small to ride, my love."

"But I want to!"

"I know, my love, but you must wait until he's big enough."

"Did uncle wait for Caraxes to get big?"

You smile falters as you think of Daemon, but you catch yourself and shake your head, "Caraxes was already big when he was a baby."

Aegon's jaw drops, "lucky..."

You chuckle.

"Will you go to the pit with me, my love?" Aegon reaches for your cheeks, effectively reaching for your heart.

"Aww, of course," you coo, pulling him into an embrace. You look up at your sister, "may we go to the pit, sister?"

Alicent rubs her belly and nods, "will you embroider with me after?"

You agree with a smile, taking Aegon's hand as you come to a stand.

When you reach the pits, Aegon gasps at the sight of Caraxes. Since his illness, he remained sprawled outside the chasm of the pit, as he was loath to move.

"CARAXES!" Aegon excitedly points.

You turn to him with a grin, "Caraxes!"

You gasp when Aegon suddenly rips out of your grasp, bolting towards the blood wyrm. Thankfully, your wards were on high alert and manage to snag the boy before he could.

Twas Erryk that caught his arm. He clicks his tongue, "do not be naughty, young prince. You know the rules.

Aegon squeals in protest. If you didn't know any better, you'd believe he was being hurt, but you knew better. He whines, "muña!!!! Mazverdagon zirȳla dīnagon nyke ilagon!" (Maternal) aunt! Make him put me down!

Erryk raises a brow at the boy when he thrashes against him, pulling the knight's arm with all his might to no avail, "quiet. She will not save you."

"AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"

Caraxes grumbles at the noise.

Arryk raises a hand, "I'll save you, my prince!"

Aegon halts, turning to his savior.

Erryk watches his brother approach and releases him once the boy is swooped up. Aegon screams in glee when he is hung in the air upside down and thrown over Arryk's shoulder.

You chuckle at the sight, watching your nephew's legs fail behind Arryk's back. Aegon giggles, lifting his head.

Arryk grunts, "right, out of the pit then."

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Aegon protests through laughter.

Erryk winces, turning to Caraxes warily, "hush."

"No?" Arryk looks at the boy, "but I thought I was saving you?"

Aegon laughs and points, "FROM HIM!"

Erryk gasps, "me?"

Aegon nods, "he's villain!"

You snort, "Aegon."

"Ah," Arryk raises a brow, "I see. What shall we do? Should the princess punish him?"

Aegon grins, nodding his head.

You give Arryk a look.

"AUNT!" Aegon points, "PUNISH HIM."

You roll your eyes but comply, "Erryk."

Erryk turns to you, "yes, my princess."

"I punish you to live as a cat while we are here in the pits."

"Meow."

Aegon laughs brightly, suddenly wrangling out of Arryk's arms. Arryk puts him down and Aegon immediately runs to your skirts, "do him next."

Arryk gasps at the chubby finger pointed at him, "your grace! You betray me?!"

Erryk crosses his arms, "meow, meow."

Arryk growls with his hands curled into pretend claws, slowly stomping over, "I shall have vengeance."

Aegon screams and runs around you, hiding behind your skirt, "PUNISH HIM. QUICKLY!"

You huff and turn to Arryk, "ser Arryk."

"Hmm?" Arryk halts and clears his throat. He straightens his back, "yes, my lady?"

"I punish you to live as a dog while we are here in the pits."

"Wo-woof," Arryk sighs sadly.

"Meow, meow, ri-aw."

"Arf!"

Aegon emerges behind you, pointing a finger, "HEHEHE, you've been pu-"

"Aegon, I punish you to live as a bird while we're in the pits."

The boy bends his arms into wings, "tweet, tweet,"

Erryk points, "MEOW," then licks his lips while rubbing his belly, "YUM MEOW!"

Aegon, realizing his doom, runs behind you, "TWEEEEET!!!!!!!!!!!"

The two run around and Arryk joins them, barking along as they did. When Sunfyre was brought out, Aegon immediately breaks character, "Sunfy- I mean..." he turns to you, cupping the side of his mouth, "can my punishment be over? Can I be a boy again?"

You chuckle and nod, "all your punishments are over."

"YIPEE!" Aegon jumps and runs off to his dragon.

That is, until Arryk snatches his arm again, "my prince, no running in the pit."

Aegon merely nods this time, "okay!"

Both of your wards are focused on the boy once the small, golden beast is upon him. The keepers try to keep the dragon calm, but he is equally excited to Aegon as Aegon is to see him.

Aegon fearlessly strokes his companion, gasping in awe of his golden scales, and Sunfyre makes a sound akin to a purr as he nuzzles into his hand.

"Naejot kisikagon zirȳla, ñuha dārilaros?" one of the keepers ask. Would you like to feed him, my prince?

Aegon nods eagerly.

The Cargylls allow the boy to act under the guidance of the keepers, remaining on high alert. You, on the other hand, find yourself drawn towards the other dragon in the pit. You frown at Caraxes, who was already looking, "qubirī run." Poor thing.

Caraxes huffs as you slowly approach him with a raised hand. You pet him gently, unsure if he was allowing you to do so, or if he was too sick to do anything about it.

He makes a noise that sounds rather painful. You frown deeper, "mirre iksis sȳrī. Daemon ēza geptot naejot dohaeragon ao." All is well. Daemon has left to help you.

He perks at the mention of the name. He lifts his head slightly, looking around the room for the said man.

Your heart hurts and you are immediately brought to tears, "oh you poor thing," you clench your chest, hating that he can't understand what's going on, "Daemon iksis daor kesīr." Daemon is not here.

Caraxes makes a sound, earning the attention of the others in the room.

The twins see where you stand and immediately become agitated. They call your name slowly.

Caraxes sees them and grunts in displeasure.

"Shhh," you shake your head, "lykirī." Calmly.

The dragon does not listen and grits his teeth.

The keepers have to intervene and Aegon's time with Sunfyre is unfortunately cut short because of Caraxes's restlesness.

When you return Aegon to his mother and he insists upon lemon cakes. You all have some cakes and tea as you and the queen spend the rest of the day embroidering.

By the time you're back in your chambers that night, you dismiss your wards and get ready for bed. Your servant girls help you dress and after dismissing them, you raise your brow at the sight of the Cargylls, still ouside your door.

You towards them, hands on your hips, "I've not met anyone as eager for work as you two."

Erryk merely ignores you, standing back into attention. Arryk offers you a nod, "we merely do our duty, your grace."

"I'm going to bed," you raise an arm.

Arryk stands attention, closing the door as they both say in unison, "good night."

You huff, grabbing the knob. They ignore you. You roll your eyes, "come inside."

They ignore you still.

"I have dismissed you. You are not my wards in this hour," you walk to your vanity and prepare your quill and parchment. You turn to the open door, "shall I write to Daemon?"

This grabs their attention. Both of them turn to you and soon, the door is closed and both of them are by your side.

You turn to your paper, "I think I should write to Gwayne first, berate him for ignoring my letters."

"I doubt he ignores you. He's likely preoccupied, as I hear there has been an issue of locust in the Reach," Erryk offers as he paces around the room.

"He is preoccupied," you mutter, "Lord Tarly tried to talk his daughter up to me."

"Mmm," Arryk clutches his hands where he stands beside you, "Tarly. It would be a noble match."

You scoff, "I doubt my father would want him to marry within the Reach. Perhaps he'll offer him a Dornish bride so he could sink his fingers into the south."

Neither of them respond.

You begin to air out your grievances to your twin, your grievances with his late responses... your grievances with your husband who was now in Essos.

As you do, Arryk recalls your interaction with Rhaenyra, and by extension, Harwin's interaction with them. "It seems the princess has a ward."

Erryk turns to his brother at the mention. You merely hum.

"Ser Harwin asked how we get along, especially since there's three of us."

"And what did you say?" you mutter, focus still on your paper.

"I said we were blessed to ward over such a kind spirit."

"You mean such a sickly spirit."

"A calm one," Arryk corrects, sauntering to the back of your seat, "the princess is apparently fond of instigating quarrels."

You look up at him, taking his reflection, "she is fire and blood. She instigates quarrels no more than a baby demands to be fed. She does simply what is her nature."

"Ser Harwin for advice on how to handle the young princess," Erryk adds, walking over to you.

You watch him come beside your vanity, leaning on the surface. "Mmm, pray tell, what advice did you give?"

"Patience," Erryk blurts, "I told him patience is the only solution to his problem."

You chuckle softly, turning to Arryk behind you. You gather your hair over your shoulder, combing through the dark locks, "and you?"

Arryk looks down at you, belly rolling at the warmth your features under candlelight. He sighs slowly, clenching a fist to steel himself, "I told him to submit."

Your brow quirks.

"Submit to her will... her wants," one of his hands reach for you, "her desires."

Erryk watches as his twin caresses your cheek. He licks his lips when Arryk traces yours with his thumb. Unwilling to be merely an onlooker, Erryk comes to your side, taking your hand to kiss your knuckles.

This steals your attention. You turn to the other Cargyll, instantly finding your mouth trapped against his. Erryk kisses you gently, as if he feared placing any more pressure would break you.

Arryk breathes heavily and slowly drops to his knees. His hands brush over your lap, slowly bunching your skirt up. He grabs the base of the chair and drags you into him. Erryk's kisses shift as your chair does;his lips trail to your jaw and neck.

Your attention is stolen again when you feel hands on your bare legs. Arryk had hiked your dress up and was now parting your thighs to make room for himself between them.

"Wait," you mewl, reaching out to him, "I don't think I can take you both toni-"

"You do not have to," Erryk immediately mutters, "you needn't take either of us," his hands slowly brush across your chest. He squeezes one of your breasts, "let us take care of you,a make you feel good."

"Aye," Arryk blurts in agreement, "let us calm you."

"But what about y-"

Arryk makes your words falter by taking your shins and placing them on his shoulder. His steel is cool against your skin which burns hotter by the second. He kisses your knee while Erryk pushes your hair behind you, attacking your neck with his wet lips. "Do we not remind you enough to stop worrying about our pleasure?"

You bite your lip, holding back the whimper that threatens to spill as Arryk kisses up your inner thigh. You sigh, "I thought you said you submit to me?"

Arryk looks up as you, pressing your thighs against his cheeks. His eyes glimmer with longing, with adoration. Erryk shifts behind your shoulder to easier kiss you there as he pulls your sleeve down.

"Is this not submitting?" Arryk mutters.

You reach for his cheeks and stroke his beard, "I'm tried."

"Just one," he whispers, fingers eager to pull your bloomers down, "I will not tease you... not unless you wish it."

You whimper at the idea and shake your head.

Arryk heaves in an attempt to keep his breathing level. You still hadn't given your explicit permission, so he does nothing but watch as his brother smothers your shoulder with his lips. He mimics and kisses your thighs, "please... just on my tongue."

"Fuck," whispers Erryk upon hearing it.

You sigh and clench your jaw, finally nodding. You pull Arryk's head into your waiting core.

He wastes little time between removing your inner garments and pressing his mouth against your soft womanhood. Though eager he was to lap you up and eat you out, Arryk is gentle with his tongue. He is gentle with how he moves his lips and how he nuzzles his nose into you.

Erryk keeps you in place, body pressed against you, assuring your comfort, even if it meant the lack of his own. He massages your breasts intermittently and soon decides to pepper as much attention on the other side of your neck as he did the opposite. He breathes hotly against you, "smell so good."

Arryk hums, "taste even better."

You whimper when both brothers nip at you; they had a knack of doing things at the same time, even if unintentional. Your back arches and you slowly begin to swivel in your spot as the pleasure in your body intensifies.

The scratch of Arryk's beard on your tender flesh makes you groan. Soon, the wet lapping is loud enough to match the noises you were emitting.

Your peak is surprisingly strong and makes you lurch forward into Arryk's head. He steadies you though, as does his twin. Your legs nearly cramp as your body tenses with the hot and heavy sensation that bursts across your form. Both brothers give you one last kiss before carrying you into bed and tucking you in.

"That is your fortune."

He clenches his fist and teeth.

"Sadness bled from love. Misplaced yearning. Treachery strung from treachery. Nightmare become flesh."

His breath is low and shaky. He tells himself she's a quack but then again she knew nothing of him when he entered; now it seems she knew everything. "Fortune or reality?"

The soothsayer sat across him on the carpet shrugs, her heavily painted face twists in indifference, "two sides of the same coin."

"Can I change it?" Daemon snaps, liking no part of what he'd heard. This witch spoke only painful confirmations of things he'd tried so hard to deny.

She stares at him, scrutinizing his clothes. She was no fool, she knew he was noble, even with his tatty attire. She tilts her head, "for a price."

Daemon chuckles dryly, "of course," he shakes his head, reaching for his pocket, "how much more will you swindle out-"

"You must send word to your wife today or else she will never respond to you again."

The prince freezes.

The woman knowingly hums, "the same constellation that shone during her birth will soon shine. Her half will celebrate but she will not."

Her half? His jaw clenches. Gwayne? "Why won't she celebrate?"

"Death," she mutters simply, "everyone shall mourn during her day."

Daemon tenses, "death? Whose?"

She shrugs.

He grabs a pouch of coins and places it between them.

She looks at the coin but shrugs yet again, "I tell you only of what I see. A town of old shall rejoice for its heir will retrieve a bride. Babes will be promised. Her own lonely tears will drown the princess."

Daemon's face twitches.

The woman is unbothered by his deep bother. He lies on her side and waves him off, "go write to her and leave me now, prince. I tire."

"What should I write?"

She gives him a face, "it's nary my business what a married man and woman write about."

"B-"

"Waste more daylight by all means," she raises a hand, "may the gods grant you a bird that knows the flight back to King's Landing."

Daemon's huffs then exits the tent. Just as he remembers he left his pouch of coin, he turns and finds the tent is gone.

"What in the name of the god—"

"My lord!" a frantic voice calls. Daemon finds the captain of his ship, running towards him. He grabs his arms, "where have you been?! We've spent all day looking for you!"

The prince pushes him away, "do not exaggerate. I was merely gone for-" He turns back when he hears a bell tolling, brows furrowing at the sight of the setting sun behind the tower.

"I had to pay my guide to Norvos extra to wait and stay for us," says the captain.

Daemon looks out to the marketplace before him. Mere moments ago, it was bustling, lively, and stocked to the brim. Now, seemingly not a soul was present nor were there any goods at all for sale. He turns back to the man, mouth ajar, "I swear I had only left a few minutes. A woman had spoken to me about my wife... I had to listen."

The captain mutters something in his native speech. He shakes his head, "you be wary of witches," he spits to his side, "we might not reach Norvos at all if you listen to all the harks you hear." He shakes his head, "come now. We must aw-"

"No. I must write to King's Landing at once."

The man tenses and huffs, "and did the witch tell you do to so?"

"My heart does," Daemon says, walking off.

His eye twitches. Captain follows after him, "we waste sunlight... and coin! You can send her word the next stop ov-"

"It is my time and money you rely on," he shoots him a look, "I will spend it as I see fit."

And so it was.

Daemon sits upon a table just outside a tavern with a cup of wine, gazing back and forth between the captain and the guide, who were arguing in front of a horse stable. The scene is reminiscent of the argument you had when he left you in the pit to go to the Stepstones. The memory tries to choke him.

Beside the stable was a two-floored house and on the top window, he could see a mother watching her daughter play an instrument akin to a lute as she breastfed her babe. They had hair as dark as yours, which was why couldn't help imagine she was you for a moment... how happy he'd be to come home to something like this.

He turns to his paper and wonders if you ever drank wine when you wrote to him.

The bell tolls.

A septa lights some of the candles that went out with the wind.

You and Alicent had been knelt down in prayer in the temple. More accurately, she had been praying and you had been silently crying; your sister merely pretended not to notice.

The loud ring of the bells were what pulled you out of your melancholic trance. You sniffle and wipe your face, gathering yourself as much as you could. You push yourself up and turn to your sister, helping her up as she struggles slightly to get to her feet. She rubs her belly, the bump now visible.

"Perhaps we ought to stay standing next time, my dear," you say.

The queen disagrees, "I'm fine."

You freeze when she brushes your wet cheeks. You stare at her as he frowns.

"Are you?"

You slowly push her hand away, shaking your head, "I do not know. Does the news of the crown princess being with child not inspire you to weep?"

Alicent does not respond. In truth, she does not know how she feels about Rhaenyra carrying. She is rather numb, but she does not think she should admit it. This is why she changes the subject, "what of Daemon?"

You chuckle dryly, scratching your eyes, "what of him?"

"Has he still not written to you?"

You shake your head, lowering your gaze, "I would probably have taken this news better if he had," you chuckle bitterly, "I thought it would be different this time," you look back at her, "but here I am, wanting to return to Oldtown more than ever."

"Take heart," Alicent grabs your arm, "he said he would write you, didn't he?"

Your eyes water, "now that I think it, he never expressed the exact sentiment."

"Perhaps there are no birds to send correspondence."

"Alicent," you mumble, "you need not defend him. It only hurts us both." You gaze up at the ceiling, "I admit..." you laugh dryly, "I was not expecting any word from him."

That was a lie.

You were hopeful for letters, nay, you prayed for them... but then, you realized that change does not come easy and saved your breath.

But there was truth, and the truth of it all resided with Otto. It surprised him how sentimental Daemon could be, and how consistently so.

Even now, as sits upon his office chair, reading the most recent one, his throat tightens and his stomach sours at his sentiment.

𝔐𝔶 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔴𝔦𝔣𝔢, 𝔅𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰, ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔨𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔠𝔥 𝔬𝔣 𝔓𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔬𝔰, 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔑𝔬𝔯𝔳𝔬𝔰, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔡𝔞𝔪𝔫𝔢𝔡 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔟 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔴𝔢𝔡𝔤𝔢𝔡 𝔲𝔰 𝔞𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱. ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔫𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱, 𝔞𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔬 𝔲𝔫𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔨𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢, ℑ 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔬𝔨 𝔦𝔱 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔞 𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔡. ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔠𝔲𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔟𝔰, 𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔵𝔦𝔯𝔰, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔶, 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔡𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔩 𝔞𝔰 𝔣𝔞𝔯 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔞𝔰 𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢. 𝔐𝔶 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢. 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔪𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔰𝔦𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔲𝔰 𝔣𝔞𝔯, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔴𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔦𝔱 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔦𝔯 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔬… 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩, 𝔦𝔱 𝔪𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔟𝔢 𝔰𝔞𝔦𝔡 ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔭𝔱 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔲𝔱𝔢𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔟𝔢𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔪𝔶 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔞 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥 𝔥𝔞𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔰 𝔪𝔢. 𝔖𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔬𝔦𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔪𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔟𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔫𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔡𝔞𝔶 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔰, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℑ 𝔯𝔦𝔭 𝔞𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔯 𝔣𝔬𝔯 ℑ 𝔡𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔶 𝔦𝔰. ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔦𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔬 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔶 𝔟𝔢 𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔫𝔬 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 ℑ 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔖𝔱𝔢𝔭𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰. ℑ 𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔤𝔱𝔥 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔪𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔫. ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔭𝔦𝔠𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔣𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔳𝔢. 𝔏𝔦𝔨𝔢𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔢, 𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞t 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔠𝔥 ℑ'𝔳𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔠𝔞𝔫 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔟𝔢 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤. ℑ𝔫 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤, ℑ 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔴𝔢𝔩𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔢. 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔲𝔢𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔥𝔲𝔰𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔡.

Otto nearly gags. He crumples the paper and stands from his seat. He walks toward his fireplace and chucks it in, as he did with the previous ones.

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @hopeaha , @curiously-lazy , @ harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers , @miyriu , @hobipabo

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15 , PART 16 , PART 17 , PART 18 , PART 19 , PART 20 , PART 21 , PART 22 , PART 23 , PART 24 , PART 25 , PART 26 (You're here), PART 27

In the throne room.

