#agent lancelot

[kissthebridee]

rip roxy morton you would've loved chappell roan

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

THE KING’S MAN HEADCANON

Archie Reid was the last surviving member of the original Kingsman group; retired from field work for reasons of age, he continued offering advice and mentorship to younger agents until his last day.

He didn't have the satisfaction to see his mentee, James Spencer, becoming a Kingsman and inheriting the codename Lancelot.

[theroundbartable]

Arthur: Merlin.... Can you explain those?

Merlin's back is full of scratches

Merlin: uh...

Memory: Merlin, running from the mafia, jumps over a fence where his jacket got stuck. One of the mafia guys shoot, barely miss Merlin. He falls into a container. He has done it. He's stolen the information that will help him create the antidote to the spread of a globally spreading virus that will make people addicted to cocaine, which funda the mafia. Now he only needs to get out of here. Merlin pulls out his own gun.

Merlin: ... Nothing?

Arthur: you've been fighting that racoon again, haven't you.

Bonus:

Merlin: a RACOON!!!! Why is that the first thing he thinks of? Why doesn't he think I'm... i dunno, cheating or something?!

Lancelot: because one of them is a lot less likely than the other, mate.

[gawrkin]

We should talk more about these guys. These are the guys who serve as the Literary agents of the Arthurian Romance Narrative, specifically for the Lancelot prose cycle.

Supposedly, they're the reason the stories of Lancelot, Galehaut, etc. manage to reach thw modern day. They're also how the french writers could deviate from previous material, insisting on premise they accurately recorded the happenings and deeds of the heroes not mentioned by Robert, Chretien or Geoffrey.

If you are to write an arthurian story but with your own spin and changes, you can attribute the difference to "they were totally wrong/super-biased/skewed the facts" and say "this is what really happened"

Or, more ambitiously, make up own own "source material and authorities"

[itzaltwins]

Y'know those agent profiles that are seen in TGC when Charlie hacks into the Kingsman database? I made these near the time I got into the franchise (late 2021), but I never shared them anywhere, mostly because I doubted the film makers really cared about their accuracy (and most viewers don't care either). I've never been hooked on any film franchise unlike video games, so I was shocked no one overanalyzed the images and shared it for the fandom to see. Well, here they are (with accompanying alt-text):

James is in there too - he deserves it.

Some of the text I couldn't make out from the film, so if you can fill in the blanks, please share. Fortunately, thanks to these tweets, I could read some parts better.

Explanations and thoughts under the cut:

I decided to mix Eggsy's profile from the one we see in TSS when he visits Harry at the infirmary and TGC. Why? He's apparently 5'9" IRL (so I went with TSS's 5'10" over the 6'00") and he couldn't be born in 1985 because he would be 29 in TSS, which is wrong. Same thing with Roxy's DOB. Changed their admission dates to 2014 instead of 2012.

Speaking of incorrect heights, I'm pretty sure they just threw in some random numbers: Colin Firth is 6'1½". In TSS, after the train test, you can see him and Alastair (Percival, 6'4") on the same plane. Alastair appears just slightly taller, so I assume 6'2". In this particular photo of Colin alongside Alastair and Carlos (Bedivere, 6'3"), they're all roughly the same height. However, they're not standing side-by-side so it's a bit difficult to determine the exact difference. They're like a variation of that three-headed dragon meme. Then there's this other photo with Chester (Lamorak, 6'5"), Carlos, Bimbo (Gawain, 6'3"), and Percival. Chester is clearly taller than all three. If Carlos and Alastair are 6'2", he's probably 6'4". Bimbo looks just slightly shorter, so he's 6'1". Oh and Jack Davenport (Lancelot/James) is also 6'2", not 6'1". Not a big deal overall, but I really like accuracy when it comes to heights.

Some things that may be of interest: Lamorak and Bedivere share admission dates. Next of kin for filler agents are actually those of the film crew in TGC (yes, I looked at the credits too much). Arthur (good) and Lancelot (James) share the same next of kin.

As for the notes sections: With The King's Man, it's impossible for Arthur to have served in all British special forces before Kingsman formed - he was born 1940. Bedivere is referred to as Percival. Percival is referred to as Kay (!), who doesn't have a profile. Finally, the section after Geraint's hair colour is covered by other profiles the entire time.

So yeah, do whatever you want with this info.

Who do you have as the last unnamed agent? I was hoping they'd officially confirm all the codenames in TKM, but then they only listed names we already knew plus Bedivere. They'll do it in TBB, right? Right?

