#damn it was dinadan

[tiodolma]

Dinadan was so angry that Lancelot was so angry at King Mark so he composed a song about how shitty King Mark was. Dinadan then taught it to a harper who taught the song to everyone else.

[ofglories]

After a certain incident involving an exceptionally massive bird dangling Arthur by the back of his clothes over a cliff, it's fair to say Arthur developed a certain...caution in regards to birds.

And cliffs.

But mainly birds.

It's not so much a fear, not really. But he's definitely wary around birds that look large enough to grab a grown man. Helpfully these are few and far in-between but still! There's also the unpleasant memory of several of his knights deciding the best way to handle the situation was to make a pile of clothes to catch him instead of anything else on top of that...

[gawrkin]

If you know where to look, a lot of characters in Arthuriana can be, are or implied to be sorcerers/Magic-users.

To put it another way, had Sir Dinadan been written by the Welsh or the Irish, King Mark would probably be dead a hundred times over from the force of Dinadan's songs.

"A strong warrior merely kills you. A good poet will damn you, your identity and your legacy forever until the end of time"

[sweethyune]

The taste of your lips. (series - chapter three)

— pairing : hyunjin dancer x f!reader dancer

— warnings : the story includes fiction, a lot of cursing, violence, hyunjin is very rude :,), anger issues, dirty talking, choking.. please let me know if i forgot something!

— also please keep in mind that english isn't my native language! ^^

— word count : 1,5 k

— there are reader's povs, hyunjin's povs

— READER'S NAME IS WINTER ICE!

Chapter three - "Do you like me this much Sam?"

Winter Ice.

You were standing in front of your mirror at home and you were rummaging through your closet for half an hour, just to choose something to wear, on the very first day of school. In freshman year, you use to wear formal clothes, because you didn't really need to dress up. In sophomore year, you wore a longer black dress that ended just below your knees. But what now? That was the question you've been asking yourself.

You sighed and threw on a white shirt that you tucked into a black skirt that you took on, which ended just a little bit below your butt. To top it all off, you threw on ten-centimeter black heels.

Was it too much? Maybe. Did it bother you? Absolutelly not. At the end of the day you are four feet and nine inches so you had quite a big problem with people, because you usually became someone's carpet. This way, you could avoid someone stepping on you.

And with those heels on, you can't just overlook someone who is five feet and ten inches tall.. and has perhaps the most annoying face you have ever seen in your life. You were angry again. Just thinking about that gothic bastard made your fists clench on their own. You took your bag, got into the car and drove to school.

You didn't even realize that this and next year are the last years, you'd be in this school and then, you're going to work. Crazy. You are now in third grade but.. how did the time fly so fast? It's not like you were rolling on the couch during the holidays, you had three part-time jobs at the same time to earn some extra money, which could always come in handy.

You spent money on clothes and make-up, because it was something like an aid for school. You had to go to the performances dressed up nicely from head to toe. It also had weight on the grade. At Dinadan, you had to know more than how to dance.

You had to look a certain way, be able to memorize all the ballroom dances and be punctual. You had to have a good character, be able to communicate in ways other than words. Our body has always been able to speak for us but.. can you read body language?

Do you know what it means when a person has their arms crossed on their chest? Do you know how a person feels, when they cross their legs? You had to be smart to get to Dinadan. This wasn't just another overpriced school, this is one of the best dance schools in the world. The school where you're going daily for past two years.

When you arrived at the place, you pulled into the parking lot and hit your hand on the steering wheel. Fuck. The entire parking lot was taken. Except for one place.. and when you wanted to park there, you almost hit a black Mustang, which came there in that moment and parked in YOUR spot. You angrily got out of the car and waited for an explanation from the moron, who allowed themselves to do this.

But at that damn moment, that bastard, that you hate so much, got out of the car and you knew you weren't definitely in the mood to talk to him for today. „Get into your cheap car and get out of my way. Get away yourself away from my sight." He stood in front of you amused in all his "perfection".

“Get out of here and maybe i won't scratch your eyes out." you smiled innocently at him. You were pissed, because you were already late for school.

„Shut the fuck up.” he growled without even looking at you, his face pissed off as always. He walked away not forgetting to elbow your shoulder as he passed. That fucking piece of shit.

Hwang Samuel Hyunjin

I didn't sleep all night. Molly drove up to see me yesterday and then we did it three times in her car. The fact that i had two scratches from her on my back from her claws pissed me off. I probably wasn't soft to her, but that doesn't mean i'm going to have her marks all over my body. I guess not really. I already had a warning light going on in my head to never fuck Kim Molly again.