Gaius: (enters and bows) Sire.

Uther: (At a table, offers him to sit next to him) It have come to my attention your ward is now quite popular above the people.

Gaius: I'm guessing you're referring to The Unicorn Catcher song, Sire?

Uther: (nods and sighs) Did you bring some of your concoction? (rubs his temples)

Gaius: (pulls out a little bottle from his pocket and starts mixing it with the drink Uther has already there) Sire, you don't really believe Merlin crossed pats with a unicorn, right? Because I can assure you-

Uther: Whether it's true or not is not really the problem.

Gaius: ... What?

Uther: If it's a lie, then that boy did a marvelous job to create himself a reputation portraying as a saint. If it's true, then he's been tempting my son with his virginity! I don't know which option is worst to be honest! This seductive demon-! (his eye tics)

Gaius: Drink. (gives him his drink) Just to get this straight, you aren't worry about the unicorn at all then, Sire?

Uther: (drinks it all in one go) Why would I worry about a horse with a horn wandering in the woods when the actual danger is here between the walls of this castle in the body of a peasant boy?! (stands up abruptly and looks at his vase frustrated) This thing isn't strong enough! (throws it away and Gaius flinches when it breaks) I know his kind, he gained my son's favor so when he becomes King he will turn him into his puppet king, or worst, he wants my son to make him regent so he'll have all the power! This boy is going to steal my kingdom!

Gaius: Sire, I promise you, Merlin is not that kind of person.

Uther: Really? Explain to me then why he dared to humiliate my son infront of his Knights? Tell me how that wasn't him showing off how much influence he has over the Prince of Camelot!

Gaius: (sighs, thinking) Of course he learned about that too. (says) Merlin is impertinent, I won't deny that, but he's not ambicious. In fact, if Merlin indeed encountered unicorn, that in itself would be prove of that. These magical creatures don't only feel attracted to the pureness in body, but the pureness in heart too. If Merlin had any malice in his heart it wouldn't have aproached him at all.

Uther: Oh, please! Why else would that boy humiliate himself to accept the affections of a man if not for his lust for power?

Gaius: Didn't it occur to your Majesty that for Merlin that's not an humiliation at all.

Uther: (frowns, confused) What do you mean?

Gaius: Well, Merlin has never showed any interest in girls, Sire. And, his status as prince aside, Arthur is a very handsome and attractive man. He also posseses very good qualities as a person. He's compassionate, brave, just, a very chivalrous man-

Uther: Are you trying to tell me that your ward is actually in love with my son?

Gaius: With all due respect, Sire, is pretty obvious that Arthur's feelings are not one sided. But you've been so absorbed in only thinking the worst of Merlin since he came here that you haven't realise that! I know my ward. He can be too dense and insolent for his own good, yes, but he's not a greedy person, much less a villain whose porpuse is to conquer an entire kingdom. He wouldn't even think of it. Merlin's heart is incapable of any evil.

Guard 1: (enters and bows) Your Majesty, Sir Silfred is here. He says he has important news for you.

Uther: Let him in.

Silfred: (enters and bows) Sire.

Uther: I'm hoping there's been a progress in your investigation.

Silfred: We still couldn't find any traces of Lady Sophia and Lord Aulfric, Sire. Not of them specifically at least. But we did find some dry blood stains deep in the woods.

Uther: They could be of anybody.

Silfred: That's what we thought. But then we found this nearby. (pulls out a purple neckerchief) It has stains of blood too. (gives it to Uther) Does it look familiar to you, Sire?

Gaius: (pales)

Uther: (analysing the fabric, icy calmed) It does... Thank you, Sir Silfred. You're dismissed.

Silfred: (bows and leaves)

Uther: (turns to Gaius) Your boy can be all chaste, Gaius, but he's definitely not pure hearted. He's evil in his very soul! And this is the prove! (throws the neckerchief at Gaius, who catches it in reflex) I knew something was off when Aulfric and Sophia dissapeared so suddenly and now I know why! He murdered them! He knew Sophia would be an obstacle for his plans so he got rid of her!

Gaius: (composes enough and stands up, firmly) I think you're running to conclusions, Sire.

Uther: Don't protect him, Gaius! Or are you going to deny this is his?

Gaius: It looks similar to the ones Merlin uses, yes, but Merlin is not the only person in Camelot that wears neckerchiefs.

Uther: True, but what about a purple one? Only royalty can afford purple fabric and there are only two royals in Camelot. And neither Arthur nor I wear this type of clothing. But we do know who likes to give expensive gifts to a certain servant.

Gaius: Even if it was Merlin's, we can't really be sure the blood is from Sophia and her father. You said it yourself, sire, it could be from anybody.

Uther: You dare to contradict me!

Gaius: All I'm saying is that in a court that wouldn't be enough prove to condem a person.

Uther: (yells) I am the King and therefore the judge and I say this is prove enough!

Gaius: (yells back) And would it be prove enough for Arthur?

Uther: ...

Gaius: (composes himself) I just fear, Sire, that if you condem Merlin based only on this evidence, Arthur won't accept it.

Uther: (sighs) I'm not naive enough to believe that Arthur doesn't know about this.

Gaius: (a bit nervous) What... what do you mean, Sire?

Uther: Sir Silfred is the best at finding traces and yet he could only find this piece of clothing and some blood stains. Even the smartest and strongest men can't hide a body that well in such short amount of time, let alone a skinny peasant boy. There's only one posible explanation.

Gaius: That he didn't do it?

Uther: That he had help! And not from other than my son, nonetheless! If Arthur's already, not only favoring, but covering him, we're doomed! that boy could even murder me and Arthur would let him!

Gaius: (thinking, worried) He's not stupid. It's incredible that he discovered what happened with so little clues, but his level of paranoia is worrying. He's right, but he's SO wrong at the same time. (says in a soothing voice) Merlin is no murderer, Sire. But even if he was, Arthur would never allow something like that, no matter how much he loves Merlin. You're not only his king, you're his father.

Uther: (grunts)

Gaius: But if you are so worried about my ward, Sire, why don't you talk to him?

Uther: (in disbelief) Talk?

Gaius: If you could take the opportunity to properly talk to him, maybe you'd realize he is not the person you believe him to be, Sire. Now you have this bad image of Merlin, but you haven't actually bother to know him.

Uther: Of course I haven't bother. He's a servant.

Gaius: But you fear the influence of said servant, Sire.

Uther: ...

Gaius: It's just a suggestion, Sire.

Uther: (sighs) Fine. (calls out) Guards!

Guards: (enter)

Uther: Bring the Prince's manservant here inmediatly.

Guards: Yes, Sire. (bow and leave)

Gaius: You could have sent me for him.

Uther: So you warn him in advance? No, I want to see his genuine reaction when a question him about this. (takes the neckerchief from Gaius' hands)

Gaius: Wait...you're going to interrogate him, Sire? 😨. That's not what I meant with "talking"!

Uther: I'm giving him a chance to defend himself, so be grateful.

Gaius: Of course I am, Sire. (thinking) Gods help me! Merlin please deny that neckerchief is yours!

Short time skip.

Merlin: (enters, confused but chill) Did you call for me, Sire?

Uther: You're talking to your King.

Merlin: I know.

Uther: Then why aren't you bowing?

Merlin: Oh, sorry. (bows quickly) Did you call for me, Sire?

Gaius: (facepalms internally)

Uther: I did call you. I have a very important matter to discuss with you.

Merlin: (more confused) Me?

Uther: (turns to Gaius) You are dismissed.

Gaius: (pleades) Sire-

Uther: Do as I say.

Gaius: (sighs) Yes, Sire. (bows and leaves)

Merlin: (starts worrying) What's... going on?

Uther: (about to pull out the neckerchief to start the interrogation) You-

Arthur: (enters and smiles politely) Sorry I'm late. What's the matter at hand?

Uther: I didn't call for you.

Arthur: But you call for Merlin and anything that concerns my manservant concerns me.

Merlin: (hisses) Arthur!

Arthur: (ignores him, but walks a few steps forward to be infront of Merlin) So, what is it that you want to discuss with my manservant so urgently, father? (keeps talking and smiling politely, but somehow he also sounds threatening)

Uther: (thinking) This won't work if Arthur is here. The boy will be confident he'll come to his aid. (says) I was just wondering if you knew anything about this song that's beeen circulating around lately.

Merlin: (nervous and blushing) You mean the Unicorn Catcher song, Sire?

Arthur: You called my manservant here just because of a tavern song? You must know that story is nothing but the product of some minstrel's imagination.

Uther: I'm very aware of that, Arthur. But that song is tainting your reputation.

Merlin: (sighs in relief, though still confused) But the song hardly mentions Arthur.

Uther: It mentions him enough. Now it's a song and then, last I thing I know, everyone in Camelot is saying that The Prince only takes young virgin boys to bed.

Merlin: (blushes more furiously, feeling humiliated)

Arthur: (notices and swallows his anger for the hiding insult to Merlin in Uther's words)

Uther: (to Merlin, aproaching) So, if you had anything to do with that song...

Arthur: (puts himself between Merlin and his father) It was Sir Ewan and Sir Innprudence who spreaded the rumor, father. Merlin had nothing to do with that. I already got them arrested for talking nonsense while drunk and causing all this mess, so you don't have to worry.

Uther: I did hear they were arrested. (sighs) That's all I wanted to know. You're dismissed.

Arthur and Merlin: (bow and leave)

Uther: (thinking) I need to find I way to get that boy alone, but how?

Time skip. Merlin, Gaius and Lancelot in Gaius' Tower.

Merlin: He found what?! 😨

Gaius: Your neckerchief, Merlin. And with stains of blood. So it doesn't look good.

Merlin: But that's impossible! Lancelot burned all the clothes!

Lancelot: I thought I did. But it was dark, maybe it fell while I was carrying the pile. (very guilty) I'm so sorry Merlin, I should've been more careful.

Merlin: Don't be. You saved Arthur's life and we didn't have much time.

Gaius: Uther won't arrest you, I convinced him to give you a chance to defend yourself. So when he calls for you again you just have to deny that neckerchief is yours and show him you are not the villain he built in his head.

Merlin: I need to tell Arthur. (makes a move to leave)

Gaius: (stops him) No! Uther wants to interrogate you alone, if you tell him he will sneak in again.

Merlin: I'll tell him not to go.

Lancelot: And you think he'll listen?

Merlin: I don't know. But he was involved in this too and I won't lie to him more than I need to. (leaves)

Gaius: Wait, Merlin! There's something else I need to tell you. Merlin! (makes a move to go after him)

Lancelot: (stops him) Tell me and I'll give him the message. I'll get to him faster.

Meanwhile, in Morgana's chambers. Arthur and Morgana having some kind of tea party, while Gwen braids Morgana's hair.

Morgana: (laughing) You men are so inmature.

Arthur: I was not inmature. He hit me first, I just defended myself.

Mogana: And then you fighted over who was Merlin's best friend. Yeah, very mature.

Gwen: I thought I was Merlin's best friend (pouts)

Morgana: You are his best GIRL friend.

Gwen: (mocking) So that means you are not his best girl friend?

Morgana: (plays along) How dare you! I'll fight you! (makes silly fighting movements)

Arthur: (complains) Stop it! (but can't help but laugh)

Merlin: (enters sudenly)

Morgana: Merlin! Knock first! I could be changing my clothes.

Arthur: Now you know what I have to endure everyday (looks at Merlin expression and frowns, worried) Merlin, what is it? (stands up and goes to him) Did something happen?

Merlin: Arthur-

Guard 1: (interrupts) Sire, The King wants you to interrogate a sorcerer in the dungeons.

Morgana: (feels mad and sad for what's probably going to be another unfair execution, but doesn't say anything)

Arthur: (notices) Lets discuss this outside.

Merlin, Arthur and Guards: (Get out of Morgana's chambers)

Arthur: (closes the door behind him) Can't it wait?

Guard 2: I fear not. It's a very dangerous sorcerer, we had to put him in cold iron, so the King wants to execute him as soon as possible. But he also wants to get as much information he can from him. Apparently he was the leader of a group of renegate soreceres.

Arthur: I understand. (to Merlin) We'll talk later. (makes a move to leave)

Merlin: (makes a move to go with him)

Arthur: (stops him) Merlin, no. Stay. I have to do this alone. (thinking) I don't want you to see that, nor do I want to put you in danger.

Merlin: You can't stop me. (thinking) Like I'm going to let you alone with a dangerous sorcerer!

Arthur: (sighs) Merlin-

Lancelot: (arrives running) Merlin! (takes a breath) By the Gods, you run fast. (bows to Arthur) Sire, I'm sorry, but Gaius needs Merlin urgently.

Arthur: (releaved) It's alright, Lancelot. I have urgents matters to attend too. (follows the guards and leaves)

Merlin: (about to leave but Lancelot stops him) Let go of me! 😡 Arthur is about to interrogate a dangerous sorcerer I need to be there! Whatever urgency Gaius has can wait!

Lancelot: There's no dangerous sorcerer.

Merlin: (stops struggling) ...What?

Lancelot: There is no dangerous sorcerer and there is no urgency. That's what Gaius wanted to explain to you. Is part of the plan.

Merlin: The plan? What plan?

In the dungeons. Arthurs goes with the guards to a cell, but finds it empty.

Arthur: Where's the prisoner?

Guards: Here. (push Arthur inside quickly and close the cell)

Arthur: (stands up, furious) What do you think you are doing?! 😡

Guard 1: (very apologetically) Forgive us, Sire. It was King's orders.

Arthur: Why did my father order you to lock me up in the dungeons?! I'm not strange to this punishment, but normally I know WHY I'm being punished.

Guard 1: This is no punishment, Sire. Your Majesty just doesn't want you to interfere in... some matters.

Guard 2: It will be just for a couple of hours, Sire. You don't have to worry.

Arthur: Interfere? Why would I... (pales and shouts) Merlin!

Meanwhile in the throne room.

Uther: Has the prince been brought to the dungeons.

Guard 3: Yes, Sire.

Uther: Perfect. Now bring the boy.

...

Finally we get back to the request list!

Arthur has to protect Merlin from his dad ☑︎

An he will continue to do it for the next parts because this shit is far from over!

What do you think is going to happen?

What was the hiding insult in Uther's words the Arthur catched?

Also, credits to my best friend Rosangela, who helped me with some dialogues and situations, no only in this part, but several ones. Love you so much! ❤️

[sylusjinwoon]

This is such a random question but have you ever written a story where the reader goes with jinwoo to the international guild conference(I think thats what its called)

Im not asking you to write it, you’ve already written so much. Its just that you have so many works I struggle to find a specific one

Byeeeeeee! Have a good day/sweet dreams

hey sweetheart! and no, i don’t believe i wrote a story where the reader attends a conference with jinwoo. however, i can help you find a specific jinwoo story that i have personally written to suit your needs! so i have made a summary of every single jinwoo story i have written under the cut with their links ♡ !

1. { sparkle } - first jinwoo story i have ever written told in jinwoo’s POV where he realizes he’s in love with reader

2. { 3RR0R } - where the system shows jinwoo that his soulmate is not cha hae-in

3. { pillowtalk } - reader speaks to jinwoo about her love for him while he sleeps.

4. { season’s call } - reader is constantly under protection from jinwoo’s shadow soldiers.

5. { hold me like a grudge } - investigator!jinwoo protects the reader while hiding a secret from her.

6. { surround you } - jinwoo is away on a business trip, leaving reader alone as she muses on how much she misses him.

7. { like you do } - reader is a young woman living in the real world who gets the chance to live out her dreams of being with jinwoo in his world.

8. { butterfly kisses } - reader comforts jinwoo during a bad day.

9. { love letter of flowers } - florist! reader and s-rank hunter! jinwoo fall in love 💐

10. { slow dancing in the dark } - reader sees jinwoo dancing with hae-in and feels envious.

11. { boyfriend headcanons } - general fluff headcanons

12. { arise } - reader is resurrected as one of jinwoo’s shadow soldiers due to a tragic event.

13. { rose-colored boy } - jinwoo takes care of a sick and feverish reader.

14. { sands of time } - academy arc; reader can’t stand jinwoo and lowkey hates him… or does she?

15. { light in the darkness } - antares!jinwoo basks in the reader’s softness.

16. { tiptoe } - reader is kept hostage as potential leverage, but it fails when jinwoo brutally attacks her captors to teach them a lesson.

17. { snooze } - reader loves to humble jinwoo by calling him dorky nicknames.

18. { enough is enough } - reader and jinwoo get into an argument.

19. { motherland } - jinwoo comforts reader after her failures.

20. { love me for me } - reader can’t stand being second best to her sister, hae-in.

21. { follow you } - reader becomes anxious at work due to a persistent co worker who can’t leave her alone…

22. { house of gold } - jinwoo fumbles his proposal LMAO

23. { headfirst for halos } - first yandere jinwoo fic.

24. { penpal } - academy arc; jinwoo wishes to get closer to his beloved reader.

25. { proud to be yours } - jinwoo makes a huge announcement during a press conference.

26. { the dark knight } - reader is a capable hunter who can’t stand it when jinwoo purposely prevents her from attending raids.

27. { musings for yandere jinwoo } - more yandere stuff

28. { moonlight } - jinwoo becomes captivated by reader when she calls him a strangely unique nickname.

29. { anomaly } - reader gets isekai’d into the world of solo leveling.

30. { of gifts and curses } - jinwoo muses how his strength and power are for the sake of protecting his beloved…

31. { reader inserts } - reader gets emotionally scarred after reading a painful reader insert.

32. { too sweet } - jinwoo falls in love with a reader who is the embodiment of sunshine.

33. { peaches } - a love story between jinwoo and the reader whom he has always loved.

34. { the only exception } - yandere jinwoo who falls head over heels for reader at first sight, willing to do anything to keep her by his side.

35. { selfish } - jinwoo being a jealous bby 🥰

36. { belong to you } - 100% jinwoo spice / thirst post

37. { touch starved } - jinwoo tries to woo (lmao) the reader and win her heart ♡

38. { cry for me } - another thirst post based on an ask ♡

39. { lover is a day } - comfort fic for jinwoo

40. { heartbreak feels so good } - reader is embarrassed with having a one night stand with jinwoo and wishes to forget. unfortunately for her, jinwoo wants nothing more than to remember and finally claim reader as his.

41. { marked by you } - more thirst posts for jinwoo

42. { the prince and the pauper } - historical romance / fairytale au with prince jinwoo sung and a commoner reader

43. { darling } - a yandere story with a twist. yandere jinwoo and yandere hae-in are deeply in love with the reader and would kill each other just to have you all to themselves…

44. { company } - lmaoo reader keeps friendzoning jinwoo, and he hates it.

45. { autobiography } - reader is an author that wants to write jinwoo's biography; what more can i say? 🥰

46. { perfect } - 18+ only, another thirst post for jinwoo

47. { saturn } - will jinwoo learn to love the reader’s true self hidden beneath a cheerful façade?

48. { slow it down } - boy next door jinwoo! what more can i say 🤭🥰

49. { that green gentleman (things have changed) } - single dad! jinwoo x daycare worker! reader

50. { god is a woman } - 18+ thirst post / drabble

51. { the admirer } - jinwoo loves to annoy the reader to capture her attention

52. { not a want but a need } - 18+ thirst drabble

53. { marry me } - the title says it all, really 🤭

54. { your heart belongs to me } - another 18+ thirst post

55. { the haunted one } - academy arc story where reader can see jinwoo’s shadow soldiers and becomes terrified of him.