[rcxylancelct-mcrtcn]

@familyoftwo | closed starter.

Despite the myriad of missions she’d come to embark and fulfill, there’s still the slightest hint of worry she wouldn’t manage to move past the first step. Perhaps it’s the pressure to perform, which is only amplified at every successful assignment. Perhaps it was because catching this target is vital in saving the world, cutting global expenditures in security if managed early on. Whatever it was, though, she pressed forward, determined to make this just as good as any other.

The first step: undercover surveillance. She’d looked at the mirror this morning and was slightly amused at looking quite like those cliché librarians in films that seem to have a hidden personality in them. But hiding in plain sight was exactly the goal, and she only hoped it was enough to be taken in.

Roxy walked in slight haste as she goaled to enter the shop within the first five minutes of its opening, prim and proper in her step, faux documents in one hand. It wasn’t long before she was finally at the foot of the bookshop—Helluo Librorium—ascertaining that this was exactly the place before moving in. At the corner of her eye, she had already spotted the dingy motel, the alleged hideout. Easy enough.

A hand pushed the door so that she could slip in, eyes trained to scan the area first before fully entering. And then, she sought for the counter, taking in a subtle breath. Showtime.

“Good morning,” Roxy spoke in a formal tone, pleasant. “I’m looking for a Joseph Matthews? I’m scheduled for an interview.”

[avaitor]

james spencer i love you with all of my heart

also finally finished a percilot piece 💪💪💪😭

also have some lil guys

[hjbirthdaywishes]

March 20, 2024

Happy 42 Birthday to Nick Blood.

[authorpendragging]

I spent way too long making this instead of doing anything productive. Please give it some love it’s a feral creation.

[northpolardog]

deaths that i feel lowkey made the show a lil worse bc of how amazing the character is: triplett(agents of shield), lancelot(merlin),

[kissthebridee]

my favorite lesbian (real!)

[evedaser]

it was definitely lancelots idea merlin could not keep that shit eating grin off his face

do you know in the darkest hour part 2 when lancelot and merlin went back to the knights and arthur but lancelot walked in first solely to give arthur a panic attack that merlin was dead, only to have merlin walked up five seconds later?? what assholes. what honest to god jerks. i love it. they literally planned that out. they stood outside that ruined castle, about to walk in together, but then one of them was like “wait wait wait, hang on. dude. i got an idea. everyone will go crazy.” and i am willing to bet all the money i have on this earth that it was lancelot’s idea

[letters2fiction]

(to lancelot again) hey, i’m sorry, but as a person with adhd, you just sort of give off the vibes! also that really wasn’t meant to be an actual insult, i’m sorry it came off that way :{ pls maybe don’t report me to arthur? would be uh… would be much appreciated… ^^””

Oh -- well -- Then apology accepted. Didn't know you have adhd.

I'll let it go then, Arthur doesn't need to know, sorry for blowing up on you like that kid.

-Lance

[rcxylancelct-mcrtcn]

@xchxsingcxrsx

"We're looking for a man called Sebastian Greene. He traces back to 2020. Only recently unearthed, when the Prime Minister’s own assets were swindled.”

Lancelot waited for something—anything—to be shown on the framed projector in Kingsman's meeting hall, any semblance of their target, as the lack of a proper image would prove a difficult start to the mission. So when the screen only showed a generic, written character description, she was stumped; how well would she be able to single-out their target without a) making a mistake or b) wasting so much time?

"Our target is verified to be British, somewhere in the odd 40s to 50s. Reports say they would be a dark-haired man, grey-blue eyes, and is reported to reside here in London."

Still, a lead was a lead, and when the assignment was passed on to her, she needed to make sure of the circumstances.

"Yes, Arthur." Roxanne adjusted from her seat. "Do we have an idea of his whereabouts in the coming fortnight?"

"Negative. But there is a rise of criminal cases in Westminster as of late; the chances of our guy using this to his advantage may be highly likely."

She nodded at Arthur's command and worked for her preparations with Merlin, immediately embarking on her nightly activity of scouting the area for this… generic… British man.

The lack of activity when she began her stake-outs was monotonous enough, almost placing her in a routine walk in a routine street in a routine hour, but in the succeeding evenings she noticed a familiar figure pass by at around the exact same time, every time, so much so that when they failed to pass by at the anticipated hour one night, she grew suspicion. Nobody really walks this part of the street, and, at least one of three indicated characteristics matched. Perhaps something about routine, something subconscious, just makes you pick the odd one out when it presents itself. That and guts… well, it’s not like she had much on her arsenal; she had to make the risk.