I finally got up and went to school. That's right, at two in the morning. I changed into a black tank top, gray sweatpants and finally relaxed as i began to sway to the music. I danced until about a quarter to seven and then went home to shower and change. I had to dance out all the stress and anger because everything that was going on around me was like a spiral of shit from which there was no escape.

I don't even know why the fact that this is already one of the last two years that i will be studying here pissed me off. Maybe i felt her presence here and that's probably why i wasn't ready to leave. She was here, in all the photos and on half the trophies the school won. She was beautiful and i looked at her every time i have passed by the fame board. All the teachers here knew her, some even taught her.

„Good morning." Minho sat down next to me and threw a burger at me. I was sitting in the dining room, planning to buy some food from the buffet, but i guess i don't have to anymore. „Hello." I mumbled. „Where's the dog?" I arched an eyebrow and glared at Minho. He looked so pissed off. „Shitting" He snapped and i smirked. Of course he is. What else could Seungmin do in the morning?

I got up and left him with a nod. I turned around and headed to my locker where i grabbed my gym bag. I threw one pair of sweatpants in, shorts, two tank tops and the burger with bottle of water inside. I put my gym bag on my back and suddenly watched as Winter Ice appeared not far away from me.

Rage. I felt angry again. I quite enjoyed watching her in the morning as she tried to park somewhere and ended up parking the car into the janitor's parking spot. I smirked. The boys from several classes appeared next to me and i leaned my elbow on the locker. "Hey you blue viper." I yelled at her, my smirk deepening as she spun around to face me.

Winter Ice

„Hey you blue viper." You heard a voice that made all the hairs on your body stand up. That fucking bastard. „How many guys are you going to fuck today? Or did you get all dressed up for me? Want me to fuck you this much?" He appeared in front of you and licked his lips. You balled your hands into fists, anger seeping through you. You scoffed and raised your hand to hit him.

But you were stopped by his hands, which grabbed your wrist. He pushed you and pressed you against the locker behind you. You looked up at him with your head held high and watched his pissed off expression. He gritted his teeth.. and he was definitely thinking of killing you in hundred different ways.

„Don't even think about doing such a thing." He growled. „You're just a little whore that nobody cares about. You can't be compared not even to a dog." He spluttered and you just smiled. „Do you like me that much Sam? So much so that you have to hold me like this, pressing your crotch against me? You're pathetic if you think that i could ever want you that way.” You smiled cheekily, teasing him. Knowing exactly how much you were annoying him at the moment. But you weren't lying anyway, his body was pressed all against yours. Maybe it wasn't his intention but you felt happy with the thought, that you could piss him off even more.

„What? Does fucking others no longer satisfy you? Are you having problems with your prostate?" You chuckled and wanted to continue, but just then he grabbed you by the neck and squeezed it hard in his hand. „You're dead, you tiny chump." He growled and you suddenly felt tears welling up in your eyes from the lack of oxygen.

„That's what you said in freshman year and i'm still alive." You gave him a cheeky smile and a growl came out of his mouth. If he thinks he can control you, he's fucking wrong. And just then it stopped because you two heard Mrs. Young's voice.

„Mister Hwang and miss Ice to the principal's office. IMMIDIATELY."

masterlist

[phantom-vs-agents]

L’Morte d’Dinadan

(TW: Blood)

Dinadan ached. 

Having bested the evil knight Brehu a few days ago, he once again found himself going to make another speech about how the King of Cornwall was, once again, unfit for the throne. 

“Of course,” Dinadan, antennae warbling in the wind from frustration, spoke aloud to himself, “The most I’ll get is another lecturing about how change continues slowly, apace. Honestly, you’d think someone with as much power as the King of the Bloody Round Table would realize the damn power he was sitting on. Perhaps he sat on Excalibur.” The Roach gave a chortle at the mental image of his King sitting on the rather uncomfortable object.

Despite his complaints, Dinadan was as loyal as any man in the Round Table. Should Arthur command it, he would willingly lay his life on the line. Though, in the case of Arthur, he wished he didn’t have to do it so damn frequently. I mean,  is there any harm in a break every now and again?

As he grumbled to himself about his conditions, he couldn’t help but detect the sound of hoofbeats that weren’t his own in the distance. Antennae stood up as he saw two horses appear over the horizon, walking down the path he was travelling. 

Well, he thought, I guess I won’t have to commiserate by myself. I can not well and truly throw a pity party. Dinadan joked, as the two horsemen began to approach. Of course, his hopes of having someone to talk to were dashed when he saw that it was Mordred and Agravain- Two of the most humorless bastards this side of Camelot. He supposed that it was better than no one, though. Stopping his horse, Scuttle quickly dismounted, Mordred and the other doing the same.