56. { me + you } - another cute academy arc story where reader is struggling with math and jinwoo tutors her

57. { of painful auras and cute boys } - university au; reader has a migraine and needs to be saved;;; but by who ;3c

[solifloris]

≡;-꒰ 𝐗𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒋𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐

╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | 18+ only

tags : long fic, porn with plot, prince!xavier x knight!reader, separate from the lightseeker era we know and more of a different royal au, slight angst, hurt/comfort, slowburn ish, mutual yearning, slight miscommunication (well it's xavier…), still has soft fluffy moments though, use of "my prince" "my liege" "your highness" from reader, kisses, first time, oral (f. receiving), heavy petting, vaginal sex, overall soft sex and very vanilla moments, slight use of pet names "angel" and "my queen" towards the end from xavier.

IMPORTANT - this is part 2 because apparently tumblr has a 1000-block limit that won't let me post the entire fic in one whole post...... so please see this link for part 1, or the full fic on AO3 !!

wc : 19.8k total / part 1 - 12.3k / part 2 - 7.5k

an : a tumblr continuation; this is still for @xavmc-week days 1 (knight x royalty), 2 (firsts), and 3 (moon/stars)! note that this is not really a standalone, and does work better with the context from part 1 <3

taglist to be reblogged : SIGN UP HERE

ko-fi jar / commissions

With a single word and a gentle touch, you turned a moment into forever.

Like many things between the two of you, it became routine.

One kiss, and then the second—it happened just the next night. Just as quiet, just as soft, just as gentle.

You hadn’t expected it, not really. You'd wished for it, sure, but you fully believed it to be a one-time-thing—

It wasn't.

Because that next night, he'd invited you in again. Another cup of tea, more idle chatter, something normal—

And then he walked you to the door.

Again.

He stood a moment long, and then you knew, and when his lips brushed yours in another sweet, sweet kiss, you could feel your heart soaring.

Again.

That night, there were still no words exchanged. Just a small, shy, mutual smile, and then the door closing softly behind you.

And after that, it became a rhythm. A routine. He would find you in quiet hallways with an unspoken glance; you would fall into step beside him without hesitation. Sometimes your hands brushed as you walked—accidental at first, then not so accidental. A ghost of a touch. A curl of fingers, before either of you would still remember to pull away.

And some nights, you'd wait by the door, unsure if you'll be invited in again But every time, the door still opened before you could knock.

Some nights, he would still be dressed in formal attire, a little disheveled, a little distracted, a little tired. Other nights, he was comfortable to be in less—a simple linen shirt, maybe even sleep clothes. His sleeves were always rolled to the forearm; gaze was always more relaxed.

Still, always handsome.

And you never really quite talked about the kisses. About the affection, the comfort, the—whatever this was.

They just happened. Folded into the end of each evening, like clockwork—like punctuation.

A kiss by the door. A hand brushing your wrist. A touch on the small of your back as you passed him a folded report.

It took 21 days to form a habit, but sometimes you'd think that this even took less—that was how natural it was. You could breathe, and you would breathe him in. Enough so for you to dream lighter, now. You'd to sleep with the tingle of his lips; wake up with the memory of it.

Naturally, of course, the court remained unaware. In whatever had pulled you close like this, you were still able to keep a straight face around the others. The guards still spoke of it as nothing, and if anyone noticed the way your gazes lingered longer than they should, then they didn't seem to dare touch on the matter in the first place.

It was enough, at least. For you. For him, hopefully.

And then night after night, as the castle settled into quiet and the corridors dimmed to a warm glow, you returned to him.

Always to him.

And you wished, deep in your heart, that it would always last forever.

&—

Of course it didn't.

A bond built in secret—how long, truly, could that last?

You kept your head down when you first heard it.

The palace walls were thin—decidedly so. You'd never cared for it, not before, but now it meant something. Words seeped through the cracks; like vines on a wall, winding, and winding, and—

Choking.

Two noblemen lingered in the corridor. Their voices were low, but not low enough. You could make out, still, what they were saying.

“A match with the House would secure the borderlands for a generation.”

“Well, I believe he’ll fall in line. He has no choice, if it's for the Kingdom.”

“But they say he’s taken to spending time with his knight, that woman. I'd heard she was his personal guard."

"Goodness! Then what would that look like, come delegation day?”

It stung.

You felt the bile build up in your chest, in your throat—

You could throw up.

You almost did.

And you turned, left—your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your limbs tense as you walked. You couldn't bear to hear any more.

It had been weeks.

One, or two—but more than enough for you to live in that pretty little illusion, and now it was time to stop it.

Xavier hadn't told you.

Just last night, you'd shared another soft little kiss—that one was longer than most, you almost stayed.

Almost.

Almost.

But he hadn't told you.

And how long had there been talks of this? How long had he been betrothed to a noble girl? How long had he known? Could he kiss you, still, despite all of this being said? Could he be with you, nightly, despite the arrangements being made for his hand?

When you entered your room, you went straight for your bed. Sat in it in silence, hung your head down in disdain.

Tears pricked at your eyes. Even in its absence, your armor weighed heavy. Right on your heart.

It was the weight of what you were.

You didn't go to him, that night. Not this, not the next, not the nights even after. And each evening that you'd steeled yourself not to knock on his door, a part of you ached like you'd gone too long holding your breath.

Because you'd never even spoken of what you were.

Never defined those soft, goodnight kisses, the brushing of fingers when no one looked, the stolen moments of laughter, of shared glances—things that warmed you, comforted you, made you feel… safe.

For you, it had been enough.

Just spending time with him like that, it had been enough.

Until it wasn't.

And still, you couldn't quite pretend that you hadn't seen it coming.

Xavier moved differently, now. His shoulders were tense in court, his eyes flicking towards you from across the room more often, as though checking to see if you'd still be there. You noticed it. It was hurting him as much as you, you could see it. You knew him well enough. Still, despite the secrets, you knew him well enough.

But this distance was necessary.

If 15 centimeters had shortened into 5, had dissolved into nothingness—

It had grown, since even longer.

15 centimeters to 20, to 30. To one foot, then two—a meter, then more.

The space between you had grown, even when physically, you were only just a few paces apart at all.

And it just had to be that way.

It had to be that way.

So why were you crying?

Why, then, where you turning down this corridor—were you heading to his chambers—

Why, then, was it so difficult to leave?

It was the fourth night, like this. Habitual movements. Heart thrumming with an ache that pulsed at your throat.

You were there before you could think; in front of the door, closed, that you were so familiar with.

Your hand lifted—

You didn't knock.

"This is stupid," you murmured, a pained whisper beneath your breath.

And then—

"…Is that what you think?"

Your heart stopped.

You didn't need to turn to see who had spoken, but—

You did, anyway.

Slowly, guiltily. You turned, let your eyes fall onto his figure, immediately falling into those blue, blue eyes…

Immediately finding that they weren't, now, as bright as you had known them to be.

"I… I wasn't…"

You tried to speak, but your words fell short. You'd forgotten how, almost. 21 days to form a habit, and it had been even less for it to break.

He stepped forward. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

"I didn't mean to…"

"But you’ve barely looked at me.”

Because I can't.

Taking a deep breath, you glanced away, let out a bitter exhale.

“Because… Because if I do, then I’ll forget what I’m supposed to be. A-and I can't do that."

A knight shouldn't…

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as his brow knit, as something flickered in his eyes like a candlelight caught in the wind.

You knew that look.

Pain.

“So, what are you supposed to be?” he muttered.

Like he didn't know, or— like he couldn't admit it.

You hung your head, then. Refused to answer.

Because what were we, then?

"They said something, didn't they."

His tone was softer this time when he tried again, but it was not a question, not this time.

It was a statement.

Yet, still you couldn't raise your head.

“You think I care what the court says? About what they expect of me?”

"That's not it, I just…"

You shut your eyes tightly.

Well, you had to speak, didn't you?

"I think," you whispered then, slowly, "that you were born with a crown on your head, and I… was born to guard it. And it makes all the difference, Your Highness. Because roles like that… really just don't overlap."

When you say things out loud, it feels a little more real.

Unfortunately for you, that was exactly the case with even this. And maybe, then, it was why things had to fall apart so quickly.

You'd never spoken what you had out loud.

Xavier stepped closer.

Tentative.

The smell of him, then—clean sheets, warm parchment, something grounding—it hit you like a memory.

“You’ve kissed me every night for a week,” he murmured. “You’ve sat beside me in silence, you’ve laughed at my terrible impressions of the court’s musicians, you’ve been more than just duty—more than any of it, long before either of us dared say it.”

You held your breath.

“And now you look at me like you’re afraid to hope.”

"…Because, Your Highness. I am."

In that moment, your voice broke.

“Because this—whatever we are, I— i-it won’t survive a noble’s daughter, with silk hems and land attached to her name, and… and peace."

You still couldn't look at him. You closed your eyes, again, tried not to think about throwing up, tried not to think about how tense you were.

“I'm just a knight, Your Highness, and I serve you. You’ll have to marry. You’ll be expected to bed someone else, kiss someone else, share everything with someone else and pretend like I was nothing but a childish indulgence—”

"Is that… Is that what you think I see you as?"

You shook your head, but you couldn't trust your words to be of any use.

Your throat closed. Your vision blurred; a stray tear fell away.

You could feel yourself trembling.

And then he reached for you, slowly. His hand brushed against your glove, not taking, but—offering.

Hoping.

Without another word, another beat, you felt him lift up your chin, felt him lean in—

He didn't kiss you, not quite. But he pressed your foreheads together, searched your gaze, pleaded you, if only through actions alone.

"I want to choose you," he said quietly. Barely a whisper, barely a breath.

And somehow, you knew that he did.

But wanting something did not always mean that you could.

Now, at least, you knew that.

"But you can't," you whispered.

And you pulled away, took a step back, and bowed.

"Goodnight, my prince."

&—

Another week.

The corridors of the castle always sounded different at night.

Quieter, yes. But emptier, too. Like something had been there, and left, and taken all the warmth with it.

By now, you'd been avoiding his hall entirely. Formed a new habit—walked the longer path to your quarters, kept your head bowed more respectfully during meetings, left before he could catch your eye.

It simply had to be this way.

And, sure— you missed him.

You missed him in ways you didn't have the language for, in ways you wished you could described if only losing a piece of your soul was easy to describe. Because it wasn't just the shared looks, wasn't just the touches, the kisses goodnight—

You missed his voice. His smile. When they weren't meant for anyone else; when he said your name when no one was listening. These things—all of them—that soon, you knew, would belong to someone else.

That he would belong to someone else.

That he would marry someone else, and— and what could a knight do?

What could you do?

You'd heard it now through whispers, then through the official talks. A name had been floated; a political match that made sense.

And you told yourself that it was always going to end like this. That your role in his life was temporary. Just a secret, soft, guarded secret he'd kept while you both waited for the inevitable… soft around the edges, to be kept and folded away without too much pain.

But it did hurt.

Gods, it hurt.

Everytime you laid to sleep, you pressed your fingers to your lips like an idiot, and wondered if he remembered the last kiss like you did.

If he regretted it.

If he thought that things had stepped too far.

And then one evening, you lingered longer in the armory under the guise of inventory.

The space was dim, your hands were idle. You sat in the corner—you had run the inventory, but that was over now. And in this quiet space, your thoughts were louder than they should have been.

Because fuck it all—it hurt, and you missed him.

You wondered—should you have fought for him?

Should you have dared, even?

So little you could do in your position; so much that you could dream.

You groaned, head in your hands as your knees drew to your chest, and you barely even noticed that the door had opened.

A quiet pad of footsteps.

You raised your head, half-expecting a squire or a steward, but—

It was him.

Xavier.

You swallowed thickly, eyes frozen—

Then, quietly:

"There you are. I've been looking all over for you."

You could see his shoulders slump in relief a little, as if the mere sight of you had calmed him, as if he'd waited—desperately—for another moment to share with you. While you could do nothing. You watched, stayed still when he moved to sit beside you, a few paces away, respecting the boundary that he knew you'd put up, letting his words hang in the air a little.

"You… stopped coming to say goodnight," he added after a while. Not looking at you, but looking straight ahead.

As if he could scare you with another glance.

"…I, um. Didn't want to be a burden."

"You aren't, though."

You swallowed. You could feel your heart thudding painfully against your ribs. "…Well, they… They said you were meeting her. Next week, right? The… the noblewoman. Your betrothed."

Out of the corner of your eye, his expression flickered.

"Mn, they've arranged a meeting. But she isn't my betrothed. None of this means that I've agreed to anything."

"But you will."

Silence.

You turned.

"You… will, won't you?"

And then your eyes met, again you held your breath, and he gave you a slow, strained smile.

No.

"Your Highness, please, I don't want you to—"

"Do you know?"

He whispered, but it was enough to cut you off.

Your mouth clamped shut.

"Do you know how many times I've looked at the throne room, full of all these people… and only wanted to find your face?"

Your breath caught.

"I never wanted to stop what we had," he mumbled. "I thought you just needed space, so I gave it to you, I didn't mean…"

"But that's not the point, Your Highness. You're to marry, I can't just—"

"I thought you regretted it."

You exhaled slowly. "…Never."

Never.

And this time he drew closer; reached for you, as if so desperate, now, not to have you leave his side again.

How could you ever have it in you to pull back?

"Please," he whispered, "I— I haven't been sleeping."

His voice felt raw; you heard it strain like the way he was trying to keep it together in front of you.

"You… You're my knight, and you've protected me all this time,but you don't have to protect me from heartbreak. Not like this. I don't want it like this. I need you to believe that I can choose it, even if it hurts, and that I'll…"

You closed your eyes. In that moment, listening, you resigned—allowed yourself a moment of selfishness, allowed yourself to lean in, bury your face into his chest.

You heard it, the way his breath hitched.

Slowly his arms wrapped around your figure, questioning, unsure, but so… hopeful.

"I never thought I could belong in your world," you murmured. Your voice was muffled by his clothing. "I still don't know if I do. You're meant to belong to someone else, and I—"

"I don't want someone else."

"…I don't want you to want someone else, either."

He leaned down to rest his chin on top of the crown of your head then, and then there was silence.

Neither of you moved, neither of you said another word.

Right now, you thought you could enjoy it—just another quiet moment for the two of you, another illusion that everything was fine.

&—

The castle had never been louder.

“Did you hear?” said one.

“He turned her down," said another.

“It's a royal scandal!” "What will the court think?!" "Does this mean something for our Kingdom?!"

Word spread fast, as usual.

You'd borne the brunt of it before, but now you were a spectator—curious, at that.

It was today; earlier. Xavier had journeyed to meet up with his betrothed, and you'd purposely kept away from him, but he'd returned with nothing but silence.

You hadn't seen him.

He hadn't sat through his duties, hadn't offered a word to anyone… Not the King, nor you, nor—anyone. Just ridden straight through the gates and disappeared into his chambers without even an escort.

And you had heard all of this in fragments. Snatches of gossip, pieces and bits, a part of the vine that crawled, and crawled, and crawled…

Even your captain had to look up from his reports to ask, "Did you know anything about this?"

You didn't.

You knew nothing.

You didn't know why he’d done it, or what it meant, but—but you had hope that you did. The kind of hope that had you freezing; foggy. Something lodged in your throat, something unspeakable and trembling, and—

You could tell yourself to leave it alone.

You could.

You could.

But you didn't.

And in all manners predictable, by nightfall, you'd found yourself standing right in front of his door again.

It had been so long.

Your fist hovered, uncertain, still—

He'd said no, to a future. A future set out for him, a future that would've made sense, a crown-sanctioned bride that should have been—

He said no to the wishes of his Kingdom.

It was a risk, one unimaginable, even for you.

And you needed to know why .

So you knocked, once.

The door opened almost instantly, as though he’d been waiting, and he looked…

Tired.

Rumpled.

He had no cloak, no gloves, and his shirt remained half-unbuttoned at the collar, like he hadn't even bothered changing since he'd gotten back hours ago. So when your eyes met, for a moment neither of you moved.

Then, quietly, he stepped aside.

“You heard,” he said.

You entered, keeping your gaze on the ground. “The whole castle's heard.”

"… Of course."

He exhaled. A small, tired laugh escaped his lips. And still you wouldn't look at him, but you grasped at his sleeve, and tugged.

"Why?" you whispered.

“Because I couldn’t lie anymore.”

You drew in a breath.

“I thought I could do it,” he muttered. You could hear a dry smile in the way that he spoke. “I thought I could be what they needed, marry who they wanted… But I sat across from her, and all I could think was—she isn’t you.”

He took a slow step towards you; broke that distance in an instant. 15 centimeters? No more.

And every word, every breath, they would still you in your own movements, render you frozen to the spot, but he—

This time, he wouldn't let you.

“I tried to forget. To be noble. To be dutiful.” Another step. “But I’ve been in love with you for so long, and now I know that I wouldn’t know how to stop. I don't know."

You looked up, this time. Slowly, as he drew you in. A hand at your waist, a touch you didn't refuse—a gaze you couldn't look away from.

And, god, you were weak.

"…I like it, when you name things," you whispered back finally. A line that was familiar; memories drawn to that balcony, late at night, but a line you would repeat for yourself to hear. "It makes them feel more real. It makes you feel more real. Not like… Like a star, up in the sky, far too high that I can't dream to reach."

Like, you... have always been too far from me. But, I...

It began with trembling lips.

His hands rose to cup your jaw, and yours fisted gently into the fabric of his shirt—clinging, like you didn’t trust the moment to stay if you let go.

"It is real," Xavier breathed. "It's very, very real. This moment, and us."

And he kissed you.

Your lips met with the soft, inevitable gravity of two people who had always been drifting toward each other; like he had waited for years; like you had only a single remaining language in your heart that existed in the shape of him.

So when his hands began to roam—slow, careful, unhurried—you didn't stop him. You basked in it. The finality of it. It sent a heat heat skimming beneath your skin, and immediately your body responded before you could think, pressing into him as he guided you backwards.

And your name.

God, your name.

You'd never heard it sound so sweet, so loving, not like the way he whispered it between your lips. Every kiss, every movement—your name fell still, like a sigh; a quiet chant, and it made you weak.

The backs of your legs hit his bed, and you let yourself fall.

Into him, and the mattress—into everything and anything that this moment was building up to.

And he kissed you, and kissed you, and kissed you—barely spent a second away from you, even as he unfastened your tunic with slow fingers, each button undone like an unspoken confession.

Only when it was off did he pause, sitting back.

You watched his eyes. Saw the awe in them.

Devotion.

Reverence.

"So beautiful," he whispered.

And as you flushed at his response to you, he kissed your jaw, your shoulder, the hollow of your collarbone. Soft, fluttering kisses, down your body, almost enough to have you weeping from the way he did it—like every part of you was worth loving. You'd barely even choked back a sob when he pulled away to undress. Clearly every bit as eager as wanting as you.

And so you froze a moment, drank him in—every golden line of his chest, the way candlelight haloed over the silvery strands of his hair.

You watched, still, as he came down over you. He placed both forearms on either side of your head, and a small smile played at your lips;

He said it again.

"You're so beautiful," he sighed. "Like… an angel."

You didn't know if you wanted to hit him or burrow in embarrassment, but even as your face reddened, that lovesick look on his face rendered you silent.

And this time, he took his time.

He trailed your jaw, your neck, your collarbone—feeling, this time, with the tips of his fingers, as if carefully wanting to leave on you a mark of his own touch.

He moved lower.

His gaze followed where his hands went, dipping down your sides, sliding over to brush beneath your breast. When he stroked over to your belly, you held you breath; when he held your hip and nudged your waistband down, you arched in permission.

And despite how the situation was—despite the way he'd leave you completely bare, despite the inevitable, then that this was leading to—you found that his touches were devoid of any ulterior motive.

His eyes, when he raised them back to yours, were so loving. As if, he wanted to say—even this, now, feels like coming home.

And maybe it was.

