I Just Finished Watching Cursed On Netflix...I Didn’t Expect Squirrel To End Up With A Dad But Here

Oh Lancelot, loved by the king, loved by the queen

Another Arthuriana idea I had for a while. Guinevere design is much inspired by William de Leftwich Dodge illustration

What if Epic the Musical was a spooky video game?

@lancedoncrimsonwings Thanks for the tag, plus, why are them so relatable?

I have no specific taste, except they all fantasy or medieval, expect one.

Catarina - Deus Salve o Rei (God Save the King)

Isaac Lahey - Teen wolf

Merida - Brave (Think that's the english name, If not please correct me.)

Bellatrix Lestrange - Harry Potter

Had Hatter - Alice in Wonderland

Natasha Romanoff - Marvel

Clawdeen Wolf - Monster High

@dinogod you next

You: If we're gonna date, you may have to defeat my seven fictional exes. Them: ...seven fictional exes? You: Yeah Them: ...fictional. Is that seriously a thing? You: you can say no. Them: What do I have to do? Tear up a book? *laughs* Okay! You: Don't say I didn't warn you...

so the question is...who are your seven fictional exes?

Saw a post talking about how interesting it is that a large amount of the whump community (here on tumblr, at least) is asexual.

Immediately after that on my dash was a post joking about “geez what do asexuals do with all the time and energy they dont spend yearning”

Well we use that time and energy for torturing fictional characters, apparently

Yey! I'm getting good at this, I think. Two Lancewain's banner for ya! Hope you like them

First of all, thanks for the tag @lancedoncrimsonwings! So this is a bunny plot I've been having for a long time, so it's time to put it on paper! But this will need a little context first.

France were considered a Latin country because of its language, nowadays it is no longer, but what does that mean? I looked for old French and the religion before Christianity, and discovered that they have heritage from three peoples: Celtic (Gauls), Germanic (Franks), and Latin (Romans). So that gives me three options for ancient religions for Lancelot: Celtic mythology (which would be the same as Gawain), Germanic/Norse mythology, and Greco-Roman mythology. But let's be honest, I really want to mix 'em and make the ash folk worship Hestia, Vesta in Roman, goddess of primordial and sacred fire; Belive that it's okay to die in battle because he'll go to Valhalla if that happens; And that he should be careful with nature at all costs because this is a manifestation of the gods. Gawain have Celtic mythology as his religion and worships many gods, but most importantly he worships Dune, as with all fey folks, because she is the mother Goddess of Celtic mythology.

Having explained that, what follows may be short and is much lighter than what I usually write.

It took some time for Lancelot to get used to the lack of restrictions of religion, or to the fact that he had no religion at all now. He became bored with everyday life very quickly now that he didn't have the christianity routine to follow. Finding himself sleeping without even being tired during the day quite oftenly, eating without praying first anymore, and willingly not fasting on sundays or doing frequent prayers.

He missed talking to God when he needed to, he never responded, but it was good to talk and let everything out. Deceiving himself that he was listening hurt, but it was also the only time he could let it out and allow himself to feel.

The months passed and they managed to settle in an abandoned place, they called it New Nemos, a very uncreative name for a place with so many heads. He still shared the house with Gawain and Squirrel, but something was out of place. Lancelot felt strange every time he passed through the entrance or the small living room, something had been bothering him since they arrived, and they had only been here for three days.

He felt a dull discomfort throughout his body and in his heart, a tightness in his throat that made him frown. He didn't realize what it was until he sat down to read and try to forget and accommodate, it was only then that something came to him. A smell of smoke, but there was no fire anywhere in the house, he checked- oh… It's only then that his brain ring the bells.

Lancelot was no longer a christian, but before he was forced into christianity, he and his folk worshiped Vesta, the goddess of fire, and it was tradition to light a sacred fire in the hearth whenever they moved or built something new as a symbol of the goddess and her protection. The discomfort he felt and the smell of smoke was Vestia asking him to light the hearth  like he used to do before.

Lancelot goes to the hearth and lights it with fey fire that he made from his own bare hands. "Better now?" He asks, looking at the hearth, and an almost imperceptible smile appears at the corner of his lips, his marks turn bright red, his eyes shine slightly when he sees the fire move and sway upwards, as if it were smiling and talking to him.

Maybe Vesta wanted him back. Maybe he wasn't as alone as he thought. His heart fills and the discomfort disappears, a sigh leaving his nostrils. Perhaps his gods still considered him their child.

fuck it homebrew boop button. reblog this post to boop the person you reblogged from.

Here's Squirrel/Percival as an actual squirrel!

And there's more, but I'll post the others throughout the week so I don't run out of content.