“Well well, when it rains, does it pour. Hail, Mordred,” Dinadan waved, as Mordred approached, “What can Dinadan do for-” Sharp, shooting pain erupted from the Knight’s gut. Looking down, he saw that the fellow knight had lodged a knife directly into his stomach. With a twist, Dinadan slouched forward slightly, his wings flitting out in a useless attempt to fly, perhaps away from this situation. Antennae droop forward as Mordred pulled the knife out- 

Another explosion of pain wracked his body as Agravain stabbed in his upper belly. Blood was starting to soak the Roach’s gambeson as he staggered forward, no longer supported by the weight of Mordred. Falling to his knees, Mordred delivered one final stab directly to his back, pulling the blade out quicker this time. 

Breath seemed to no longer find the Roach as he stared ahead on the path. Red discoloring the suit of armor and gambeson he wore as his eyes became unfocused. The sound of hoofbeats started up as his attackers- Those he trusted- Began to ride off. 

Dinadan hit the ground on his shoulder, the world becoming blurry.

In his last moments of consciousness, the Knight was confused.

[mr-snailman]

my favorite knights of the round table:

Gawain (note that I still haven’t seen the dev patel movie ;-;) because older siblings gotta stick together, because he’s brave and loyal and true but also short-tempered and so very human, because he strives for perfection but has to settle for good enough, because depending on how you interpret a thousand years of varying canon he’s camelot’s #1 Women Supporter, because he’s half-desi TO ME and that’s the greatest honor I can bestow <3

Kay, because he’s mean and sarcastic and rude but your honor I love him, because he was once arthur’s greatest warrior, because his father blessed him with hands that are always hot and a heart that is always cold, because his cynicism allows arthur’s idealism to flourish, because somebody has to take care of the castle, because he made a really great detective that one time

Dinadan, because he’s funny and because he has no patience for courtly love and jousting, because he’s practical and sensible, because he loves his friends enough to fight for them even when it’s not the practical or sensible thing to do, because he was, apparently, the kendrick lamar of wales and cornwall

Palamedes because it’s not fucking easy to be brown and an immigrant, because he cares deeply for his friends but doesn’t take their shit, because he’s always after that damn giraffe

[amandasannoying]

@badsalmonella ask and ye shall receive, here’s the smallest snippet of WWI AU:

The gun didn’t move from her face.

“Parlez vous anglaise?” A deep voice asked behind the weapon.

Really? The question was so ridiculous, she almost laughed, almost broke through her nerves and the strangling apprehension. “Yes, I speak English, you damned fool.”

A lantern swung before her like a fireball, the sudden flash of light hurting her eyes, but she kept her focused straight ahead- kept the knife pointed at the men in front of her.

“Sir!” A different, English voice exclaimed, “She is a lady!”

Backwards went the lantern, another moment of darkness.

The pistol disappeared.

“I can bloody well hear that, Dinadan.”

The light enveloped her again—

And the light brought him into the fold.

She stared into the bluest eyes she’d ever seen— or maybe they were grey, or a mix, like mornings here in the countryside, a sheer layer of fog hanging over the grass, filtering through the blue dawn. Something she’d seen before, something familiar. How were they so soft in the harsh lantern light?

His face was filthy, his cheeks caked with dirt, streaks of smoke spread all the way to his forehead. Fringes of dirty, brown hair hung in front of his eyes. Was that blood? Oh, Good God, was that blood on his face? She inhaled sharply.

Calm yourself, Guinevere.

“I assume, because of my sex, I do not have to lower my weapon.” She feigned a hiss.

His eyes were wide. He held out a gloved, empty hand, looking down at her. “If- if you would kindly do so, please, Madame.”

“No.” She replied steely, “Not yet.”

As if a hunting knife- an old hunting knife- was anything compared to a rifle, or a German grapeshot.

“Alright,” he said. He spoke too slowly, as if he were still uncertain that she understood him. “What if I tell you my name?”

“A name isn’t convincing enough.”

“I’ll give it to you anyway: Captain Arthur Pendragon, Welsh Fusiliers, 23rd regiment of Foot.”

All that meant was that he was English.

He was her “ally.”

What a way to welcome a truce, she thought.

Haven’t written anything for myself in weeks but I’m tired and in need of sharing so do you guys want a library fic snippet or me putting guenarthur in WWI?