Maybe it was, in the way he seeked to explore every little inch of you. The way he traced your skin, meant to memorize every curve. The way every touch, now, built warmth right into you, slow, and steady, and tender, until he knew that you ached for him—possibly, then, in ways you'd never dared to explore before this.

So when he kissed you next, it was gentle.

Intentional, but gentle.

You could feel years of unspoken yearning behind the way his mouth moved against yours, the way he cupped your cheek and dipped the tip of his tongue into your parted lips.

Immediately, naturally—your legs parted, raising to cradle his hips.

Against your bare sex you could feel the friction of his bulge, and you tugged at his hair.

Off, you seemed to plead.

He only looked at you with a smile.

There was a sparkle in his eyes—love, still, and this time a little hint of teasing.

He nuzzled your cheek. "Do you need something?" he murmured.

He'd play the oblivious, innocent rabbit, even now.

"…Xavier," you whispered.

You closed your eyes, brought your lips close to his ear.

"Xavier."

And you had never said his name before. Not without titles, or formal address—

Never just his name.

You heard his breath hitch; felt his grip tighten around your arm.

"You…" He sounded like he was struggling to breathe. You could have sworn you felt him grow, against you.

And perhaps you felt daring, perhaps this was that unabashed, bolder side of you again—

You raised your hips and ground yourself against him, and you nearly trembled at the sound of his moan.

"Xavier," you repeated again, barely even a breath. "Please…"

There was a moment of parting, a moment where he stared, still, before he chuckled and complied. Slowly, articles of clothing bared him to you in turn, and you keened at the way he pressed himself against you once more. Firmer, this time. More sure.

"My angel…" he whispered, running a hand down your cheek before he kissed the place that he'd touched. "You're still here."

"I'll always be here. I don't want… to leave you ever again, Xavier, I…"

"Shhh. You're okay. I have you."

You gasped then, as you felt it.

The head of his cock rubbed deliciously at your entrance—not quite entering, but teasing, so, so, teasing.

Another roll of his hips drew a whimper from you this time, and his eyes glinted with mischief.

"You're enjoying this…" you whined.

He smiled. "Immensely."

And then he raised your hips, slot himself right at your hole, wrapped your legs at his waist—

"Breathe, angel."

The stretch was exquisite.

You felt yourself arching into him, trembling as he took you whole. Inch by inch he slid inside you, rubbing your hips in circles, bringing a hand up to his lips for him to kiss.

You were startled, almost. You could feel every vein, every ridge—every perfection as he filled you, and, all be damned—you wanted him. So, so, incredibly bad.

His hand moved, then, to stroke your side, a gentle, soothing motion as you pulsed and wrapped around him. He leaned in to kiss your temple, your cheek, your lips—as though trying to anchor you there with him.

"Are you okay?" he murmured against your skin. "Still with me?"

You could only nod, your voice too thick with emotion to answer.

His forehead rested against you, fingers threading with yours beside your head.

“You’re shaking,” he nuzzled you.

"I…"

Am I?

You marveled. You hadn't noticed, but you supposed that you were.

"I-I'm just—" You swallowed. “I'm really happy. I didn’t think I’d ever get this… you… us…"

He chuckled, kissed your cheek. "But it feels good, right?"

"Mhm. Real good."

"Can I move?"

You paused, then wrapped your arms around his neck— "Please."

And he did.

He fell against you, braced slightly on his arms, yet when his weight settled—it was grounding.

It was real.

So real, even if you felt you could float, because you felt him.

In, and out. In, and out.

He moved slowly, giving you time, watching your face with every shift of his hips. Every glide sent shivers through you. Every grind of his hips sent a heat sparking your skin.

"Xavier…" you whispered again; moaned. "Oh, god… y-you're so good…"

"Mh? Do you like it?"

He kissed you again, and you breathed him in.

And then you didn't realize you were crying, not until he pulled his lips away, brushed a thumb across your cheek.

"Am I hurting you? Is it too much?" He stilled, a moment, cupped your cheeks to get you to look at him. "You're crying…"

"No, I…"

You sniffled, a little, had to bite your lip a moment before you could continue.

You pulled him close, lifted your hips for him once more.

"D-don't stop, please," you breathed. "I'm just… so… in love with you…"

His eyes, already so tender, seemed to drown in your words, to overflow at the same time with a sense of love that only you could understand in turn.

His hips snapped—jerked, a little, as if spurred to action by the heat of the moment. Deeper, this time, so wonderfully deep. It drew a single, broken gasp from you—half sob, half moan, and he knew.

He did it again.

"…Like that?" he whispered.

Again.

You gripped his shoulders, drew your nails down to his back. "Yes. Yes, please, just like that, Xavier."

And then you had found your rhythm.

Steady, deep, and perfect.

His hands framed your face, kissed your cheeks where the tears had fallen… so much tenderness, and reverence, and devotion, and you believed—

This was how it was supposed to be.

This was how it was meant to be.

And your hands roamed his back, down to his hips, pulling him deeper. "More, please, my prince…"

"Mnnh, but you can't… s-say my title, like I'm not—"

"Xavier."

You moaned his name to placate him, but snuck in a cheeky smile.

"Xavier, my prince, my liege, my—"

You could have squealed at the way he kissed you then.

In a rush to shut you up, perhaps, his kiss had lost much of the gentleness with which he'd been treating you. Deeper, rougher, messier—his tongue found yours, and he wasn't breathing you in, he was drinking you in.

Dizzy.

When he pulled away, you forgot how to breathe, and still his hips continued to move at his rhythm.

"I dare you," he spoke through gritted teeth, panting, "to say that again." A challenge. "Do you wish so badly to be reminded of our differences when I'm inside you?"

And though his words made you flush, you only shook your head.

"It feels… ah… I-it feels more real when I s-say it out loud—" You gasped, trying to take the pleasure he was giving you. "Th-that despite everything— Even if you're the prince, and I'm the knight, we're — oh, god— w-we're both still here… In this moment… Together..."

He gripped your hips, rocked into you in a way that made you breathless.

"…You're right," he murmured. "That isn't going to change what we feel. Not anymore."

The pleasure built further, then. Gradually. Quiet moans became harder to keep in check, especially not when you could feel him pulse the way he did.

"I-I'm…" you choked out, trying to hold back a cry. "C-close… Xavier…"

"Mhm. I am, too. L-let's… cum together…"

He held your hands, gripped them tightly as he stilled.

He throbbed; you felt it. And a warm, sticky sensation filled you, enough for you to tremble, enough for you to still—frozen, captured—

He kissed you, again. Whispered your name onto your lips, a soft gasp, a prayer.

And even afterwards, he didn't dare leave you.

He gathered you into his arms, not minding the mess, not minding the way you'd tangled together in the passion you'd shared just then.

And he kissed you over, and over, and over again—

"Xavier, I love you," you sniffled.

"And I love you, my angel. For you… have always been mine."

And in the quiet that followed, as you drifted into sleep… You felt that you finally believed it.

&—

You woke slowly, the sunlight filtering through the heavy curtains in soft strips of gold. Yet, the warmth that cocooned you wasn’t just the sun—

It was him.

Still, always, him.

Xavier, half-asleep, lay with one arm lazily draped across your waist, his breath steady against the back of your neck.

For a moment you simply lay there, smiling quietly to yourself. The memories of last night came back in waves—his touch, his voice, the way he’d held you like you was everything...

You'd cleaned, before you slept, but you still felt every little sensation so vividly. Even now your body still hummed from it, a quiet, satisfied ache in all the right places. And you thought, foolishly, that you really might just lie here forever, suspended in the hush of a private morning.

Until you felt the press of his lips at your shoulder.

Soft.

Then, again—lower, this time.

You blinked sleepily, shifting under the sheets. “You're awake?” you murmured, a smile at the edge of your lips.

He hummed. "I wouldn't be, but you're distracting."

You huffed a laugh, turning your head slightly to peer at him over your shoulder. “I’m not even doing anything…”

“You exist.” His mouth trailed down the curve of your spine, slow, purposeful. “It’s more than enough.”

And before you could react, really, you felt the last shape of his smile against your back before he moved even lower, slipping under the covers.

“Xavier…” you warned gently, though your voice had little conviction. A thrill had already started curling in your belly—anticipation, excitement. “You’re insatiable.”

“But I’ve shown restraint for years,” he murmured from somewhere near your hips. “I’m just making up for lost time. Besides…"

You squeaked as you felt him lick right above your mound, sending tingles all over your body.

"I didn't taste you last night. Don't I get a taste test of my beloved queen?"

Beloved queen.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Another kiss; inside your thigh, nuzzling into you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"X-Xavier—!"

His tongue was soft at first, teasing. Coaxing you awake in ways that had nothing to do with the sunlight. Your body arched of its own accord, slow and easy, thighs parting to grant him better access— You felt his hands hold you steady, and then he began to devour you with that same kind of reverence that made you feel drunk on him all over again.

You reached down blindly, fingers threading through his hair. “You really don’t have to—ah—Xavier—!"

“But I want to,” he said between kisses, between licks, with his breath still hot against you. “You taste really good, I wish I'd done this sooner.”

A moan spilled from your lips as his own closed right around your clit. It turned into a laugh, almost—you trembled, it was a little high pitched. “You—! Y-you're ridiculous,” you huffed, but still affection pooling in your chest as much as the heat searing between your legs.

This time, he didn't reply, not quite.

Just a groan—either from your words or the way you bucked slightly against his mouth, you couldn't really tell.

But oh, did it feel fucking good .

You felt him part your folds, add in a teasing lick at your entrance. He'd dip the tip of his tongue inside before gliding it achingly close to your clit—a few repetitions of the movement before it swirled over your bud, flicked it to the side.

"Oh, god—!"

Spurred on by your sounds, he only continued. Moaned against your skin, mixed in shamelessly with the lewd, slick sounds of your arousal. When his tongue slipped in, you cried—bucked, writhed, almost. Your fingers dug into his hair, and before you knew it, you were grinding into him, finding your rhythm.

"Xavier!" you whined. "Oh, god… oh, god, fffu—hnng—"

Your legs seized.

You felt him press you open, pushed onto the mattress, never daring to allow you any escape—

"C, c-cummin—ngh—!"

Your orgasm rushed to the surface as your back arched, curling into him with no more control over your movements.

But, greedily, he continued. Lapped you up, flicked at your clit. Enough so that by now you'd kicked at the covers, whined and tugged him up.

"Xavier… Xavier!" you huffed, panted.

When he stopped, finally, you sank weakly into the pillows, already drawing up one of them to cover your flushed face.

Not that he'd let you, of course.

He rose up to meet you with a smug, warm grin, crawling up to pull the pillow away and press a kiss to your cheek.

“Good morning,” he hummed.

Cheeky.

So, incredibly cheeky.

Donning a pout and feigning upset, you tilted your head to look at him, “Good morning, you menace.”

He only chuckled again and pulled you against his chest. “You like it, though.”

"You're lucky I do."

Your body was still warm, skin humming with the afterglow as you gave in and draped your arm across him. He was cozy, still. Despite the way you felt like you were already spent, you wouldn't turn away more cuddles from him. And in turn, he brushed his fingers up and down your bare back, slow and absent, as though touching you had become second nature.

You sighed contentedly.

"You know… most people start their mornings with tea."

"Mmm." A squeeze on your arm. "But this is better."

"You're going to spoil me."

"Good, I want to."

You felt him stir, then, and your breath caught—he ground against your thigh, just enough to earn you that delicious, delicious little groan.

"Your Highness…" you huffed.

"Mn, I know… But you're just so…"

Another grind, and you felt him tremble.

And it was so, so hard to resist, even for you.

"Please?" he murmured, nuzzling your neck.

"…Again? But you just…"

"I need you…"

And he rolled you gently onto your back, settled over you with a practiced ease.

A beat.

You looked at each other.

And now, like this, his eyes were so pleading, that you eventually broke out into a barely-contained smile of your own.

You were so weak.

He made you utterly, completely weak.

"Fine," you rolled your eyes, "last one, and then we get ready."

And it was so natural.

There was no urgency this time, only a warm familiarity as he slid into you. Still you felt the stretch, and still you felt yourself drawn in to take him all. And then you kissed, and gasped softly against his mouth, hands rising up to cradle the back of his neck.

“My prince,” you whispered, breath hitching as he began to move, “you’re impossible.”

He gave another peck to your lips, grinned as your hips lifted to meet his rhythm. This time it wasn't so deep, or hungry, or too much, it was just—

Right.

So right.

And kisses turned to giggles, and somewhere between slow thrusts and quiet moans, a conversation bubbled like the most natural thing in the world.

“I… still have meetings later,” he murmured against your neck. “Dull things. Reports, schedules. Nobles who love the sound of their own voices.”

Laughing softly, you arched into him again with a little hum. “And so I told you we mustn't take too long."

"But I want to spend the morning with you."

"You can't spend the whole morning…"

"Mn…" His hips moved with a slow roll then that made your eyes flutter, grinding against your sweet spot so perfect. “Still, it would be better if you were there.”

You grinned.

“As your knight or as your lover?” you teased, though something in your voice was soft. Wondering.

He looked at you then, his rhythm pausing just long enough for the weight of his gaze to settle. He brushed a strand of hair from your damp forehead.

“Both.”

You pulled him back into you, clung to him as you nuzzled into your neck.

"Ah, hearing you say that… feels almost as good as this…"

"This?"

He nudged your head, nipped at your cheek. You could feel him grin—another particularly angled thrust had the head of his cock kissing at your g-spot, and you shuddered.

"Mhm… just like that."

And he chuckled, timing every movement of his hips to hit that spot just right, just the way you liked it; only one time before and he'd already memorized every spot that made you cave so much.

He voiced it out. Poked his tongue out to make kitten licks at your neck, absolutely cherished the way that you groaned for him. "I already know what you like, angel. You like it here…"

His hand moved down, brushed against your nipple.

"And, here…"

With a grin, he dipped his head to nip at your collarbone.

"And, here…"

His hand moved lower down still, slid between your tangled limbs, and pressed against your clit.

You gasped, eyes wide, and he dared to grind against you, rubbing against your clit so perfectly that you nearly weeped again.

"X-Xavier!" you whimpered. "Y-you're so unfair, that's— ngh—"

Again he moved up your body to nuzzle your cheek affectionately, but his hand stayed at your nub and moved in slow, steady circles to match his hips.

“Today,” he said, breath warm and steady, “I’m going to tell them. The court. The council. Everyone.”

Your eyes widened, lips parted in pleasured puffs.

“I’m going to tell them I want to marry my knight,” he continued, fondly. “That I will.”

And you felt as if your heart could burst.

The world, around you, seemed to sway. Not from the motion of your bodies, even—but from this, this rush of emotion, the disbelief that settled into an overwhelming sense of love.

You didn't think you could love him any more than you did.

But he was very good at proving that notion wrong.

"You… you mean it?" you breathed.

"Mhm."

"You… I… I-I'm going to be your… queen?"

"Mhm."

He leaned in to kiss you again—that same gentle, soft kiss, followed by little fluttering ones all over your face until he reached the corners of your eyes.

Despite yourself, a little giggle fell from your lips, one that easily turned into a squeal as he flipped you over.

Now, with your face into the pillows, you felt his breath tickling your neck, as he gave you more kisses—down your back, along your spine, before he entered again.

Deeper this time. Much deeper than he had before.

"Oh, my god—Xavier, fuck— I—!"

He chuckled, raked his fingers through your hair. "Language," he murmured, "you're not being very classy today."

"Uh, it's your fault that I—!"

You barely got your words out before he slammed back into you, a motion causing your body to rock forward with a gasp. His weight pushed into you, laying like a weighted blanket, allowing you to feel just how deep he could take you.

"It's okay," he breathed, hot against the shell of your ear. "You're being such a good girl for me, my queen."

You could barely process his words, already dizzying at all these delicious sensations.

"You'll be the death of me, my liege."

When he moved again, it didn't take long for the both of you to reach your high. Similarly, still, to just the night before—his hips stilled, moans muffled into the nape of your neck, filling you wholly and completely and perfectly.

He'd turned you over then, pulling out slow, cradling your head in his hands.

"…I mean it," he whispered. "I want to marry you."

"…You're proposing to me after sex?" you laughed softly.

"Well… then do you accept?"

"Of course I do, Xavier."

He smiled. "I'm going to make you my queen. Just you wait."

"If… they don't accept?"

"We can always elope. You'd still be my queen."

You laughed again.

How odd it was, you found, that even in this situation you could still find humor, and comfort. But you supposed that was what it was like—when things felt right, when things felt settled enough.

In your heart, you knew that everything was going to be alright.

The promise lingered, settled in the quiet that followed. Here, in this room, you had everything you needed—you lay with tangled limbs, your hearts so open and tethered, and a world of hope waiting on the other side of the door, but you had each other.

That was the most important part.

You had each other.

© solifloris. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[seilnakyle]

do you have any dickbabs reading recommendations (especially if they're babs focused)? I read batgirl year one and some nightwing too, but I would love to delve deeper into their relationship

thank you sm in advance 🙏

They just don’t do slow burn in comics like Dickbabs anymore ♥️

If you’re coming right off batgirl year one (masterpiece. Redefined my life. Forever altered my brain) I definitely recommend you read Nightwing Year one as well, (starts at issue #101 of Nightwing (1996)

In this list I have included everything I can, but If I missed anything significant please feel free to let me know!

Pre-Crisis:

Detective Comics (1937): #359

The Batman Family (1975): #1, 2, 3, 5, 7, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 20

POST CRISIS:

Robin Year One (2000): #4

Batgirl Year One (2003)

Nightwing Year One - Nightwing (1996): #101-106

Nightwing (1995): #2

Nightwing (1996): #0.5, 7, 14, 16-18, 19, 20, 24, 25, 37, 38-87, 88, 89, 100, 104, 109, 117, 153 (this isn’t EVERY issue Babs is in but all the important ones)

Batman Chronicles (1996): #9

Some of the best and most beautiful dickbabs moments come from birds of prey, and they give a great look into Babs’ side of things too! I recommend reading Bop and Nightwing alongside each other (If you can!) And I alos recommend you read some Batman arcs like Cataclysm, No Man’s Land and Bruce Wayne, Murderer? They show Dick and Babs working together and with the batfam. Fun Fact and slight spoiler for the ending of No Man’s Land, The ending scene where Dick and Helena randomly kiss was supposed to be between Dick and Babs, but someone messed up, and Rucka kinda just thought Dick was a horndog so no one fixed it 💔 there is still some good Dickbabs moments within that arc tho

Birds Of Prey (1999): #8, 19, 20, 23-61, 71, 76, 86

Robin (1993): #71

Gotham Knights: #17, 18, 26, 30, 32, 34, 35, 36, 42, 43

Harley Quinn (2000): #10-12

DC One Million (1998): #1 , 3

DC Universe Holiday Bash (1997): #2

Batman: Black Mirror (they aren’t together in this but it’s still important reading for their relationship imo and a fascinating/thrilling Dick!bats story with lots of Oracle besides)

Nightwing Annual 2 (for the conclusion of the proposal from Nightwing #117)

Li’l Gotham (2013): #1, 7, 10, 17

Convergence Nightwing/Oracle #1-2 (for the wedding. This is how pre-boot ended as far as I’m concerned)

New 52 Reboot:

Nightwing (2011): #4, Annual 1

Batgirl (2011): #3, 18, 21, 30, Annual 3, 45

Grayson (2014): #2, #12

REBIRTH:

Nightwing (2016) #1, 2, 3, 15, 44, 45, 46, 47, Annual 1

Batgirl (2016): #7, 10, 14, 15, 16, 17, 25

Dark Nights: Death Metal - the Last Stories of the DC Universe: #1

Batman (2016): #55

Batgirl (2016): #43, 50

Nightwing (2016): #50, 72, 73, 74, 75, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 100, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120, 121, 122, 123 (ongoing)

Batman (2016): #100, 104, 118, 126, 127, 128, 137, 141, 145, 146, 148, 149,

Batgirls (2021): #7, 8, 10, 12

The Flash (2016): #787

Future State: Nightwing (2021): #1, 2

Future State: The Next Batman (2021): #4

Superman: Son of Kal-El (2021): #13

Saved by the Belle Reve (2022): #1

Tales of the Titans (2023): #1

Titans: Beast World (2023): #2, 3, 4, 6

Titans (2023): #6, 7

Batman / Santa Clause: Silent Knight (2023): #1-4

How to lose a Guy Gardener in 10 days (2024): #1

Super-Pets Special: Bitedentity Crisis (2024): #1

ELSEWORLDS / BLACK LABEL

Thrillkiller (1997): #1-3

Young Justice (2011): #22, 23, 25

Earth 2: World’s End (2014): #1, 3, 4, 6, 9, 10

Earth 2 (2012): #29

Batman: White Knight (2017): #1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Batman: White Knight: Batman Day (2018): #1

Batman: Curse of the White Knight (2019): #4

Batman: Beyond The White Knight (2022): #1, 4, 6, 7, 8

The Batman & Scooby-Doo Mysteries (2021): #4

Dc vs. Vampires (2021): #1, #2, #3, 4, 8, 12

Batman: The Long Halloween - The Last Halloween (2024): #1

Batman: Dark Age (2024): #4, 5, 6

The Boy Wonder (2024): #1

[mcflymemes]

FANTASY SETTINGS / LOCATIONS PROMPTS *  fantasy location based prompts for starters, adjust as necessary

[ 01 ] under the shelter of an ancient oak tree in the depths of a dark forest

[ 02 ] a rickety bridge hanging over a massive waterfall

[ 03 ] a tiny village bakery, the shelves stocked with freshly baked goods

[ 04 ] standing beside a massive magical portal. who knows where it might lead?