With that, she was high on alert, and when the familiar figure finally strolled past her usual path of sight, she went to move, hand gripping the pistol inside her coat, ready to fire at the opportune moment. Roxanne walked in long strides, and, upon turning the corner where she assumed they were alone, cocked the gun and pointed it at them, perhaps enough to have them stop at their tracks.

“I’d stop if I were you,” she called out, already moving their direction.

[a-leg-without-fear]

Entre, Rouge🩸🔥

this is very silly

Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader 🩸

Rating: 18+

Wordcount: 666

Warnings: story is told from Wade's perspective. need i say more?

Phew!

Okay, that last Wolverine didn’t quite work out. Several stab wounds in the shape of adamantium kebabs aside, I just wasn’t a fan of his vibe. The puffy hair, the leather ensemble, and the missing hand? No thank you. I’d like an intact Wolverine with access to a shower and a hairbrush to help repair my universe.

I sat on the log I once shared with the extremely-departed Logan. Lots of blood and guts spilled everywhere, pieces of TVA agents and metal bones strewn about the snow, thick snowflakes falling through the naked trees and onto my illustrious red suit.

Oh, I should probably introduce myself.

The name’s Wilson. 

Wade Wilson. 

Wade Winston Wilson. 

Doctor… Esquire. 

Also known as the ever sexy and permanently alive Deadpool. Sure, I look like the gum-covered underside of a highschool desk, but it doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop in my quest to fix my universe and save my friends. Like Lancelot and his Holy Grail, I’m going to find a Logan and shove him into my timeline until he fits. Or do whatever happens in that story.

The little dimension doohickey I nabbed from discount Mr.Darcy sat in my gloved hand. Lots of retro graphics and shiny buttons made it look like a flip phone, but fancier. I was scrolling through universes to try and find my next target.

“420? No, I don’t think I want pothead Logan. 69? Now that’s just too obvious,” I muttered with a laugh while flipping through universes. The numbers scrolled by like etch-a-sketched fruit in a slot machine. Except without the pants-tightening excitement of winning a jackpot.

My yearning for walking through rows of old geezers sitting in their own piss puddles while mindlessly playing the slots was overtaken by a fascination in the universe that filled the screen. Confetti exploded in my head like an edged bottom who’d held out as long as he could.

“Bingo!” I said, jumping up from my spot on the crumbling log. My fabulous boots made a nice crunching sound as I walked through blood-stained snow.

Earth-80085.

The Legiverse.

A universe filled to the brim with horror, trauma, copious sex scenes, and hyperfixations switching faster than Nosferatu fiddling with his light switch. You know the one.

I jammed the “go” button on the doohickey and a huge portal appeared in front of me. Orange, glowey, translucent, door shaped. Kinda looked like jello if you squinted.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” I asked myself, naïvely, “I’ll get burst like a blood-filled water balloon by Leg’s OC of the week? Nah, she wouldn’t do me like that.”

Taking in one last chilly breath of determination, I skipped through the portal.

What I was not expecting to step into was a bedroom.

Pale green curtains blocking out any sunlight, wooden walls with cutesy pictures, cat towers and toys scattered on the carpeted floor. And…

Is that… moaning?

My head whipped in the direction of that delicious sound. Rumpled and soaked sheets, wooden headboard slamming into the wall behind it, bed creaking under the rapid movement.

And there, tangled together in the way God definitely didn’t intend, were you and Logan. Him driving into you, toned abs flexing with each thrust and fluffy hair bouncing, with you squirming and moaning beneath him. Logan’s rough hands felt along your lucky hips.

“Damn,” I whispered. Why did you get to have all the fun? Can’t I get a little Lo-Lo action?

I hung my head, disappointed, as I pressed the “leave” button on the doohickey. It wasn’t fair! Readers get to fuck whoever they want, however they want, whenever they want. They even fuck me on a regular basis! And where does that leave poor Deadpool? Either in another fanfiction or taking care of myself the ol’ fashioned way.

Ignoring the growing discomfort in my rather-flattering pants, I stepped back through the stupid doorway to continue my search.

Why are all the good ones fucking, crucified, killing me, or Henry Cavill?

i got drunk and watched the third "night at the museum." this popped in my head while watching hugh be a silly man

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