[tillman]

heres MY favorite bizarre arthurian facts to drop on people who dont know much about it cus rey isnt the only one with weird facts

tristan has a named bow. its name is failnaught. it is not magic. he made it himself.

lancelots son is named after his dead boyfriend

tristan lived a brief stint as a pirate as a kid. not to detract from gawain also doing this.

tristan hates chess and birds so much like so much that he damns the concept of both (this is because of the pirates) 

dinadan is the medieval version of italian american

hector de maris hunts whales

lancelot and tristan have a secret handshake

guenevere has tripped arthur in the middle of court at least once

king mark commits an actual homophobic hatecrime

gawain spent time as a bartender in france

isolde (the blond) and isolde (of britain) are not related but isolde (the blond) and isolde (the queen) and isolde (the young) are

isolde the blond and tristan have a made up language only they know that involves bird sounds and hand signals. 

yvain has the power to turn into a lion (this is why its called knight of the lion)

gawain has a pet goat

camelot in most tales is actually located in poland (arthur himself being polish.)

[ofglories]

Honestly the whole Grail Quest situation is hilarious on this blog because Arthur's a pagan, the Orkneys are pagans, Dinadan's *atheist*, Marrok's a faerie wolf, Emrys went from being Roman pagan to welsh pagan, Uther's still *very* Roman pagan, Ector doesn't care enough to give word to what he may believe, and Taliesin is a god and the literal physical embodiment of wisdom.

Meanwhile Bors, Lancelot, Percival (sorta), and Claudas are all very very early Christians.

And Palamedes is off there being a Saracen.

And not a single person actually cares about the Grail but Bors is compelled by literally big G god to go on the quest because destiny. Also from the legends themselves Bors is guided by angels both in his sleep and as he's awake, has miracles happen to save him repeatedly, the demons of hell are working overtime to try to get specifically his soul for some reason (maybe they think he's pretty), and god himself speaks directly to Bors multiple times. Like damn.

All while Arthur bangs his head against the Round Table wondering why the stupid dinky little cup is so appealing.

[teecupangel]

Desmond saving people he didn’t even know that would make an impact with history. The Hidden Ones being created as a way to be like Khemu’s savior, an unknown man clad in white, face covered by a hood and the hidden blade. Aya realizing that that man is the same man she grew up hearing stories about. About the man who saved Greece from the clutches of a cult that had tried to rip apart the family of one of her ancestors.

Yeesss, small acts that keep piling up and leading to this mythology/religion around and about him. He’s the first to be called the Hidden One and some of the current mythology gets added to his legend and that’s the reason why Desmond didn’t notice it at first. The truth was now being embellished by exagerations and other legends.

I think if you were going to write this, Shaun learning about him would give you more leeway as it means you can also add in anything Desmond does during after Shay’s time. But Shaun’s first accounts of Desmond would come from the journals that Shay kept and it would be written like Shaun reading Shay’s journals about how he’s on a journey to find Desmond.

OG!Arthur ending up becoming the actual real Lancelot, only this time there’s no love triangle, he just developed a ‘knightly’ crush on Desmond. Guinevere ends up being the woman Desmond put in charge because he isn’t going to stay and rule, that’s not retiring, that’s getting a new job, damn it! In this scenario, considering Merlin’s connection to the Sword of Eden and having ‘magical’ powers, I’m pretty sure he’s meant to either be a Templar or a Sage (probably) but he could be similar to Jacques de Molay who kept his personality but received the Isu’s memories. In this case, he would be trying to get Desmond to actually be the king because he’s the chosen one and that means he has a responsibility- “Okay, Imma stop you there, buddy. I already did my ‘responsibility’. I fucking died for the world once and if the world needs me to hold its hands the entire day or it goes kaput? Maybe you shouldn’t be telling me to take ‘responsibility’ but maybe the world is the world itself, huh? Ever think of that?”