[ 05 ] the darkest depths of a dragon's lair, gold glittering at your feet

[ 06 ] a vast, empty field with a bright blue sky overhead

[ 07 ] the space between two shelves stuffed with magical tomes and old leatherbound journals

[ 08 ] a rowdy village tavern crowded with drunk, singing patrons

[ 09 ] a winding path in the dark that leads to nowhere

[ 10 ] the crumbling remains of a burnt-out homestead

[ 11 ] another realm, unknown to you, the lights bright enough to blind you

[ 12 ] a tiny tent in the middle of the woods, the fading embers of your campfire still glowing just outside the door

[ 13 ] a tidy apothecary shop crowded with labeled jars and bowls of supplies

[ 14 ] the fiery lair of your mortal enemy

[ 15 ] the hallowed halls of an ancient sanctuary, stone walls covered in vines and light peeking in through cracks in the ceiling

[ 16 ] a civilized throne room, lanterns lit on the walls leading up to the throne itself

[ 17 ] a dewy meadow perfect for a picnic

[ 18 ] a valley packed with tents, knights , and weapons all readying themselves for a major battle

[ 19 ] a bright, snowy glen

[ 20 ] a strange village doused in darkness, the streets teeming with cloaked figures and suspicious individuals

[ 21 ] a chilly cave hidden behind a waterfall

[ 22 ] in the midst of a dangerous battle, bandits attacking from all sides

[ 23 ] at the foot of a massive, venerated shrine, one that's been forgotten by time and worn down with age

[ 24 ] a busy village market, shopkeepers shouting their prices and selling their wares to curious passerby

[ 25 ] a magical greenhouse with glowing plants and precious, healing herbs

[countrymusiclover]

The Lion Knight and Dragon Princess

Robert Baratheon believes he has wiped out the last Targaryen children, but what if that isn't the case. What if Jaime Lannister who everyone refers to as "Kingslayer" had a hand in it. Would the middle daughter of the Mad King and Rhaella Targaryen wish to claim the Iron Throne. Read the story of Vaella Targaryen.

1 - The Lannister Kingsguard

2 - One Day It'll Be Just You and Me

3 - The Reputation Of A Princess

4 - We Have A Thing For Knights Don’t We?

5 - Tavern to Red Keep

6 - Here's to Aerys Targaryen

7 - Smells like Fire

8 - We're Family Now and Always

9 - Secretly Vaella Lannister

10 - Still A Golden Lion

11 - He’s Finally Mine

12 - Guilty of being a Dwarf

13 - Facing Cersei Lannister

14 - Targaryen’s and Lannister’s

15 - This is Home

16 - The Loyalty of Dragons

17 - Myrcella Lannister

18 - The Rock Shall Never Fall

19 - Targaryen Sisters Finally Clash

20 - Back to being a Prisoner

21 - The Lannister Trials

22 - More than One Plan

23 - The Legacy of Rhaegar

24 - When Dragons Flew to War

25 - The Dragon Island

26 - Playing the Game Now

27 - War Between Kin

28 - Loyalists of Queen Vaella

29 - Two Dragon Queens

30 - The King in the North

31 - Who Really Deserves The Throne

32 - Message of a Dragon

33 - Dragon vs Dragon

34 - From the South to the North

35 - Acting Like Our Father

36 - Heirs of the Rock or Throne

37 - The Night King part 1

38 - The Night King part 2

39 - Winterfell Celebration

40 - Rhaegar and Lyanna’s Child

41 - No Longer A Bastard

42 - All the Dragons Roar

43 - The People of King's Landing

44 - Securing the City

45 - The Rightful Queen

46 - Creating the new Westeros

47 - The Rightful Heir

48 - History Sometimes Repeats Itself

49 - The Realm Will Be Better

50 - Uniting North and South

Comments really appreciated ❤️

Tags- just send an ask to be added @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila @noirrose21-blog @lover-of-books-and-tea

@melvia-ito

[bittersuitejacobs]

• an unhealthy obsession •

{Nate Jacobs/Original Character}

Ophelia is no stranger to wanting. For most of her life it's all she'd been allowed to do, trapped on the outside looking in, window shopping for normal experiences. Ophelia is also no stranger to obsession. Books, movies, TV shows; a terribly ill child who never even had the chance to make a real friend, she took what she could from fiction. All she'd ever wanted growing up, the thing she obsessed over, was someone who could save her, from her life, from herself. Someone who could make her feel alive.

So when her attention is caught by a beautiful, awful boy with a saviour complex, Ophelia vows not to remain a stranger to him either, no matter the cost.

Ophelia may no longer need to be saved, but Nate Jacobs makes her feel so damn alive, so she will turn herself into the kind of girl he wants, needs, and obsesses over too.

• in which Ophelia and Nate are somehow not the worst things to ever happen to each other. •

Warnings: Explicit Smut, Mutual Obsession, Stalking, Manipulative Behaviour, Possessive Behaviour, Infidelity/Cheating, Drinking, Violence, Non-Consensual Drug Use & Sexual Assault, Childhood Parental Abuse (Medical/Psychological/Emotional). Chapters will contain specific warnings.

{ fic playlist }

+ IN PROGRESS +

[ Season One ]

1. spectacle

2. the slate cleaned

3. knight in shining armour

4. according to plan

5. unexpected ink

6. daddy's angel

7. a week of turtlenecks

8. like and subscribe

9. dirty little secret

10. praise kink

11. deja vu

12. little black dress

13. fight flight fawn freeze

14. the aftermath of violence

15. boot theory

16. i quite enjoy ruining your day

17. mutually assured destruction

18. detriments of the modern age

19. justly serv'd

20. sanctuary

21. paper stars

[ Season Two ]

22. resolutions

23. bpm

+ ...

[ Alternate Universe ]

cool for the summer

Nate's been best friends with Lee Chase for as long as he can remember, and Lee's little sister Ophelia has always been... there. The best thing about her is how easy she is to ignore.

But everything changes between them when Lee and his dad go to Fiji for the Summer before their Junior year, and Nate and Lee's moms decide to spend that time holidaying together up the coast, taking the rest of their children with them.

So now, much to Nate's chagrin, he's forced to share a bed with his best friend's sixteen year old sister, who he's barely even had a full conversation with before in his life. But he quickly realises that she's bolder than he gave her credit for. Maybe it's a good thing her brother's on the other side of the world.

Warnings: Explicit Smut, Possessive Behaviour, Underage Drinking, Ongoing Parental Neglect/Emotional Abuse, Compulsive Over exercising as a Form of Self Harm, Mental Healthy & Unreality Struggles. Chapters will contain specific warnings.

1. Reintroduce

2. Reinvent

3. Recontextualise

4. Reconfigure

5. Realise

6. Revitalise

7. Reiterate

8. Reconnect

9. Restring

+ ...

Posting of completed chapters for the main fic will begin in the next few days.

Posting of the AU will begin after Chapter 10 of the main fic and will alternate.

THE TAGLIST IS ALWAYS OPEN !

(just message or comment to be added; I'll add you to the taglist for both unless you let me know you only wanna be tagged for updates from one)

[dc-tournaments]

So a very long time ago someone sent an ask wondering if the characters who were the most nominated for any given tournament actually tended to win that tournament. At that point in time, this blog was fairly new and did not have much data. Now I do.

Villain of All Time: no nomination data found because I lost it. Whoopsie. DC Editorial won

Worst Costume: three-way tie between Pill Helmet Red Hood, Drake, and Purple Arsenal for most nominations. RHATO Starfire won the tournament.

Queerest "Cishet": Dick Grayson has the most nominations but was disqualified early on for being canonically bisexual in the Gotham Knights game. Beatriz da Costa won.

The Incompetency Awards: Tie between John Constantine and Stephanie Brown for most nominations. Steph was eliminated in Round 1. DC Editorial won

Fuck This Guy In Particular: tie between Batman and Deathstroke. Danny Phantom, our honorary guest character, won

Most Unhinged: Tim had the most nominations and then was eliminated in Round 1. Eobard Thawne won.

SexyWOMAN #Feminism: Starfire had the most nominations and then she won the tournament.

Super Animal Illegal Fight Ring: Dex-Starr has the most nominations and won the tournament.

Deadest Corpse: Jason Todd had the most nominations. Aquababy won

Most Adorable Littlest Baby Heroling: three-way tie between Jason Todd, Billy Batson, and Wally West. Lian Harper won.

Transgender Swag Award: tie between Guy Gardner and Kon-El. Kate Godwin won.

Platonic Soulmates Award: Dick & Donna got 18 nominations, the most by a landslide. Shaggy & Scooby Doo won.

Autism Creature Incarnate: Bart Allen got the most nominations. Cassandra Cain won.

Mental Stability Award: tie between Wonder Woman and Superman for most nominations. Death of the Endless won the tournament

DC's Next Top Fashionista: Dick Grayson got the most nominations, beating Kori out by one, but Kori won the tournament itself.

MILF of All Time: Talia al Ghul set the blog record at a whopping 21 individual nominations and then she won the tournament

Egregious Tax Evader: Lex Luthor got the most nominations, also at 21 and tying for the record (which I am just now noticing). Billy Batson, with just one nomination, won the whole thing

Pathetic Wet Cat: tie between Tim Drake and Jean-Paul Valley. Tim was, again, eliminated in Round 1. The Riddler won.

Disability Pride Award: Barbara Gordon got the most nominations. Freddy Freeman won.

[homiesexual-or-homosexual]

King! Eddie Munson but w/ dragons

Pairing: King!Eddie Munson x Princess!reader

Warnings: Eddie is 21 and the reader is somewhere between 18-19, hopefully it's proofread enough, my first 5k I think, very very slowburn, like one creepy old man, a spoiled prince, you get slapped (not by Eddie), your dad and brothers are kinda eh, if I missed any then let me know

Word Count: 5k

Summary: You're of age now and your kingdoms throws a Choosing of the Suitors for you. On day one, a certain king catches your eye.

———

You sat on the far right side of the five thrones. Your mother and father in the middle, both of your older brothers on either side of them, and you on the far right side (if you were to face the thrones). A large dog-sized white dragon with blue undertones lounged across the top of your throne, eyeing the large crowd below with light yellow eyes. Its tail swayed, catching on the frills of your long sleeves.

You were dressed in one of your best dresses, hair done, and subtle makeup on your face. To mimic your big dragon, your dress was white with pastel lilac highlights, an add-on in honor of your favorite color.

You tried your best to sit up right, you really did, but today’s occasion just couldn’t grasp your full attention. You were Of Age now. Suitors of nearby kingdoms and far-off allies were brought to your father’s kingdom and displayed to you by their parents or executives, which were often older siblings, personal knights, or other older family members that were highly respected. But the suitors were either men that were too old for you, way too young for you, or something about them would throw you off if they were in your age group. You scanned over those in your age group, taking in characteristics but mostly how they watched you. Some looked as bored as you felt, but most looked at you with ill intent, never quite meeting your eyes. Your little dragon huffed and puffed at the men, which was your key indicator of which of them not to expect much out of.

You watch the announcer at the bottom of the steps announce the next suitor. You watch as a king and queen guide a boy about your age up the steps and stop on the third step down from the thrones.

“Good evening King Aven and Queen Victoria,” the king of the Morning Hills greeted. “I present my only son, William Hill. He has come of age, just like your princess. As your closest ally, I believe this will bring us even closer.”

Your presented suitor was a tall blond, his hair brushed back and his ice blue eyes scanned over you. He was rather fit, but still, just like others, nothing about him caught your eye.

“Oh yes, King Charles,” Your father spoke. “We are glad you’ve decided to present your recent Of Age son, and we will gladly consider him amongst the others.”

You knew what that meant. It meant that William Hill of Morning Hills was going to be the top most considered suitor of this week, as the Presentation of the Suitors usually lasted all week.

You and your little dragon huffed as you leaned an elbow on the arm of your little throne and smushed your cheek into your fist. You crossed your ankles and stared into the crowd, watching as castle staff brought in tables that surrounded the perimeters of the throne room so that when dinner was ready, everyone sat in the same room.

Four more suitors went by, none catching your eye. Until the fifth.

An older man, maybe in his late forties or early fifties and dressed in black and garnet formal wear led a boy, about your age, up the stairs.

The boy was dressed in king wear, black and garnet colored like the older man. A simple jeweled crown atop his head. A chain necklace adorned his neck, as did thick rings on both of his hands. He had long, dark, curly hair and dark chocolate eyes that seemed to pull you in like tar. He met your eyes, the first man to do so. He gave you and small wave, and you one back.

“Executive Wayne Munson,” The older man spoke. “Of the Mordor Kingdom. I present my nephew, King Edward Munson, son of King Munson. He became king at 17 years of age and is currently 20 years of age. I know things between our kingdoms have been tense in the past, but we hope to renew the trust between our two kingdoms.”

You look at your parents and brothers. They look tense.

Surely this kind looking boy can’t be the son of King Munson. The king that almost caused multiple wars and has killed many dragons in his reign of terror.

“Why aren’t you King, Wayne Munson?” Your father asked. “When you had the opportunity? Why allow a 17 year old kid to become king?”

“He was King Munson’s hier. Rightful to the throne,” Wayne Munson answered. “I would not be fit to be King. And I believed King Edward Munson would’ve done great things for our kingdom, as he has done and is doing currently.”

“Do you have your own dragon, King Edward Munson?” You father turned his attention to the boy, who’s been quietly observing you.

The boy, King Edward Munson, turned his attention to your parents, “King Munson, please.”

Your father stared him down, and King Munson only stared back with a small, sincere small on his face. It took a few seconds before your father nodded and muttered a “King Munson.”

“And I do,” King Munson answered.

“What kind?” You father pressed.

“A big red one,” The king answered. “I’ve raised him from an egg and he’s grown mighty big since then. As you might know, the Mordor Kingdom is known for our rather large dragons.”

Your father hummed, “And your kingdom?”

“Yes,” King Munson nodded. “We’ve replenished our dragon population and as well as have grown the wealth of my people. People live well and have what they need and want. My common folk are wealthy enough for a family of four and a dragon or two. We’ve opened our trades if you would like to discuss that further in the future.”

“Let’s just focus on the princess here,” Your father redirected the boy.

King Munson’s eyes drifted to you and he smiled, “Yes, let’s. I hope she will consider me. I welcome her with open arms and open doors.”

Your father nodded and waved them away. The announcer at the bottom of the steps was already guiding up another suitor and his parents. But you can’t take your eyes from King Munson. You follow his frame as he and his uncle settle at one of the large tables off on the left side of the room, easily in eyesight of you.

Your brother kicks your leg. You glare at him, before looking back at the present suitor. You huff and slouch back down, still stealing looks at your highly considered suitor.

Fifteen more suitors go by. Announcing their families, kingdoms, and whatnot. But none more catch you eyes. And soon, it’s dinner time. Castle staff bring in another table and sit it at the bottom of the stairs to the thrones and set the table.

Kitchen staff come out and line the tables with fresh meat, fruits, bread, and wines.

Your family makes your way down to your table, with your baby dragon at your side. You fill your plate with chicken slices, fruit pieces, and bread. Your wine is filled. You wait until your family’s four executives fill in the empty seats at your table to eat. Your father and mother sit on opposites heads, one brother for each parent and you sit by your father. You dig in once everyone is sat, tuning out the conversation at the table.

You notice your baby dragon is antsy, looking at the tables. You nudge him and give him the go-ahead. He scrambles and off and under the tables and you watched the faces of executives and suitors as your dragon passed over their feet. It’s your personal test of the suitors and a test of the dragons. Whomever treats your dragon best will allow you to be able to tell which suitors to consider and which to toss to the dragon’s pit.

You’re brought out of your survey by a hand on your thigh. You look who it is and it’s your father’s oldest and most trusted executive. You scrunch your nose and pull your leg away.

“No matter who you’re married off to,” He starts. “You’ll always be our little girl.”

You cross your legs and pull away more. You bring your attention back to the suitors, seeing the faces of those your dragon passed by. They were looking at you with multitudes of expressions but most whispering and gossiping to their parents. You went down the tables, seeing who your dragon was at now and it brought you to King Munson and his uncle. A little white head was peaking out from under the table and between his legs. King Munson seemed surprised but not upset, patting your dragon on the head and giving him small pieces of meat. He looked up at you with a look that was asking a million questions. You shrugged like you had absolutely no idea what was going on and smiled. The King seemed to understand what your plan was and smiled back.

It seems your dragon likes him and that told you everything.

“You need to control that dragon,” The executive from before said, distaste on his tongue.

“You’re luckily we let you keep him,” Your oldest brother sneered from across the table.

“Oh yes. Because we can control who dragons breed with,” You said sarcastically. “I’m not at fault for taking away Tungi’s eggs and handing them off to other people like they were stale pieces of bread.”

“You only got to keep that egg because that dragon of yours severely injured one of my trustee’s,” Your father argued.

“Did he survive?” You asked, eyebrows raised. You already knew the answer.

Your father went quiet because, yes, his trustee survived the wrath of a mother dragon.

“What are you considered suitors, princess?” An executive that sat diagonal from you asked.

“Prince Williams Hill,” Your father answered.

“And King Munson,” You added.

The table went quiet.

“He is a tyrant’s son!” Your brother barked. “His father had caused many wars and many losses. It was his choice to separate from the United Kings!”

“And our choice to drive him farther away,” You added on. “And his son, King Munson, wants to reinforce the ties and open trades! And I think it’s a grand idea! And so far, he’s been the only suitor to look me in the eyes and nowhere else, and actually address me when presenting himself!”

“Our concerns should be with allies, not what you want!” Your father growled.

“King Munson is a chance to reconnect with a past ally,” You pointed out. “So I am thinking of your allies!”