And tomorrow is Mink Weeping Monk/Lancelot day! @lancedoncrimsonwings

*Throw Lancelot homosexually thinking about Gawain at you and run.*

It’d been a month since NightPearl had adopted Lancelot as it’s mother. He didn't mind at all, in fact he found the little dragon adorable. It would sneak anywhere it could find, and its favorite place was his lap. The only problem was when it brought a dead rabbit in the tent and he had to throw it away, but other than that it was perfect.

On days like today, when he was lying on his back, NightPearl would come and sprawl on his chest, enjoying every fraction of Lancelot's natural warmth that it could get, while Lancelot caressed its long body and just listened to Squirrel’s nonsense or listened to Gawain's voice. He never really paid attention to what Gawain said, it was usually something boring about what the council was thinking about him or about his wounds, instead he paid attention to his voice, which was much more engaging than what was friendly allowed.

Sometimes Pym would make a joke about how Gawain would be jealous of NightPearl for being able to snuggle into Lancelot's chest while the two of them couldn't even sleep in the same bed. The monk always rolled his eyes and said it didn't make sense, even though his stupid heart beat a little faster every time he heard that. And thank God NightPearl didn't understand what the redhead was saying or it would bite Gawain from head to toe. He and Gawain barely saw each other, nor did they speak to each other properly, since talking was not something that Lancelot was taught to do often. It was not even part of his routine.

The world around Lancelot has never been so calm, and so boring. He was used to leaving very early, around six in the morning, half past six if he was feeling particularly lazy, and going to track the fey by tracks and scents. At ten o'clock he would return to camp and make an oral report of everything achieved, go to the fields to train for two hours, then go for lunch, have lunch, and leave again. After lunch he would go to the already tracked tribes, this time with a group of paladins, and would decimate and burn whatever they found. At sixteen hours he would escape from the rest of the paladins and take a secret bath to remove the excess dirt and blood that bothered his senses and skin. At seventeen o'clock he would be back at church and praying something particularly long, if it were Saturday he would pray a rosary, if it were Sunday he would be at mass. After mass, or pray, there is dinner, but if it were Saturday he would be fasting. Ten or nine o'clock at night he should already be in bed, because it's a few hours before Salt's torture sessions start and he would at least get a good rest if he slept earlier.

There is nothing in his routine about talking to anyone, except about reports and prayer, but only because it was part of his job and he should always seek God daily.

But now, with the fey, his entire meticulously memorized routine were thrown into the fifth of hells. Now his routine consisted of: Waking up, being forced by Gawain to eat breakfast followed by a lecture on why it’s important to eat every meal, then listening to Squirrel tell a story, lunch, Polly, actually now Pym, coming to check on his injuries. And now Pym stayed and told him about something that happened while she was with the Raiders or some new gossip at camp, which is strangely interesting. Squirrel arrives again, tells ‘em about his day. Gawain arrives with dinner for everyone, they talk and Lancelot is grateful for not being included, gods know how much he hates interacting while eating. Dinner ends, Pym and Squirrel go somewhere else, Gawain stays and cleans his injuries. They don't say anything, just stand there in the only alone moment they have. Gawain slowly cleans his broken skin with a wet cloth, his body closer than he had ever let any man or woman get close to him, he could hear his breathing behind him, The drops of water running down his back make him shiver, and he could feel Gawain's intense gaze on him the entire time. His careful hands went all over the length of his back before slowly pulling away. Gawain pulls away and tells Lancelot that it is ten o'clock, his usual bedtime. Lancelot turns and covers himself with the sheet that Squirrel stole for him on the first day, but that doesn't stop him from faintly hearing the other man change his clothes on the other side of the tent. The boots being thrown away, the shirt being taken off and discarded, the belt being left aside, the pants coming down his legs, as well as the new pants being put on, but no sound of the shirt being put on, Gawain did not sleep with his shirt on, and finally the sound of him laying down on the mattress and covering himself. He listens to every movement every night. Not that he was a pervert, he just had no option.

Now, NightPearl always comes and snuggles up to him, which makes his heart progressively slow down. God, what kind of demon did he come to live with to leave him like this? He would embarrass himself by the end of the year at this rate. Damn Gawain for having sounds so- NO! He couldn't think that! They are just tentmates, nothing more. Lancelot would curse Venus and Cupid before going to sleep, they are two motherfuckers for doing this to him.

 And on his worst days, Lancelot would have an unwanted dream about those sounds. But the gods know he would rather cut his own tongue out than say that to anyone.

for data: Venus=Aphrodite; Cupid=Eros.

@lancedoncrimsonwings @dinogod

I love turning on notifications for my favorite blogs. I think it's so cool to get notifications when they reblog or post something new, because it can range from comically big shit to something you have to use the 'i swear I'm a writer' excuse. Or it could just be something very gay or queer-related.

I love seeing what kind of shit people reblog. Like, what's on your for you that can range from sexual jokes to extremely specific facts to heavy gore?

@lancedoncrimsonwings @rabbit-flaying @holy3cake @grail-lifesupport This is about you.