So Merlin is going to end up as the resigned powerful old man who has to deal with the capriciousness of his timehoping king. Thank God Guinevere is a competent ruler. It helps that whenever Desmond does stay for a bit, he does make everyone’s life better and leaves enough notes and words that makes other people ponder on what he means. He’s not being cryptic, he just keep thinking people would understand him but he uses words that hasn’t been invented yet or meant a different thing in the current language. Some would make Mordred Arthur’s nephew and that could be true as well (or Arthur did sire Mordred and, because he’s not the king, he gets raised Mordred who grows up happy and loved this time around). Morgaine becomes Guinevere’s BFF (Desmond introduced them ‘cause he saw Morgraine and knew she needed a place that would appreciate and respect her) and Morgaine and Merlin butts head a lot but they have Camelot’s (and the whole Albion’s) best interest at heart. Morgaine became more into medical advancement because of her talk with Desmond though while Merlin helps out… sometimes… The round table would be… more eccentric. Like, take the main members of the round table but add in something different. Like, not many stories focus on Dinadan but I think his penchant of calling bullshit when he sees it would make Desmond like him more than the other chivalrous ‘uptight’ knights. Also, you can add in a more brotherly relationship between Kay and Arthur, maybe include how Kay is overprotective of Arthur now that he’s a knight and the fact that Arthur didn’t become the king meant that there’s no real wall between Kay and Arthur so they could continue to act like they were brothers. Hell, Arthur can be known more as Arthur, Brother of Kay, than Arthur Pendragon.

(6:46pm) Been thinking about this all day yesterday but Desmond who after the flair decides he wants take his chance at choosing what he can do for once and chooses to backpack across the world. Now this can even be more interesting if he does so while going through time since the ancestors and other assassin's are all over the world or if he did it after being transfered to another world. I imagine this decision was based on the fact that Desmond is used to having to be in the run a lot but this way if he manages to make everyone forget him after the flair, he could easily go see the rest of the world.

Desmond has the skills to do it too. With what he got from the Bleeding Effect and his training as an Assassin + nine years staying out of sight from both organizations, he could totally be successful in (illegally) backpacking across the world.

He doesn’t even need to work to pay for stuff. His Eagle Vision can be used to find hiding spots he could sleep in (maybe he’ll even score and find a vacant house with working water and a fluffy bed) and anyone that pings as red to him would mean he could nick their wallets and belongings without feeling any guilt. And, hey, if they turn out to be a very bad ‘the-law-can’t-judge-me’ person, Desmond knows 3 to 4 (maybe even 5) person-worth of ways to kill someone… After taking their cash and anything he can use that won’t get traced back to him, of course.

Whether his world or if he gets thrown into another world, Desmond’s goal is the same.

He just wants to see the world with his own eyes.

Not thru the memories of his ancestors.

Not thru the words and images given to him by people who know more about the world than he does.

He wanted to experience the world he saved.

Sometimes, perhaps those who are doing the right thing would get his attention and his assistance but only for a while. He will refuse any requests or demands to join any organizations or persons.

He had enough being a soldier.

Of being used by those who believe they know what must be done to ‘save’ the world.

Desmond had enough of all of that.

He’ll become a wandering ghost that no one could find.

Even if someone or something gets lucky, he’ll just find a way to slip away sooner or later. He cannot be contained.

He refused to be contained.

To Desmond?

This is just his retirement.

[oddnub-eye]

Mythology Drabbles #27

@whatissleepeven since I know you like these

Did someone say more Mordred? I heard more Mordred.

Disclaimer: Some of these drabbles are not presented entirely accurately to the source material they are drawn from. They are not meant to be entirely accurate. That being said, I hope you enjoy, and constructive criticism is always welcomed and encouraged.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

This is What I’m Supposed to Do

Camelot was burning. Oh was Camelot burning. The black clad knight practically skipped through the burning city, black sword flashing in his hands. Little giggles cracked his smirk from time to time, civilians ducking out of his way.

Mordred had never felt as alive as he did in this moment. He was bursting with life, bursting with...joy wasn’t the right word. Mordred wasn’t happy. But he convinced himself he was, so he smiled and lit another building on fire, enjoying watching the city his father had dedicated his life to burning around him.

Some of the lowlives that Arthur had allowed into his court had tried to stop him.

Marrock, that knight who could take the form of a wolf, was the only one Mordred recognized.

A deep part of Mordred’s mind detested that he referred to him as a lowlife, and kept a quip about mounting his head from being spoken as Mordred sunk Clarent’s blade into his former ally’s chest.

Mordred didn’t understand that part of himself...no, he hated that part of himself. He was King Arthur’s bastard son, Mordred Pendragon! He was the crack in the purity of King Arthur’s reign, he was the poisoned arrow that would destroy Camelot! He should be unashamed, unwavering, enjoying this moment.

So Mordred through his head back and laughed, taking in the smell of smoke and terror as the citizens of Camelot cried in terror and sorrow.

“Behold Citizens of Camelot!” Mordred bellowed, “I am Mordred Pendragon! Rightful heir to the throne of King Arthur! Bow to me now, and you may not be devoured by my flames!”

Most of the citizens bowed before Mordred. Dinadan and Marrock’s families didn’t. Mordred couldn’t remember if he burned, hung, and sliced them.