Your table went quiet and the horns of announcement broke the tension.

You looked and saw a Castle Staff in the middle of the room.

“As dinner comes to a close, we will start the Dance of the Suitors,” the man announced. “Suitors may find this as a chance to dance with the princess. Those who wait to have a turn will be given a lady to dance with!”

Tens of ladies walk in from the doors and file into the center of the room.

“Each dance will last for 15 minutes and in total for two and a half hours,” The announcer made his way out of the crowd. “Start!”

Just as you got up, your baby dragon, Alioth, scampered over. You told him to go back up to your throne and gave him a little piece of watermelon as a treat for being so good. You watched as he crawled up and onto your throne, happily open-mouthed chewing the fruit as he settled to watch you on the floor. Your family settled in their thrones soon after.

You turned and bumped into someone. You went to apologize but noticed it was William Hill. You noticed how his eyes hurriedly switched from your bosom to your eyes.

“Want to dance?” He held out a hand.

You held in a sigh and took it.

William lead you to the dance floor and walked you along to the sound of the orchestra playing in the corner. He placed his free hand on your hip and kept hold your hand in his other. His hand on your waist was too low for comfort so you adjusted. Then it was too high, his thumb brushing under your breast. So you moved it back down, and it was still too low. You just sighed and settled for that.

“Your little pet paid me a visit,” William noted.

“Oh yes,” You acted like your forgot. “Sometimes it’s so hard to control baby dragons.”

“I remember those days with mine,” William sighed dreamily. “They didn’t last long though.”

You knew that. You’ve seen the way he treats his dragon. You’re surprised he hasn’t been eaten by now.

“I’m luckily to be your future husband,” William told you like he was already for certain to be your future spouse. “I just know you will give me many children. We will just fill up the castle because of how many you will have.”

You scrunched your nose and took a step back to separate yourself from the blond boy, but he took two steps forward, smushing your chests together. He looked down and smiled, but not warmly. You huffed in response, looking out into the surrounding crowd to see if you could see King Munson.

“Looking for someone?” William asked.

Before you could answer the horn blew to signal to switch partners. And you gladly did.

Your next conversation didn’t go much better than William, and neither were their hands.

You went round and round and your head felt dizzy and your lungs felt heavy. Your feet hurt and all noise seemed to mush together by the end of the last 30 minutes. When the last horn to switch rang, you accidentally bumped into your last partner. It woke you from your daze and you apologized profusely, but your rambling was cut short when you realized who you bumped into.

King Munson stood in front of you. He was so much taller and broader up close. He was so intimidating and so inviting at the same time. His curly hair was slightly frizzy from the day’s events and he had freckles dotting his cheeks. His eyes weren’t a dark brown, almost black like you thought before but a warm umber color, but they pulled you in all the same. His gaze was kind and apologetic. It must’ve been the opposite of yours, all wide-eyed and surprised.

“Sorry about that,” King Munson apologized, offering a hand.

“No-no! I’m sorry!” You apologized. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’ve just been dancing for so long- and I’m rambling, sorry!”

“Don’t be sorry,” King Munson slowly guided your hand into his and settled his hand appropriately on your waist. “It’s been a long two hours and a half.”

He smiled down at you and lead you along to the orchestra that’s been going this whole time. It almost feels like it’s just you two in the room once you get going. His hands feel appreciatively warm and respectful. King Munson’s hands have just the right amount of pressure against your layers of cloth.

“I was visited by a friend earlier,” King Munson starts. “And I assume it doesn’t just have to do with him being a baby dragon?”

He knows. And you smile, a glint in your eye.

“Alioth,” You start. “I sent him on a mission. Whomever he likes, I like. A dragon knows, and thus, do I.”

King Munson laughs, “So any suitors catch your eye?”

“Oh, just this,” You trail off. “Dark, curly haired king that’s adorned with thick rings on his fingers and a chain necklace. He’s pretty handsome. He seems nice too. And I hear he has the largest dragons in all of the United Kingdoms. Now that’s impressive.”

“Oh it’s nothing really, sweetheart,” He smiles again.

Sweetheart.

You blush.

“He seems like some guy, huh?” King Munson pushes gently, trying to catch your eyes.

“And I’m glad to be dancing with him,” You smile.

“And I’m glad to be dancing with you,” King Munson compliments.

The horn to end the dancing sounds out. The crowd disperses almost instantly but it takes you and King Munson a moment to separate, allowing prying eyes to see where the princess has gone.

Everyone goes back to their seats and executives, and you back to your throne. Your brothers and father glare at you. Your mother gives no indication of how she feels. But Alioth greets you with chirps and purrs, his wings flapping excitedly. You all settle as the announcer from before settles on the third step up from the ground floor.

“Tomorrow!” He starts. “Suitors will show what they learned during knighthood to show their strengths and weaknesses. Details will be discussed tomorrow. And tomorrow, a new ritual will be added. The royal family and the princess’s dragon will observe suitors' dragons. As previously stated, details will be discussed tomorrow. Now. Suitors and their executives will be led to their temporary stay rooms where they will stay nightly for the rest of this week. Goodnight to you all and I hope to see you all tomorrow!”

Castle Staff fills the room, leading guests to the visitor wing of the castle. Kitchen staff come to clean the tables, and your personal, and your brothers’ personal, staff come to accompany you to your room.

Once to your room, your ladies undress you and clean you up. They fluff up your bed and bring food for Tungi and Alioth, knowing you’ll feed them once your ladies leave. They bid you goodnight after leaving a plate of fruits for you to snack on and shut your door.

Your rooms takes the highest tower of the castle, the top half modified with stairs and a large open room with a large opening in the wall for your dragons to take off form. Being the princess has its perks.

You make your way to your dragons’ quarters, food in hand. Tungi, a large white dragon with oddly shaped spines that go from the back of her head to the end of her tail, meets you at the top of the stairs. You butt heads with her, reaching up to her horns, that curl in. She purrs as you pull back.

You pour the dragon food on the stone floor and let your dragons eat. You sit with them once their done, leaning against Tungi’s warm body. Soon enough, you’ve fallen asleep with Alioth’s head on your lap.

You wake up to a knock on your bedroom door. It’s just after sunrise. And you remember, how did you get to your bed? You don’t have time to think as your personal ladies come in and usher you from bed. They feed you breakfast as they dress you and brush your hair.

Your ladies don’t dress you in as many layers today. Still dressing you nice, but no corset, and with enough airflow for wind to blow throughout the dress. They do your hair so it won’t be too bothersome today.

As if he senses you up, Alioth comes barreling down from the stairs of the dragons’ quarters. Your ladies laugh at him and feed him some of your breakfast. Afterwards, they lead you out and down to the back courtyard, where the suitors are already practice with dull swords and daggers, but mostly swords. You scan the crowd for King Munson and spot him in a back corner, practice fighting one of your suitors. You settle beside your family under an overhang.

The announcers lets his presence be known as he stands in front of your family.

“Today we will be showing off the strengths of the suitors and what they’ve learned during knighthood. They will be practice with dull swords and other weapons of choosing. We will start with one on one and then switch to groups after ten minutes,” The announcer speaks. “Lest, rules! No harm will be permitted. Any intentional harm towards passive rival with result in immediate termination and sent back home. Yeigh?”

The suitors respond.

“Begin!”

The suitors begin their practice fighting, the clang of swords and grunts of men sounding out. You’re at the perfect angle to see King Munson. He’s obviously had some practice with the sword he’s chosen. He’s precise and an expert at blocking, aware of all parts of his body. He dodges and ducks, pointing out the weak spots in his opponent. You notice that the king has tied his hair back, keeping it from making multiple disadvantages on his end.

You watch a mixture of King Munson and the suitors for the next ten minutes. They’re all good fighters, and you hear your father and brothers praise the men or point out weaknesses. You don’t notice your mother coming to stand beside you until she puts a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I didn’t get to choose,” She speaks.

You look over at her, surprised.

“But you do,” She pauses to look you in the eyes. “And whomever you choose will be a good one. Any thoughts?”

You look at the fake fighting men again, watching King Munson.

“I like King Munson,” You tell her.

“He seems like a good boy,” Your mother says. “He’ll take great care of you. I can’t say the same for Prince William Hill.”

You nod, agreeing.

A horn blows. The announcers says it’s time to group together in previously selected groups. He pauses and allows the men to get together and then gives the signal to begin.

You watch as King Munson, Prince William Hill, and a third suitor are paired together. They start at the signal, hitting swords to show off their area of perception and the speed of their defensive reflexes. It hits about the five minutes mark before King Munson catches both your and his opponents by surprise.

King Munson pushes both opponents back by two steps. He knocks William Hill’s sword from his hands a few feet away and holds his sword to William’s throat, a forced surrender. Anticipating the third man’s move, King Munson, whirls around and knocks into the man’s wrist which causes him to let go of his sword and drop it. King Munson holds a dagger to the man’s throat. They both surrender and he backs off. He goes to help Prince William off the ground, but the blond boy slaps King Munson’s hand away and lifts himself off the ground.

Before the trio can engaged in more practice fighting, the ending horn goes off. The men put their weapons back where they found them and they’re all filed through the castle and into the front courtyard where the suitor’s dragons have been brought out for observing. The suitors and their executives join their dragons.

You tell Alioth to go get “his mama”, Tungi. You watch him as he flies to your tower and comes back with Tungi. Tungi seems to know what’s going on, as she’s heard you talk about this for a couple months now. She looks around the courtyard.

Your parents and brothers go around the courtyard, conversing with the suitors and their companions, but you don’t move from Tungi as you wait for her to move.

Your dragon looks around and sounds out a purring sound. You hear the other dragons try to match it. After a moment, Tungi locks her target on a dragon. She starts moving, and you and Alioth follow. You look and see she’s heading towards a, rather large, red dragon. His horns twist twice and point back, never lifting above the line of his brow.

You look for the dragon’s companion and find a very familiar curly haired boy. He meets your eyes with a smile and a wave. You wave back, and unable to contain his excitement, Alioth gallops forwards and barrels towards King Munson. The king meets your baby dragon with eagerness and pets him when Alioth crashes into him.

You meet Eddie just beside your dragons.

“Hi,” King Munson greets, smiling with teeth at you.

“Hi,” You say back shyly.

“Princess Y/n,” King Munson’s uncle steps forward. “It’s an honor.”

“Oh no, it’s an honor for me, sir,” You tell him. “I’m glad to hear your kingdom is doing well.”

“Yours as well,” The older man says. “But may I ask, what is this new ritual?”

“Oh yes! A couple other kingdoms do it as well,” You start. “The princess is still able to choose her suitor, but it’s important that her dragon has a say too. So this new ritual allows the princess to either confirm her already chosen suitor, which no one else knows about, or for the princess to filter out some of the existing suitors if she hasn’t made a choice.”

“But I hear this princess already has a choice in mind,” King Munson says.

“Perhaps,” You smile and rock back and forth on your heels. “But that’s me to know and you to find out.”

Just before you can continue your conversation, something warm and large nudges you. You look to the side and is met with a large orange eye with yellow flecks in the iris. The large dragon switches sides so he can look at you from the other side and nudges you again, almost knocking you over.

“Woah, Gourd,” King Munson catches you and gently shoves his dragon away.

Tungi puts her own face down beside Gourd’s and pushes him away, purring gently. Gourd purrs back. Their moment of calm is interrupted by Alioth who jumps up and puts his two front talons on Gourd’s muzzle, chirping up at him and talking with all excitement.

“Gourd?” You look at King Munson.

“Like pumpkins and stuff,” He explains.

“Do you have lots of pumpkins in Mordor?” You ask.

“Lots,” He nods.

You, King Munson, and his executive/Uncle Wayne Munson stand under an overhang for the rest of the afternoon, making small talk and people watching. You also watch how Gourd interacts with Alioth, nudging him around and blowing smoke at the youngling as a form of play.

As the sun sets, it blinds you but only for a moment as it’s blocked. King Munson and Wayne stop talking as you look over, seeing Prince William Hill creating the new shadow. He looks between you three before making eye contact with you.

“Wouldn’t you rather come converse with other suitors, princess?” Prince William asks.

“No, but thank you,” You say. “I prefer to stay with my dragon, and she prefers to stay with King Munson’s dragon. And King Munson and his executive are making lovely conversation at the moment.”

“Wouldn’t you rather consider an ally of your father’s?” Prince William presses. “A close ally. One that is more. . . suitable for you?”

“No,” You shake your head. “But again, thank you for your offer.”

Prince William opens his mouth to say something but is cut off by a horn sounding out throughout the front courtyard.

“Suitors!” The announcer that’s been helping announce and organize for this whole week long event starts. “Time to place your dragons back at the visitor stables and head back towards the dining hall in time for dinner. The royal family will see you there!”

“That is my cue, my princess,” King Munson straightens from leaning on the wall. “I will see you in a few, yes?”

“Yes,” You nod.

King Munson grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles before he and Wayne Munson lead Gourd away and back to the visitor stables. You watch them until they blend into the crowd of people and dragons.

You hadn’t notice Prince William walk away, but you shrug it off and go to meet your family in the middle of the courtyard. You tell them that you’ll bring Tungi and Alioth back to your room and that you’ll see them in the dining hall. You climb Tungi’s arm and up you go on your short journey to the dragon’s quarters above your own. Once there, you praise Tungi for her behavior and that you’ll feed her and Alioth after your dinner. Alioth follows you to the dining room and prances alongside you through the hallways. You get about halfway down the hallway to the dining hall before a hand grabs your wrist and pulls you off to the side and out of the way.

You’re met with disheveled blond hair and sharp blue eyes. Prince William. He still grips your wrist as he pulls you closer. Alioth pulls at his pant leg in an attempt to get Prince William to leave you alone, but the boy just shakes him off.

“What is with you?” The blond all but snarls at you.

“What?” You ask, having no idea what he’s implying as you try to pull away.

“We’re supposed to get married,” Prince William starts. “I’m supposed to be your chosen suitor. I’m supposed to be courting you, and you’re supposed to be all over me and so clung onto me that I can barely stand you by the time it’s our honeymoon.”

“Where do you get that idea? Who’s been telling you that?” You’ve had no news that this Choosing of the Suitors was supposed to end in an arranged marriage, if that’s what Prince William is implying.

“That executive of your father’s,” Prince William answers. “He said no matter what that we would be married and it is up to me to court you so it would end that way. But no matter what I do I can barely get you away from that son of a bastard king!”

You try to pull away again, “King Munson is no bastard’s son and you know that! He is as much of a suitor to me as you are! I just happen to be drawn to him very much because he’s very nice to me!”

“Nice shouldn’t matter!” William yells. “It should be your father’s allies that matter! Which is why this should’ve been an arranged marriage in the first place!!”

“Well I’m sorry for choosing someone that I like very much instead of thinking about my father!!” You yell back.

Your face whips to the side as a hand slaps you harshly on your cheek, making the skin hot and tingly. A gasp is torn from your throat and you’re in too much shock to cradle your cheek. Before either of you can say anything and voice speaks from down the corridor.

“Is there a problem here?”

You look over and it’s King Munson and Wayne Munson. You see King Munson speak some words to his uncle and Wayne walks towards the dining room. He eyes Prince William as he passes and disappears behind the large doors without a word. Steps echo as King Munson walks forward.

“Nothing that I can’t handle,” Prince William answers. “The princess was just out of line for a few moments. She needed to be reminded of who her superiors are.”

King Munson nods and stops just before you two, keeping a barely respectful distance.

“So if you don’t mind-“ the prince is cut off.

“I wasn’t asking you,” King Munson turns his attention towards you and waits for answer.

“No-no, King Munson,” You stutter, submissive under the eyes of the two men. “Just- um. . speaking, is all.”

The king eyes your face, obviously eyeing your reddened cheek. His eyes trail over to your wrist, still tightly grasped in Prince William’s hand. It seems to get tighter when King Munson’s eyes lay upon the connection, making you wince. That doesn’t go unnoticed either. He switches his gaze back to the prince.

“Well, as your superior,” King Munson starts. “I need you to let go of the princess.”

“But you are-“

“The son of a bastard does not make me any less king. And king I am, I am your superior,” King Munson says, threat in his tone. “And if you don’t let go of the princess, I will do it for you.”

“Oh yeah?” Prince William challenges. “What are you gonna-“

He’s cut off with a surprised noise as King Munson grips the prince’s shoulder and presses down on a spot with his thumb, instantly weakening his arm and sending him to the ground. King Munson brings you and him a few steps back as you both watch Prince William recover from the attack.

“Run along now, boy,” The king waves him off. “I have some words I need to say to the princess. They’re more important than your. . . threats.”

“My father will be hearing about this!” Prince William threatens as he wabbles his way toward the dining room doors.

“I’m sure he will,” King Munson nods.

King Munson waits for the doors to completely shut behind the boy before facing you.

Alioth, who’s been on the sidelines, bumps against King Munson’s leg.

The curly haired man glances down at your baby dragon and then back to you. He brings a hand to your red cheek, feeling the skin. There’s a small cut from one of the prince’s rings. The king wets his thumb with his tongue and wipes it over the small wound, cleaning it of previous debris.

“Are you alright? Does this hurt?” he asks.

“Just a bit,” You tell him. “It still tingles.”

“You’re welting,” The king notes. “Hopefully it will be gone by morning. There’s a small cut as well from his ring. And your wrist-“

You both look down as King Munson cradles your wrist in one of his hands, turning it over to inspect the redness and the small indents from where Prince William’s fingernails presses into your skin. It looks like a bruise will form on the outermost part of your wrist from the pressure.

“Does your wrist hurt?” he asks again. “It looks like it’ll be sore tomorrow, if not by tonight.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, King Munson,” You take your wrist from his hand and hide it behind your back, away from his concerned eyes. “Do not worry about me. You can do that when we marry.”

“But if I do not worry now, who will worry?” He asks, distress swirling and mingling with the concern in his eyes.

“I’ve survived this long without you, King Munson,” You tell him. “I will survive a few days more.”

A light seems to go off in King Munson’s brain after a moment, “So we will marry? For sure?”

“You were considered,” You tell him. “And as my dragon chose, so did I.”

A big, teethy smile grows on the kings face, “Oh, I would kiss you, my dear, if it be allowed.”

“In a few days' time, King Munson,” You tell him. “But first, we must eat.”

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @hopeaha , @curiously-lazy , @ harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus

LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15 , PART 16 , PART 17 , PART 18 , PART 19 , PART 20 , PART 21 (You're here), PART 22

I forgot I never showed how Arthur and Lancelot became friends again so here it is:

After the events of "The Poison Chalice". Lancelot in the dungeons.

Lancelot: (lying on the floor, thinking) The luck I have. I came to become a knight and somehow, as soon as I arrive, I end up offending the Prince of Camelot himself (sighs) Maybe that dream didn't mean anything after all. Maybe I'm not fit to be a knight… But then why were the prince and that boy in my dream?

Gwen: (arrives with a plate of food) Uhm... Hello?

Lancelot: (stands up quickly) Oh.. hey! 😅

Guard: (opens the cell)

Gwen: (enters, blushing a little) I...uh... brought your food.

Lancelot: (laughs softly) I can see that (takes the plate) Thank you, my lady.

Gwen: I'm not a lady and don't thank me, it's my job. Well not really, I'm Lady Morgana's maidservant, but Merlin asked me to make sure they were feeding you, so, uhm, it's actually a favor. Not to you! But to my friend Merlin, that is. (thinking) Oh, gods! 😳 Why did I tell him all that?! 😫🤦‍♀️

Lancelot: Merlin?

Gwen: The boy you saved.