“Why am I doing this?” Mordred lamented, sitting on the throne in the Castle.

“Because your life had a pitiable beginning, and you’re leading yourself to a pitiable end.”

Mordred snapped his head up, seeing Dinadan sprawled out on the Round Table.

“I killed you. I don’t need a ghost’s pity.”

“I wouldn’t give my pity to my killer, I have standards, bastard.”

Mordred snarled at the word’s double meaning.

“My life isn’t pitiable,” Mordred sneered, “I was born for the purpose I’m now fulfilling.”

Dinadan’s ghost leapt from the table, walking to stand in front of Mordred.

“Do you find joy in your current path? Do you find joy in the destiny you’ve assigned yourself?”

“W-what!?”

“Answer the question, Knight of the Black Flame.” Dinadan prodded, referring to Mordred by the title Dinadan had given him. The name brought back some small happy memories. Of tournaments, of friendly battle with his fellow knights. Dinadan bowing out of tournaments to serve as Mordred’s personal announcer. The playful taunts on the rare opportunities the duo did compete against each other. Of Mordred admiring Lancelot and Gawain, consistent prescenses in late stages of tournaments. Taking the piss out of Agravain for his brooding, cheering on Gareth as they fought.

Did this killing and burning bring Mordred the same joy? This was his purpose wasn’t it? So…

“Of course it brings me joy you damned jester!” Mordred shouted, before standing abruptly and walking past Dinadan’s ghost, who faded back into the afterlife.

                                                           …

The battlefield was filled with fire and blood. Mordred loved it.The feeling of swords clashing, of armor breaking beneath his swings.

Did Mordred love it?

He liked fighting, and he knew that a knight needed to kill...but something felt wrong.

But he was born to do this, so he was going to do this!

Mordred finally came across Arthur, the two doing battle. And then...IT HAPPENED! Mordred knocked Excalibur from Arthur’s hands, and then plunged Clarent into Arthur.

Mordred did it...HE WON! HE WON! HE WON! HE WON! HE WON!

Mordred turned, laughing. HE WON! Camelot was his! Arthur was destroyed! He’d won.

Mordred heard a noise behind him, turning just in time for Arthur to spear him through the chest, the lance Rhongomyniad crashing through Mordred’s armor, his flames, his skin, his heart. Mordred’s lifeblood pooled around the lance.

Clarent fell from Mordred’s hands and the black flames slowly disappeared from the battlefield.

“I...I didn’t win,” Mordred stuttered, tears not even able to well in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t able...to be there more for you.” Arthur rasped, “I know it means nothing, but I wanted it off my chest before I die.”

“Shut…” Mordred attempted to murmur, but the tears were finally able to come.

Mordred failed what he believed his life’s purpose was. But he didn't despise that fact.

Because just for that one moment, that one moment before the darkness came to the Knight of Black Flames, Mordred was able to imagine and remember; remember the times when he battle evils with the Round Table, remember the tournaments that brought him such joy, and imagine a world where that never had to end.

Mordred smiled as the last of the flames withered to sparks.

[charonsbudgetpsychopomp]

The Knights of the Round Table when yhe 5AM alarm goes off:

Arthur: "This is treason."

Kay: *already awake and working*

Lancelot: *launches into an overly dramatic lamet for lost sleep*

Gawain: *breaks the clock, nevermind that it was his phone*

Bors: *muffled grunting and slow, still-mostly-asleep shuffling*

Agravain: "Damn this alarm and damn whoever thought this was a good idea."

Dinadan: *unleashes a string of curses but is on his feet and ready to roll anyways*

Galahad: *gets up three minutes before his alarm*

Mordred: *did not set his alarm*

[tsukiya-hoshimiya]

Oh good lord, someone please end me-

Alright alright, note that the notes around him may have been changed since I’ve done the voice lines for him already and that I might tweak his design, so we good to go for now then? Maybe but damn I felt like digging my hole of embarrassment and stay there for eternity

Looks like I caved in and decided to... Just make a fan servant I guess? That ended up with my friends questioning why I suddenly love him like how much I love my characters apparently, whoops.

I swear I’ll make a full ref on him with colors, just that I’ll let the fact that I’m posting this sink in my soul, then screech about it mentally!

Meet Dinadan, one of the Knights of The Round Table! He may be summoned as a Saber class but it seems like the most suitable class for him is a Lancer due to his skills in jousting.

He is a knight with a sense of humor and practicality, not minding if he was being made the target of the jokes as well as absolutely making fun of anyone in general, and not rushing in to danger until he has full grasp of understanding on the situation for chance of success and to know he is going to the right side. He is also friendly, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t make enemies because of his nature that may be also perceived as darkly critical and as someone who struggles bitterly against any form of love. It just depends on how someone sees him to be honest.

Despite that, he is rather insecure of himself since he isn’t that impressive like the other knights (*insert any knights with lotsa well known legends here*), though he doesn’t let it show as much as possible unless he has close bonds to anyone else.

That’s all for now, see ya while I descend to my hole of embarrassment!

[modreduscycle]

Green Knight Pt. 2

Gawain stared out at the snow blowing outside. For some reason, the thought of going out in it didn’t bother him. It was probably the last snowfall he’d get to see.

It had been a good year, tournaments, quests, hunting, and just the general mayhem of the round table had kept him occupied. He wondered if heaven would have any of those things.

Gareth helped adjust his fur cloak, sniffling. “Don’t go, please don’t go,” he begged.

Gawain smiled sadly and ruffled his hair. “You know I have to. Hey, look at me.” He lifted Gareth’s chin up. “Be good, okay? Or I’ll come back to life just to kick your ass. That goes for all of you.”

Mordred rolled his eyes. “If you are still alive after all this, come back immediately. Don’t let us worry for longer than we need to.”

Agravaine glared bloody murder at his little brother. “If he survives getting his head chopped off?” he demanded incredulously.

“Did Aunt Morgana ever figure out something?” Gawain asked. Mordred had written to her earlier in the year, asking for help. He’d put it off until the last week of summer due to his usual reluctance of involving Morgana’s “assistance” with their problems, considering how overboard her solutions tended to be. Mordred hadn’t said anything about her response earlier, which didn’t bode well, but he could still hope.

Mordred let out a heavy sigh. “Yes and no. It’s… Goddamn it, it’s so stupid.” He rubbed his temples and sighed again. “Look, I told her I wouldn’t tell you what she’s doing so just… just act like you usually do.”

“When were you going to bring this up?” Gaheris demanded.

“I’ll tell the three of you everything two seconds after he leaves. I just can’t tell him,” Mordred explained, not answering his brother’s question.

“So… then Agravaine and Laurel don’t have to start trying to make an heir?” Gareth asked. Agravaine smacked him over the head with a closed fist. “OW! What? If Gawain dies, you’re next in line!”

“Laurel and I are not having sex, period,” Agravaine snapped. The other four fell silent and stared at him for a full minute. “What?”

“What about on your wedding night?” Gawain asked.

“You do remember our marriage was purely for convenience, right?” Agravaine asked.

“So you have never consummated your marriage?” Gaheris demanded.

“My wife likes men in exactly the same way Aunt Morgana does. Trust me, it would not be fun for either of us,” Agravaine deadpanned. He shrugged. “Besides, it’s not like anyone can prove we didn’t.”

“Then you’re a virgin?” Gareth piped up.

Agravaine’s face turned red. “Why are we talking about this? Gawain’s about to die!”

“But Mordred implied he might not,” Gareth piped up, grinning. “So let’s talk more about your love life.”

“Shut up, you brat! How many girls were you getting serving in the kitchens?” Agravaine snapped.

“Try saying that to Uncle Kay’s face, see how that goes,” Gareth retorted.

“Uncle Kay doesn’t care, he’s less into romance than freaking Dinadan, and that’s saying something.”

Mordred shook his head and pulled Gawain into a hug. “I am so sorry for not telling you what’s about to happen. And I am so, so sorry our entire family is so goddamned stupid.”

Gawain snorted and pulled the rest of his siblings into the hug as well. “Be good you four and if I don’t come back… well, you can tell me about everything you get up to when we meet in heaven. A long, long, long time in the future.”

“Considering our family history of violent death, that’s not likely,” Gaheris pointed out dryly.

“If I die and I see you again within ten years, start running,” Gawain warned. He shook his head. “This was supposed to be touching, goddamn it. You’ve all ruined it.”

“Well, let’s fix that.” Gaheris hugged his brother one more time before stepping away like the others. “You are the best older brother I’ve ever had, and I will never forget you.”

“Hey!”

“I meant what I said, Agravaine.”

Gareth rubbed the back of his neck, looking away as he tried to keep from crying. “I wish we could’ve been knights together for longer. I’ll make you proud, Gawain, I swear it.”

Gawain barely held back a sob as he pulled Gareth in for another hug. “You already have.”

Agravaine looked at the ground. “I…” He clenched his fists. “You’re the best big brother any of us could ever have and I hate that you’re throwing your life away on some stupid game but you’re my older brother and you’ve always looked out for me and I love you.”