Guard: (urges Gwen to get out of the cell with a gesture)

Gwen: Right, sorry. (gets out of the cell)

Guard: (closes the cell)

Lancelot: (stops Gwen before she leaves) Wait! You said "saved". You mean he is alright?

Gwen: (smiles, touched at his worry) Safe and sound. He was just under the effects of a paralizing poison, but it was not letal. He can move now.

Lancelot: (sighs in relief) I'm glad... wait, then why am I here?

Gwen: (confused) what?

Lancelot: For how the Prince reacted I thought I was being arrested for murder! Does the Prince still think I tried to kill him? Hasn't your friend explained to him what happened?

Gwen: (laughs without being able to help it)

Lancelot: (confused and a bit offended) I don't believe my disgrace is funny, my lady.

Gwen: (still between laughs) No! it's not-Sorry, it's just... (turns to the guard, scolding him) You didn't tell him why he was arrrested?

Guard: (shrugs) That's not my job.

Gwen: (sighs and turns to Lancelot) You see-uhm... sorry, what's your name?

Lancelot: Lancelot.

Gwen: Lancelot, the prince didn't send you here because he thinks you murdered someone. He's keeping you here because you touched his manservant.

Lancelot: ...

Lancelot: What? 😧

Gwen: Merlin, the boy you saved, is his personal manservant, but also the token of his affections if you know what I mean and you were found in... a very compromising position.

Lancelot: I was just holding him!

Gwen: For his highness that's compromising enough.

Lancelot: But I saved his life! Shouldn't I be rewarded instead?

Gwen: Yeah, but that also means you stole him the chance to be the hero. Merlin has been defending you, of course, but apparently that just infuriated him more.

Lancelot: Oh...

Gwen: Yeah, you might be here for a while.

Lancelot: (scared) He is not going to execute me, is he?

Gwen: (with a comforting smile) No, he wouldn't go that far. (thinking) He is not King yet. (says) I have to go now. (starts leaving)

Lancelot: (shouts) I didn't get your name!

Gwen: (turns and smiles softly) It's Gwen, short for Guinevere.

Lancelot: (smiles back) Nice to meet you, Guinevere.

Gwen: (blushes and leaves)

Lancelot: (thinking) Suddenly life in prison is not so bad.

Time skip after Merlin moves to Arthur's antechambers. In Gaius's Tower

Merlin: (enters) Gaius, did you call for-What happened?! 😨 (Goes to Lancelot worried, who is being bandaged by Gaius)

Lancelot: Nothing.

Gaius: The prince and the knights decided to use Lancelot as a practice dummy.

Lancelot: More like a practice bag. 😓

Merlin: Wait, that was you?! I thought it was an actual dummy. You weren't moving at all.

Lancelot: It's worse if I defend myself (streches a little). It's no so bad though. I've learned a couple of new fighting technics today! 😊

Merlin: That's still not right. I'm going to talk to Arthur. (Makes a move to leave)

Gaius and Lancelot: (Shout so loud Merlin startles) NO! 😱

Merlin: (confused) Why not?

Gaius: My boy, Arthur is taking it out on Lancelot as bad as it is. Trying to intervine is just going to make things worse.

Merlin: I just don't get why he is treating you so badly. I always talk him well about you.

Lancelot: (grumbling) That's the problem.

Merlin: Uhm?

Lancelot: Do me a favor, Merlin. Talk him bad about me. Maybe that will work.

Gwen: (enters with small package) Good morning, Merlin, Gaius, Lancelot.

Lancelot: (straightens up inmediatly and smiles) Good morning! (smiles, but winces a little at the sudden movement)

Merlin: What brings you here, Gwen?

Gwen: Oh, I just came to bring Lancelot his food.(goes to Lancelot and gives him the package) I know the Prince has been giving you a hard time

Lancelot: (blushing) Thank you, my lady. But I'm not in the dungeons anymore, you don't have to-

Gwen: Still not a lady and it's no problem really. Sometimes there are leftovers in the royal kitchens and I hate to see food going to waste, so you're actually doing me a favor.

Lancelot: By eating the food nobody wanted?

Gwen: Yes.

Uncomfortable silence.

Gwen: Uh... Lady Morgana must be looking for me.

Lancelot: Right, sure. Send her my greetings. (thinkings) "Send her my greetings"?! 😳 Really?! 😫🤦‍♂️

Gwen: Goodbye. To all of you. (leaves quickly as red as a tomate)

Merlin and Gaius: ...

Merlin: Alright, what is going on? 🤨

Lancelot: I don't know what you are talking about. (unwraps Gwen's package) Uhmm... It smells good.😋

Merlin: Yeah, like it's been recently cooked despite it being leftovers that normally by this hour are, you know, cold.

Lancelot: (takes a bite of his food) Uhum.

Merlin: And isn't smoked pigeon Gwen's especiality?

Lancelot: Really? I didn't know. (takes another bite)

Merlin: (takes Lancelot's food from him rughly)

Lancelot: Hey! 😠

Merlin: (accusing) Have you been courting Gwen? 😠

Lancelot: What?! No!

Merlin: Well, she's definitely courting you!

Gaius: (scolding) Merlin! (takes the food from him and gives it back to Lancelot) What's the matter with you? What's wrong with Gwen showing interest in Lancelot?

Merlin: (raises his voice in desperation) That is not how it was supposed to be!

Gaius and Lancelot: ...

Gaius: Merlin-

Merlin: I have to go. (leaves)

Another uncomfortable silence.

Gaius: Aaand I never got to tell him the errands I had for him... (sighs and looks at Lancelot's food) Can I have some-

Lancelot: Mine 😠 (brings his food closer to him, protectively)

Time skip. Merlin in his new chambers watering his lily.

Merlin: (thinking) I shouldn't be this mad. Is not like Gwen is being unfaithful to Arthur. They are not together yet and they haven't shown any interest in the other either. And Lancelot has always loved Gwen, that's not a secret. I want Lancelot to be happy. He's my friend, but... Then who will be Arthur's Queen?

Arthur: (from the door that conects their rooms) You're going to drown it.

Merlin: (stops watering his lily and turns to Arthur, confused) What?

Arthur: The plant. (walks to him) If you give it too much water you can kill it.

Merlin: Oh, right. Sorry. (blushes)

Arthur: You should fertilize it too. Plants don't only live of water, you know?

Merlin: (laughs a little) Since when do you know so much about plants?

Arthur: (his smile wavers) I... read. (Composes himself and jokes) Something you should do more often if you even know what that is.

Merlin: ...

Arthur: Okay, what's troubling you?

Merlin: Uhm?

Arthur: No snarky reply, no insult. It seems serious.

Merlin: It's nothing. I'm being ridiculous.

Arthur: It's not ridiculous if it's bothering you.

Merlin: You wouldn't understand.

Arthur: Try me. (takes Merlin to a nearby seat and sits next to him) Come on, you can trust me.

Merlin: (sighs) Gwen and Lancelot like each other.

Arthur: ... Oh.

Merlin: I should be happy for them. I know I should but I didn't expect Gwen to fall in love with someone so soon! (thinking) Someone that it's not you. (says) And Lancelot is a good man and his feelings are sincere. I know he would make Gwen happy, but... (thinking) She was supposed to be happy with you.

Arthur: Merlin, are you... jealous of Lancelot?

Merlin: What? No!

Arthur: Of Gwen?

Merlin: No! She's my friend. They are both my friends. It's nothing like that.

Arthur: Friend's jealousy perhaps?

Merlin: Maybe? I don't know. I guess I'm just afraid of change. (thinking) And how this will change EVERYTHING ahead.

Arthur: (sighs in understanding) I know that feeling.

Merlin: And how do you feel about this?

Arthur: (confused) What?

Merlin: How do you feel about Gwen and Lancelot having feelings for one another? I mean, Gwen's been Morgana's maidservant since forever. You know her longer than I do.

Arthur: I... don't know. (Thinking) I know I was relieved to know Lancelot was after Guinevere instead of you, but I was also furious with Lancelot for making Guinevere cheat on me with him before. But I'm not mad at him for wanting to be with her now.

Merlin: But it doesn't bother you, does it? (Thinking) If you have feelings for her in this life too I'll intervine, but if you are okay with it I won't. Just tell me.

Arthur: (thinking) It should bother me, she was my wife after all, why doesn't it bother me? (Says) It's her life, Merlin. She can do what she wants.

Merlin: (sighs in relief) You are right. Thank you, Arthur. (Stands up and goes to the door)

Arthur: Wait, where are you going?

Merlin: (from the door) To give the new couple my support! 😊

Arthur: And your chores? Merlin! 😠

Merlin: (already gone)

Arthur: (sighs and keeps thinking) I loved Guinevere, I know I did. I should be at least upset about this and yet I'm not. I decided I would court Merlin instead of her before I traveled back in time. I already had Gwen in my other life and it wouldn't be fair to either of them if I went after both, but... It was easier than I expected. I haven't thought of Guinevere until Merlin mentioned this. (looks at his ring finger with a sense of nostalgia) Guinevere...

Arthur's flashback.

Arthur in his chambers writing a speech on his desk.

Gwen: (enters, in a cheering tone) Hey! They told me you were hiding here.

Arthur: (not looking up from his papers, in a bored tone) I'm not hiding, I'm writing a speech.

Gwen: For tomorrow's ceremony, I know. (gets closer) I can help you with that. Give it a feminine touch as you would call it. This way you'll finish this sooner... (hugs him from behind seductively) And his majesty can concentrate in something more... exciting.

Arthur: (doesn't react at all at her intend) I rather do it myself. Thank you, Guinevere. (keeps writing)

Gwen: (her smile falls and separates the hug, but composes the smile quickly) I was thinking on visiting my father's and Elyan's grave today. (her smile turns sad)

Arthur: (hums in acknowledgement, eyes still on his papers)

Gwen: I haven't done it in years since Morgana... you know... It's silly cause is not like she can harm me now, but I still have this... fear sometimes.

Arthur: (doesn't even hum now, eyes still on the papers)

Gwen: But I can't live with fear forever so I'll go today. I just... don't want to do it alone.

Arthur: (finally looks up from his papers) You won't be alone.

Gwen: (hopeful) Really?

Arthur: Of course not, you are the Queen. You can take all the knights you need. (looks back at his papers)

Gwen: (her face falls) Right... Yes, I guess I'll do that.

Arthur: (keeps writing in silence)

Gwen: (walks to the door but stops midway and suddenly grabs candelabra and throws it at Arthur in full rage)

Arthur: Ow! (Brings a hand to his head) What the- 😨

Gwen: (grabs a vase nearby and throws it at Arthur too, screaming in rage)

Arthur:(dodges it barely, still very startled) What's wrong with you?! Guinevere!

Gwen: (keeps throwing random things at him)

Arthur: (yells) Stop it! (goes to her, being hit or dodging objects constantly) What are you doing?! Guinevere! (holds her wrists to stop her)

Gwen: (shouts, histerical) NO! (frees from his hold and shoves him furiously) I CAN'T STAND IT ANYMORE!

Arthur: Can't stand what?

Gwen: You! This! (points both of them) Us! If there was even an us to begin with!

Arthur: What are you talking about? We are fine.

Gwen: (laughs dryly) We are NOT fine. But of course you haven't noticed! You don't pay attention to me at all! You don't care what I do, you don't care how I feel! You wouldn't even notice I'm gone!

Arthur: That's not true!

Gwen: Really? When was the last time we intimated? Even better, when was the last time we share a bed?

Arthur: ...

Gwen: You don't remember. Why would you? It was so long ago...

Arthur: Guinevere-

Gwen: But you didn't realise it until now, did you?

Arthur: (full of guilt) I'm so sorry. You are right, I've been a terrible husband-

Gwen: Husband? (laughs dryly again) Oh, Arthur, we have long stopped being wife and husband.

Arthur: (heartbroken) Don't say that.

Gwen: Don't pretend you are hurt now. Everyone in the castle knows you stopped loving me years ago. Or maybe you just pretended you loved me all this time.

Arthur: (angry) Who said that?

Gwen: Everybody! The servants, the nobels, the dogs even! It wouldn't surprise me if all Camelot knew!

Arthur: But someone must have told you this rumor-

Gwen: Is not a "rumor"! They told me that to my face!

Arthur: (very offended and angrier) They can't do that! You are their queen! It is a grave lack of respect-

Gwen: You think they respect me? I'm a peasant possing as Queen that can't even give them the heir they want. For them I'm no more than your little experiment at best.

Arthur: I had no idea-

Gwen: Exactly, just like you had no idea Morgana had me echanted for WEEKS until Merlin pointed it out. But you did notice when he left your side for more than 5 minutes, you noticed something was wrong with him before you left for Camlann and you noticed when he didn't smile for 3 days!

Arthur: (confused) Why are you bringing Merlin into this?

Gwen: I just don't understand! (tears run down her eyes) Why? Why did you marry me? You went against the council, the law itself just for what? To have me as some decorative queen?

Arthur: Of course not!

Gwen: THEN WHY?!

Arthur: BECAUSE I LOVED YOU!

Gwen: ...

Arthur: (realising his choice of words) I LOVE you. I meant to say-Guinevere! (Stops her by the arm when she starts leaving)

Gwen: (frees herself roughly and slaps him) Don't touch me! (Cries)

Arthur: (utterly shocked) ...Gwen-

Gwen: I should have run away with Lancelot when I had the chance! (Leaves closing the door behind her with force)

Arthur: (touching all the spots where Gwen hit him either with objects or her hands, feeling sudden pain) She's stronger than a give her credit sometimes. (sits on the bed) And does know where to hurt. (puts a hand on his chest, feeling hole in his heart)

End of Arthur's flashback.

Arthur: (thinking) Oh, gods... It's not that I didn't love her, but I stopped loving her way before I did the ritual. And she knew before I knew. (goes to the window and spots Gwen walking with the laundry) Guinevere, I know we were happy at least at the beginning. But even in our best days you weren't as happy as you could have been, were you? You never asked to be queen, you never wanted the title and the responsability. You just wanted a partner that adored you and respected you til the end, and I couldn't even give you that. You always loved Lancelot more... just as I always loved Merlin more. You told me before leaving that you just wanted me to be happy. Even when I made you miserable in our last years of marriage, you wished for my happiness. (sighs as Gwen goes out of sight) You also deserve to be happy.

Time skip. Lancelot at the stables.

Merlin: (enters) Hey... Sorry for how I reacted before.

Lancelot: (gives him a smile that doesn't reach his eyes) It's okay, Merlin-

Merlin: No, it's not! I was rude and mean and you didn't deserve that. I'll understand if you don't want to be my friend anymore.

Lancelot: (laughs) Merlin, I was thrown in the dungeons for you and that didn't stop me of wanting to be your friend, did it?

Merlin: No? 🥺

Lancelot: Of course not. (smiles) And I understand why you reacted that way. Gwen has been your friend for longer than I have and... I'm very aware I'm not the best match there is.

Merlin: Don't say that! You are more than worthy of her.

Lancelot: Really? She is Lady Morgana's maidservant and the blacksmith's daughter. I, on the other hand, don't even have a proper job and I came here with nothing because I have nothing for myself, much less to offer. And I met her when I was in the dungeons! what kind of good first impression is that?

Merlin: Good enough. She does like you. I can see it.

Lancelot: Gwen is a wonderful woman and I'm lucky she has any interest in me at all. But she deserves better than just... me.

Merlin: I think that's for her to decide. Don't you think?

Arthur: (enters) There you are. Lazing around as always.

Lancelot: (nervous) No, I wasn't, Sire! I-

Merlin: Relax, he's not talking to you. (aproaches Arthur) Need me for anything, my lord?

Arthur: No, but Gaius does. Apparently, there are some errands you should have done hours ago.

Merlin: (facepalms himself) Ugh, I forgot.

Arthur: What a surprise.

Merlin: On it! (leaves running)

Arthur: (turns to Lancelot with a serious face)

Lancelot: We were just talking I swear!

Arthur: (throws a sheathed sword at him)

Lancelot: (catches it in reflex) ... Sire?

Arthur: Not bad.

Lancelot: (still confused) Would you like me to sharpen your sword again, sire?

Arthur: Don't worry. I have my own. (points his sheated sword in his belt) What I'd like is for you to kill me.

Lancelot: (even more confused) Sire? 😥

Arthur: Come on, don't pretend you don't want to. Hell, if I were you, I'd want to. (unsheates his sword)

Lancelot: (unsheates his sword carefully)

Arthur: (smirks) Come on!

*insert epic sword fight*

Arthur: (smiles) Not bad indeed. (sheates his sword and puts it aside) It's a shame the Knight code doesn't allow commoners in the calvalry.

Lancelot: (nods sadly) Merlin informed me of that, Sire.

Arthur: I can make an exception for you though.

Lancelot: (hopeful) Really, sire?

Arthur: You just have to do me a favor.

Lancelot: (very happy) Anything! I'm so grateful you are giving me this chance, sire! I am forever in debt with you!

Arthur: Do you know Guinevere?

Lancelot: (confused at the sudden change of subject) Yes, she is lady Morgana's maidservant.

Arthur: Such a beauty, isn't she?

Lancelot: (frowns) She is.

Arthur: I know you two are close.

Lancelot: Oh, we are just friends, but yes. We have grown really close, sire.

Arthur: That's perfect. Then it will be easy for you to do what I'm going to ask you.

Lancelot: Which is?

Arthur: I want you to convince her to join me on bed tonight.

Lancelot: ...

Lancelot: (any trace of kindness on his face gone) What?

Arthur: I would ask her myself, but I want discretion, you see. And since you are so close to her, I'm sure you would have no problem-

Lancelot: No.

Arthur: Excuse me?

Lancelot: I won't do that, sire.

Arthur: Oh, it's a real shame. (sighs) I'll ask someone else to do it then. (turns to leave)

Lancelot: (blocks his way) No! I won't let you dishonor Gwen like that!

Arthur: (laughs) Like she has any honor to defend.

Lancelot: (unsheates his sword pointing it at Arthur's throat, furious)

Arthur: Lancelot?

Lancelot: Take it back.

Arthur: Lancelot, you are threatening your Prince.

Lancelot: (raises his voice) You are NOT my prince! How dare you speak of a maid like Gwen like that! I don't care that you are the Prince of Camelot or of all Albion! I rather die by decapitation for regicide than let such a dishonorable man taint her!

Arthur: (smiles proudly) You are right. Gwen deserves a man that treasures her and defends her of everything and everyone... just like you are doing now.

Lancelot: ... What? 😧

Arthur: Well done, Lancelot. You have my blessing.

Lancelot: Your... blessing?

Arthur: To court Guinevere.

Lancelot: ...

Arthur: You can put the sword down, you know?

Lancelot: (sheates the sword and puts it away, blushing) Sorry, Sire.

Arthur: So, when will you start courting her?

Lancelot: (still pretty confused) I wasn't really planning on it, sire.

Arthur: Don't tell me you don't have feelings for her. You were about to kill me for insulting her just a minute ago.

Lancelot: It's not that!

Arthur: Oh, you think she is not good enough for you? 🤨

Lancelot: No! It's me who is not good enough for her!

Arthur: Because you are a poor country peasant that was arrested as soon as he laid a foot in the citadel?

Lancelot: ...Yes?

Arthur: It may sound ridiculous for me of all people to say this, but titles and possessions don't actually define your value, Lancelot. My father believes that nobelty is defined by blood and the family you were born. I, however, believe nobelty is defined by the actions of men and what they have here. (points Lancelot's chest) And I can tell you for certain you are the noblest man I ever met.

Lancelot: (looks at Arthur in awe)

Arthur: So court her! Fight for her! Even if a lord or a prince or even a king shows interest in her, because they might have riches, but not what really matters.

Lancelot: (nods, emotional) I will. Thank you, Sire.