They all stared at him. “Holy shit,” Gareth muttered.

“No one say a damn word about this,” Agravaine warned. “Mordred, say your goodbyes, then get the hell out of here, Gawain.”

“Yeah, I’m good. You have fun, try not to freeze to death on the way. I’m going to help Merlin with his research,” Mordred said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder and backing away.

“I… alright,” Gawain replied lamely. He assumed Mordred’s reaction was because of whatever Aunt Morgana told him, but he could not think of anything that she could say that would make Mordred this lax about it. “Well, bye.” With that, he stepped out into the snow and mounted the waiting Gringolet. He’d have to ask the Green Knight to take care of him after he was dead. He was such a sweet horse, regardless of what Agravaine, Gaheris, Gareth, Mordred, Arthur, Kay, Lancelot, Bedivere, Percival, Tristram, Galehaut, Dinadan, Bors, Lamorak, and Palamedes said. Even with how capable Gringolet was, Gawain wasn’t sure if he’d make it in the wild. With a heavy heart, he set out.

….

Mordred had a point about him being stupidly lovestruck, Gawain had to admit. Maybe if he hadn’t been so smitten, he would’ve remembered to ask for bloody directions! He had learned from locals on his way the general direction, thank God, but that didn’t help now when he was lost in the middle of the woods, snow was flying around him, his hands were freezing even in his fur gloves, and Gringolet was tired and shivering. At this rate, he’d end up missing the Christmas deadline not through his own fault, but because of his shit sense of direction.

He winced as a gust of wind blew flakes into his face, showering his hair and freezing his face. Snow blew around him, the wind lifting up the drifts on the ground to mingle with the snowflakes in the air. His breath came out in visible puffs and it hurt when he inhaled. He was going to die of hypothermia before he’d ever reach the Green Chapel at this rate.

Gringolet lifted his head and snorted, then broke into a canter. “Whoa, hey!” Gringolet refused to listen to him for a good minute before Gawain finally got him under control. “What is up with… you…” A flicker of light in the distance caught his eye through the blackness of the night. “You genius horse, I will give you all the carrots in the world once we’re—” Gawain stopped. He almost said, “Once we’re back in Camelot.” He swallowed heavily, then started Gringolet in the same direction, toward the light.

It took them nearly half an hour to get there and it was with a frozen fist that Gawain banged on the front door of the castle. A servant opened it and Gawain nearly got down on his knees begging him to ask his lord or lady. The servant looked surprised and immediately dragged him inside, ordering another servant to go attend to his horse and gear. He was stripped of his armor, bundled into furs, and shoved in a comfy chair before the fire. He really, really hoped the lord or lady of the castle was okay with him staying there because otherwise he’d be having a very awkward conversation.

The servants were behaving oddly as well, rushing to attend to his needs. He noticed one had been frantically sent off earlier to get their master and it almost seemed like they had been expecting him but he had come too early. The logical part of his brain told him that was ridiculous, but the thought was still there.

The fire crackled before him, warming him up slowly. He could start to feel his fingers and toes again. The tenseness left his shoulders as he sank into the chair, the soft comfort of the furs and the warmth of the flames lulling him into a torpor. He just wanted to go to sleep right here. Or have the Green Knight chop his head off right here, at this point he didn’t care which.

“Wouldn’t you rather rest in a bed after you’ve had something to eat?” a voice whispered just behind him. Gawain nodded sleepily before he realized he was talking to someone. He sat up and looked behind him, and felt his heart skip a beat. Two people stood behind him. One was a lovely young woman, with vibrant red hair that had small flowers littered throughout her wavy, curly locks. The second was a giant man, easily as large as the Green Knight, with darker red hair and a beard. The woman, who had spoken, offered him her hand. “Come on, how about we sit down and have a meal together?”

[xxyumeno]

I’m just going to leave this very interesting tid bit about Sir Dinadan here as I’m still busy with another blog, but... 

The reason to why Dinadan came to Britain, with just himself and a squire was due to him being a fanboy of one of the knights of round before he became part of it~ And I find this to be so damn hilarious. It also due to this very same knight that Dinadan adopted his policy of not fighting (more like fighting as the extreme last resort). When your new friend tries to force you into a fight with them against 30 some knights, yeah Dinadan def had his reasons. xD

[forthegothicheroine]

Mordred/Dinadan, humour

“I thought you said you didn’t believe in love.”

“Who says I love you?”

“These damn bite marks you left on my neck, because a shared bond of love is the only thing keeping me from killing you right now.”