Arthur: Don't thank me. I can't actually make you a knight, Lancelot, not until I'm king. But I can give you the training meanwhile if you allow me. In exchange of that I do need a favor of you.

Lancelot: You... want me to ask Merlin to join your bed?

Arthur: (blushes furiously) What? No! I would never-

Lancelot: (laughs)

Arthur: (laughs too) Alright, I think I deserved that. No, what I want is for you to protect him when I can't. He tends to get into trouble constantly as you could see and I can't always be around to protect him myself as much as I'd like to.

Lancelot: (smiles) You can count on me, Sire.

Timeskip. In Morgana's chambers.

Gwen: (enters with a couple of flowers in her hair)

Morgana: (compliments) Nice touch.

Gwen: (shyly, blushes) Thanks.

Morgana: Wait, I know that face. (gets closer to Gwen) Are they from someone? 😏

Gwen: (blushes more)

Morgana: Don't tell me. Lancelot?

Gwen: (nods, smiling brightly) He gifted them to me.

Morgana: I can't believe it! Finally! (hugs her) It was about time he made a move. (pulls away) I'm so happy for you.

Gwen: We barely just started courting. It may not last.

Morgana: It will. He'd be a fool to let a wonderful girl like you go. (caresses her face fondly) You know what? You can have the rest of the day off.

Gwen: But you-

Morgana: Will manage on my own just fine. Have a date with your man. You earned it.

Gwen: Thank you so much, my lady. (about to bow)

Morgana: (stops her) Morgana. Just Morgana this time.

Gwen: Morgana. (hugs her) thank you. (pulls away) I'll tell you everything when I get back! (goes to the door)

Morgana: I want every detail!

Gwen: (leaves closing the door behind her)

Morgana: (her smile falls as soon as Gwen is gone) It's fine. (goes to her bed and sits) She's happy. (smiles again, but her eyes water) Gods, I've never seen her... (sobs without being able to help it) so happy!

...

The events of this part happen just before the events of "Lancelot" for which I already wrote a small fragment and I don't plan to write more on that episode really cause basically the only thing the changes is that Lancelot kills the griffin when it first attacked Merlin since Merlin echants Lancelot's weapon sooner and that's when he properly discovers Merlin's magic (though he already suspected it). I will write a bit more of "Excalibur" though and extend myself in "The Moment of Truth" and "The Labyrinth of Gedref" because there are gonna be important changes there. Once finished with that I'll full on go with Series 2 (where most of your requests are). So enjoy Series 1 :D!! cause series 2 is when everything will go to hell

[gerbiloftriumph]

So, how old is King Graham, anyway? Speculation under the cut, with dev statements and other supporting details! (but it's all speculation.)

To begin, we need to decide how old Graham is in the knightly tournament. Lead concept artist Evan Cagle once had a Tumblr, and once answered fan questions, but it's since been deleted. With the power of Wayback, though....!

The relevant piece is here:

This is also how supported by files in the game itself are organized, by general age blocks.

(interestingly, Achaka isn't called by name in the game files, but simply called WellKnight.)

So, Graham is in his teens, for certain. Old enough to drive. One could argue he's 16, with that rodent license, as that's traditionally when kids learn to drive. But he's clearly planning on moving away from home, and he has been to school and graduated. "I started looking for knight jobs while I was still in the academy, but once I graduated all the opportunities had dried up."

I propose, therefore, that since he's clearly graduated, he's slightly older. My guess? 18. In America, at least, people tend to graduate high school at 18, maybe looking for colleges, and they're old enough to join the military (knighthood). Possibly 19 (I truly don’t think younger works for how old he Must be at minimum in ch2), but I'm going to stick to 18, personally. (Grachaka fans, enjoy!)

Also: "You don't like the taste of lanky teenager" doesn't preclude 18, let's go.

How long was he a knight for Daventry before he was king'd by Edward? That's very unclear. However, his model doesn't change much (I think his hair gets a little longer? or is that just his cowl), and his concept art doesn't change much (it's just a hat adjustment and that little bit of scruff that I love oh so much). So, he's probably not that much older between contestant and king.

We've got to do some speculation here, and I'm going to select 3 years as a royal knight of Daventry. That would give him time to grow as Edward's favorite and establish himself in the space, without necessarily changing too much facewise. Maybe it's less time based on how little he's physically changing at this point, but I need him to get into his 20s for chapter two for the concept art and model name, and Edward needs at least A Single reason to crown this kid, even if the guards do say that this tournament "could lead to the throne of Daventry itself!"

Therefore, I'm going to put him at 21 years old in the prologue.

21 is another milestone in America, where you can start drinking legally, so it feels right to me to put him here at a big change in his life, even if in Daventry he's almost certainly been enjoying that mead for a while now. ;)

He's crowned immediately upon his return to the castle with the mirror, so he's got to be king at 21.

HOWEVER. There's something coming up soon that requires him to be, at minimum, 22 years old at some point in this year, if not older. I'm very fond of character birthdays being the date the game came out. Therefore, Graham's birthday should be July 28th, as that's the day the reboot came out on PC (2015).

I'm also fond of the idea that each chapter takes place in a different season in Daventry, Ch1 obviously being Fall, Ch4 obviously being Winter, Ch3 seemingly Spring with those bright greens, which leaves Ch2 in Summer. Monsoon seasons are often in Summer, which lets the rain Graham experiences be a typical Daventrian summer. Perhaps, July?

I propose Graham turns 22 in his captivity. Prison birthday! Sorry, your majesty.

There's a specific reason he's got to be 22 here. It's the absolute youngest he can be, so it suits his concept art. Why?

Taylor Fey.

Bramble is pregnant, and while we're not sure how far along she is, we're going to say Taylor's due soon, because we need Graham to look like his teen self for concept art reasons, and we also need to get him into his 30s for his next mile marker in concept art and game model naming convention.

In chapter three, if you visit the Feys, you get this exchange:

Graham: "Where's Taylor?" Bramble: "He's at home. Probably cutting up our curtains again." Wente: "When I was that boy's age, I would roll dough for hours every day after school in me ma's shop. But not my boy. He doesn't have the stomach for hard work." Bramble: "Or the stomach for sweets. Can you imagine? An eight year-old, not liking sweets? It's not like frosting is an acquired taste."

Taylor will eventually move to Serenia, to become the tailor, haha.

But! The important thing! The conversation reveals that, in chapter 3, Taylor is eight years old. So, eight years have to pass between ch2 and 3, and Graham's got to be in his 30s.

Therefore, in the goblin prison, he needs to be 22 years old, at minimum. (also, sidebar of mostly irrelevance, if you go straight into a 4 year college after graduating high school at 18, you probably get your first real job at 22, mmm delicious imposter syndrome in your first real adult position, except you've got a kingdom on the line this time.)

So. In Chapter 3, he shall be, to me, exactly 30 years old. (he's probably going to turn 31 in a couple months, as I'm sure this chapter takes place in the spring, for how warm the days are and cold the nights are, as Graham complains about in the tower.)

That lets him hit all the markers he needs. Barely, sure, but it works so far.

Now, again, we need a liiiiiittle speculation. We need 18 years between Ch4 and the Ch4!Prologue, to account for Alexander. And Graham probably doesn't propose to Valanice right away again.

Now, the youngest he could be to make the ages and everything work is 32. But that's a remarkably fast dating, marriage, twin time turnaround. Neese might be into it, Vee probably wouldn't. So, we're going to age him a bit. So, he could be 32, but I think he'd rather be 34. That feels like they have time to court (properly this time), be engaged, prepare royal documentation and all the other things required, and then have twins.

(you could argue 33 too, or push it much older, 35 or 36 or more, if you wanted, so long as you don't push out of the 30s for the model name convention, but I'm going to settle here on 34, personally.)

The important part is that 18 years pass, for Alexander to grow as Gwydion and escape Manannan (if we want to be super pedantic, he's 17 and a bit, but whatever, this is fudging and speculation and I'm not carefully considering where Graham's birthday falls in the year either or I'd get confused).

So, he's about 52 years old now!

Fantastic. This is the last time we have Josh Keaton voicing our younger Graham, and then we leap ahead to Christopher Lloyd and our Huge Glorious Kingly Beard.

Chapter Five, thank you, finally. The devs give us an actual age.

Olfie: "Yeah, your skin does look fantastic for 86." Graham: "Well, that's a shame… I'm 77."

Thank you, thank you.

Now, we have one more age to hit. Bedridden modern Graham. We have a little cheat here, too. Not in the concept art, which just lists ?, but in the game models. He's in his 90s.

Alexander and Rosella are in their 50s in the modern day now, as their game models say. If my math is right, Alexander should be 43 in Ch5's adventuring portion. So I need to add at least 7 years to get the twins into their 50s in the modern sections.

I'm not great at math, and I'm juggling a lot here, so correct me if I'm wrong, but if my math is right, modern day Graham *should* be 84 at a minimum now. But his model says he's in his 90s.

But if we make Alexander 56 in the modern day, I think we can make Graham 90.

So, he's probably exactly 90, for the character model naming convention.

I dare not figure out how this fits in classic series--which isn't helped by Graham apparently having gray hair at a younger age probably due to that heart attack at the end of kq3.

So, there we have it. My personal bad math and staring at concept art and game files and trying to make guesses about my favorite king and his ages.

tl;dr:

Ch1 - 18 (graduated high school) Prologue - 21 (he needs to be in his 20s, this works) Ch2 - 22 ("happy birthday," sing the goblins, off-key) Ch3 - 30 (aaaalmost 31) Prologue 2: Electric Boogaloo - 34 (...maybe) Ch4 - 52 (depends on the ch4!prologue) Ch5 - 77 (huzzah, stated!) Modern Day - 90 (for the models' naming conventions)

But what do you think? Decent mathing? Totally wrong? Would rather take a stab at it yourself and get Gwendolyn and Gart's ages involved? Let me know~!

[jedi-starbird]

Disaster Lineage Timeline and Ages

Here is a Disaster Lineage timeline that actually makes sense and includes all members, plus their relative ages for each event. For all my fic writers who also get a headache trying to figure them out.

I tried my best to keep the relative ages the same as what Canon or Legends gives us with 2 exceptions (Xanatos and Komari). So while the dates may not be canon accurate for becoming a padawan or Knighting, their ages are. The grey cells mark how old the person was when they died.

I've given permission for this to be on the SW Reference wiki. Here!

Enjoy and hope you have fun with it! Detailed explanations for birth-date changes below the cut!

Buckle in Folks.

OK, so Dooku must be aged up minimum 5 years in order to train Rael before Qui-Gon and so Qui-Gon can train Feemor and Xanatos before Obi-Wan. Rael has to be at least 10 years older than Qui-Gon so that he can be knighted when Qui-Gon is padawan age. Canon has Dooku take on Rael at 22 so I kept that cause it's funny and that means Dooku has to be older than his canon birthday of 102BBY to fit both in.

Neither of Qui-Gon's birthdays work if you want to fit the other lineage members in. This is not at all annoying. 80BBY(canon) has him too young to train both Feemor and Xanatos before Obi-Wan and 92BBY(legends) has him being 17 when he becomes a padawan if Dooku trains Rael before him. 86BBY is my magical average that just barely works. I use fanon that Qui-Gon takes over Feemor's training cause it's the only way to fit him in without making Qui-Gon too old, thus domino-affecting Rael and Dooku.

Does this mean the 4 of them are all knighted between ages 21-23? Yes? Is that insane? Yes, but alas it's the only way I could make the timeline work.

Komari is the only birth-date I've moved for non-math reasons, her actual birthday is 62BBY, same as Nim, but that makes her 18 at Galidraan and I felt that was too young personally. (She kills 20 Mandos singlehandedly there. yeah. wtf)

Xanatos's birthday and death date are the same but I made him older when he fell because Legends has him as 16 and that really feels too young, especially since he was considered for the goddamn Knight Trials when he fell and we know Anakin was considered exceptionally young when he was knighted at 19. It makes for some nice parallels between them. Plus all the shit Xanatos gets up to after he runs off, he should be a little older to pull it off.

[mrchiipchrome]

Knight In Shining Armor

W.C.- 800

Request- 'the reader is an introvert and not a hugging person. so, during camp w the lionesses, some players tease reader about it because the reader w Lessi is the opposite. Gf Lessi being protective of the reader?'

--------

Growing up as introverted as you did had been a challenge for sure, never really being able to open up to people making you feel left out most of the time. Maybe that’s why your parents made sure to put you to training in a teamsport as soon as they possibly could.

Still, you had major problems with getting and keeping friends, well until Alessia came along. 

The young blonde, then brunette, had defended you against some particularly nasty young girls at Charlton. They had pushed you over without any reason, making your newly washed kit all muddy again.

Then like a knight in shining armor, the short girl came over and stood right in front of you, so as to protect you from their nasty words and actions. 

With miraculous strength for a 6 year old, Alessia made sure that the two girls never bothered you again.

Ever since that day, your young heart only beat for her. There was nothing and no one that could come between your unbreakable bond, and with you in the midfield and Alessia up top, there was no better scoring duo than you two.

And at 7, you and Alessia got “married” after football with the trainer officiating. At 10, you and Alessia departed your childhood club in search of something bigger. At 11, you signed for the Arsenal youth academy and Alessia signed for the rival London club.

At 13, you transferred schools to be closer to one of your only friends and at 14, you confessed your obvious feelings for the other, sharing secret kisses between classes. 

At 16, you finally told your families about your relationship, your families who’d always known you’d end up with the other.

At 17, you signed your first pro contract with Arsenal while Alessia got offers to play at UNC. At 18, your heart broke for the first time as you knew how hard it would be to do long distance. At 19, you cried yourself to sleep every night because you were missing your soulmate.

At 21, Alessia returned to England and your introverted heart burst with happiness at your person being back in the same country as you. 

And when you won the euros alongside your love, you realized what a gift it was to have someone like her. Your very own knight in shining armor.

Even after becoming slightly less closed off to the world, there was still one thing you truly couldn’t stand, physical touch.

Whenever someone, excluding Alessia, touched you it felt like your skin was crawling and the feeling always brought tears to the corners of your eyes. 

It was the only non-negotiable thing, no touch. And Alessia had always been like a hawk, making sure to not let anyone touch you longer than deemed necessary.

So, when you once again arrive at camp basically attached to your girlfriend, it doesn’t take long for the other girls to start to tease you.

—-

“Hey Y/n/n, why don’t I get hugs like that?” You hear the unmistakable sound of Lucy Bronze’s voice echo through the lobby. The shell shocked expression on your face only makes Alessia tighten her grip around your waist, nearly putting herself in front of you in a protective stance.

“Yeah Y/n, I also want a nice long hug sometimes, maybe a kiss on the head” Georgia’s next as she sends you a quick wink to accompany her statement. The possessive growl Alessia lets escape her throat might be one of the hottest things you’d ever experienced.

“Come on Y/n, just give me a little hug, it would be nice!” Mary’s loud voice carries all through the lobby as she walks towards you with her arms fully open. 

That’s where Alessia’s had enough, her protective nature coming through in the most noticeable way possible. She moves her body fully in front of you, mostly blocking the three women's view of you as she holds her hand out to stop Mary from moving any closer to you.

“Right, that’s enough. Once is fine, but the two of you continuing when she’s obviously uncomfortable is just going too far. If she wants to give you a hug, then she’ll do it in her own time, are we clear?” Alessia’s booming voice is heard all throughout the lobby, and the three women in front of you nod their heads rapidly in agreement.

With a satisfied smile painting over her face, Alessia moves back to your side, hugging you protectively before leaning up and capturing your lips in a possessive kiss.

For good measure, as Alessia’s leading you towards the elevator, she turns back to the three women still standing in the same place as where she left them and winks. 

Yeah, Alessia was your knight in shining armor.

[doizy]

#0-#21 Card Series Garments predictions

This series of garments is linked to the collector's Jukebox, so I'm assuming all the characters chosen for this series are either 5 or 6 stars. Obviously this series will probably feature characters that have yet to be introduced too, so maybe I'll update this list at some points.

I'm not a tarot expert, nor have I played this game for very long so I fully welcome other opinions!

#0: The fool: Matilda

This is the card of new beginnings and idealism, and also being a little foolish. Seems to suit Matilda well, as one of our youngest amongst the main cast.

Diggers and Regulus are also options.

#1: The Magician : Melania (2.6)

#2: The High Priestess: Druvis III (2.5)

#3: The Empress: Tooth Fairy

A card about "motherhood" and nature. I chose Tooth Fairy because she's the most obvious"mom type" but the card could also fit Vila or Fatutu.

#4: The Emperor: A Knight

I'm not super sure about this one, it's a card about fatherhood and authority and I can't really think of a character that fits the "patriarch" archetype in this game. Maybe M. Duncan if they fully lean on the father figure vibe?

#5: The Hierophant: 6

Faith and enlightenment, education and knowledge. Pretty self-explanatory for 6. He already has two garments but he's pretty popular so I wouldn't be surprised to see more.

Pickles would also be a good choice.

#6: The Lovers : Jessica (2.8)

Great choice can't believe I didn't think of it.

Complicated choice in a game like reverse 1999 that relies on subtext rather than outright pairing. I'm assuming they'll lean in the platonic/complementary angle so I'm expecting Kanjira&Punji, hissabeth and her siblings or maybe Aleph?

(in a just world it would be Vertin and Schneider but Alas...)

#7: The Chariot: Lucy

It's a card about success, ambition and determination, a great match for progress incarnate.

#8: Strength : Ezra

Inner strength and compassion, could fit many characters, I like Ezra for it. Willow could be a cool option too.

#9: The Hermit : Shamane

A card about contemplation, solitude and inner strength Shamane seems like a pretty obvious choice. I would argue that Click could also work in the detached observer way, and Enigma would also fit the slightly more negative aspects of the card (I'm fully convinced he'll be playable sooner rather than later).

#10: The Wheel of Fortune : Kaalaa Baunaa

About fate, cycles and change. Could fits any of our diviners tbh, or maybe Centurion with her connection with luck?

#11: Justice : Dikke

Who else?

#12 : Then Hanged Man : Kakania

A card about martyrdom and self sacrifice, it would fit Kakania who chose to brave the storm for a chance of saving others.

#13: Death: Semmelweis

Death in Tarot means change and the end of a cycle for another. Fits Semmelweis story well in my opinion. They could also go with a more literal choice with Necrologist or a ghost character.

#14: Temperance : Blonney

The card of the middle path between the extremes.

Really not sure about this one... I went with Blonney because her character's arc is about embracing both her arcanist passions and the huma lifestyle.

#15: The Devil: Anjo Nala

Beside the obvious that as a succubus she's a type of devil, the Devil card card can mean materialism and playfulness which works for her.

#16: The Tower: Isolde

Usually seen as the most negative of the major arcana, it's the card of upheaval and disasters.

Could also fit Lopera and Sophia if/when she becomes playable.

#17: The Star : Voyager (2.6)

#18: The Moon: Mercuria

About illusions and intuition, a good fit for Mercuria.

They might give it to Sonetto because of her iconic quote from Amy Lowell's London Thoroughfare, 2 am; but as the designated "tutorial" character her garments have been free until now.

#19: The Sun: Regulus

Positivity and celebration, seems like it would fit the ever hopeful Regulus.

#20: Judgement : 37

Self awareness and revelation, would work well with 37. She has a couple of garments already but as one of the more popular characters we can certainly expect more.

Pickles would also be a great choice.

#21: The World: Barcarola Ulrich (2.8)

Wouldn't have been my first choice but it's a beautiful garment and I love Ulrich so I'm happy with it.

Barcarolla and her musical collection would be a good fit, even if I would love for it to be Vertin and her suitcase but since she doesn't get garments someone else will have to do.