Self-love/self-hate

Gawain is so happy to see his horse again that he feels better from his battle wounds and his horse is so happy it friend-bites him.

This is adorable.

First of all, thanks for the tag!

So, i decided that, yes, i'm going to do the reformatory an definitive arc in my fanfic. So consider this a small peak in what i'm trying to do.

The faces the ashman saw were not unfamiliar to him. From inside his own cell, he could see several souls that he previously knew, but that were now nothing more than bodies cursed with life. Lancelot was tied from head to toe with chains created specially and specifically tailored to his measurements. The piece of metal that wrapped around his neck and was attached to the walls was measured, tight enough to contain him but not tight enough to kill him. His wrists were tied to the floor along with his ankles, chained with the more resistant and thickest metal they had. Their goal was to pin him to the ground, make him vulnerable and less possibility to resist or escape. The poor man felt like a caged fighting dog. In the cell in front of his was a person not yet so disfigured, a face he could still describe as one of the fey paladins he grew up with. Nyx. A star-dust folk, considered to be from the same family as moonwings, coming from the Americas. He looked at him with those big starry eyes as if Lancelot were an abused puppy… Maybe he looked like one now. The boy had beautiful long hair as dark as the night, big eyes with stars and excessively pale skin, his hands and feet were painted like constellations in the sky. He was beautiful, but there was something missing in his appearance. Two days ago, Nyx was dragged out of the cell and taken to a different place upstairs, we thought it was just another dosing session to keep him in line. We couldn't be more wrong.

Within a few minutes we all heard the agonizing sound of Nyx's scream. He didn't went to be dosed, they took him to have the remaining base of his wings ripped off. Without any kind of thing to ease the pain of poor stardust. We heard the agonizing screams and cries for help for hours, every time he begged them to stop and they just wouldn't... He smelled it. The smell of blood, of despair, of the almost death of his childhood friend. And he couldn't do anything. Those who were still allowed to be out, the complete freaks who could no longer be called themselves, like lady Arachne, helped the poor fey as much as they could. The cleanest bandages they had, water, anything that could help him sleep. Nyx was the one who was tortured and almost killed, but he looked at Lancelot as if he were a living corpse, even if the one who had been on the verge of death wasn't him... He would give his life for his if necessary, even if his life wasn't. meant nothing. Devil’s nightmare was messing not only with their head, but with the soul of both of them and everyone there. Since no one would come to his rescue, Lancelot was sure that in a short time he would be a freak like the others...

@lancedoncrimsonwings

Next: @rabbit-flaying

WIP LateDay

Idk what day it is anymore but I know it isn't Wednesday whoops.

Danke @holy3cake for the tag

No Pressure tagging @aintgonnatakethis @beginning-writer + OPEN TAG FOR ALL to share a WIP, snippet or idea

Here, have another random snippet for Horizons that I wrote last night at 1:30am. No idea if I'll even include this but for now, enjoy!

Gawain's POV;

Night had long since come when Gawain found himself sat by the fire, watching Lancelot. The man's eyes were open and stairing sightlessly into the boughs above him, sometimes screwing shut whilst he bared his teeth into a snarl. Small movements of his body and the occasional gasp and choked moan betrayed how much he was suffering, clearly utterly unable to rest for the pain.

It had been several hours of this, and Gawain had had enough. He knew Lancelot would never ask for aid, yet he also knew that in this state, the man couldn't stop Gawain helping him either.

Grey eyes dulled from exhaustion followed his movement as Gawain got to his feet and circled round the fire to Lancelot's side.

"I must go and gather some herbs. Theres a willow tree by the river, the bark is good for pain," Gawain explained quickly. "I shan't be long, alright?"

"Are you well?" Lancelot croaked, eying Gawain up and down as if searching for an injury.

"Aye, I--"Gawain began, then chuckled to himself when he saw Lancelot crane his neck towards Squirrel then wince at the movement.

"--the boy is fine, Ashman. You're suffering, let me help you."

Predictably, then came the most unconvincing "I'm fine" Gawain had ever heard in his entire life. Lancelot now looked worse than ever, skin pale against his markings, sweat and blood glinting in the firelight, shaking knuckles clenching around bloodstained fabric.

I've seen dead men that looked healthier than he.

"Uh-huh. Aye, and I'm the King of Mercia" Gawain scoffed, shaking his head at the blatant lie.

"Whatever you say, my Liege…" Lancelot replied immediately, an odd tone to his voice that was only punctuated by the breathy way in which the pain caused him to speak.

Gawain scoffed again, but it was effort to stop himself from laughing. A small part of him he darent give voice to liked the way he'd purred the words a little too much…

"I will be off, now. I told you so you'd know where I had gone." Gawain said. He tried to halt his mind's traitorous musings.

"If you needed… time alone, you only had to… ask"

Gawain was certain he had imagined the wink, that there was no way Lancelot was teasing him like this. Surely not. Gawain managed to hold it together enough to raise an eyebrow in reply, shaking his head, about to come up with what would have been a truly witty retort when Lancelot spoke up again;

"Don't forget to… polish your crown, while you're out there."

And at that Gawain's brain damn near short circuited. There was no mistaking the meaning in his tone, the slight smirk, though ruined only slightly by a pained grimace and half gasp of pain. Did Lancelot truly mean the innuendo in the words, had he really meant to flirt?

"Only if you help." Gawain thought back, eyes widening when he heard a snicker then a groan.

Arawn's cock. Had he… Had he said that aloud?

"Your wish is my command, Sire." Lancelot whispered, almost too quiet to hear. Gawain shook his head, sure now that he must be dreaming. Yes, he must have fallen asleep, or he must be in dire need of it and hearing things.

Or if the Ashman truly was flirting with him, then Lancelot was worse off than he'd imagined and clearly delirious from pain.

Either way. Willow Bark and Feverfew. Yes. They were good things to focus on.

That, and decidedly not the idea of Lancelot…polishing his crown with those too-pale lips of his, made warm and plump by…

Willow-bark and Feverfew, Willow and Feverfew, WillowandFeverfewWillowand--

Gawain repeated the list in his head like a mantra, not once turning to look back as he turned on his heel and swiftly made his way down the hill onto the moors.

WIP Wednesday Thursday

Can we please ignore the fact i took two days to respond? In my defense I was stuck in a loop listening to Sabrina Carpenter's album, Epic Musical and Chappell Roan. AND finishing my fanfic's first chapter to finally post it on ao3.

Said that, thank you for the tag @lancedoncrimsonwings! This isn't something canon in my lore, it's just a cute bunny plot that came to me when I was learning to draw dragons. 'Cause latins myths, dragons are related to fire, and in my lore, the Ashfolk have bodies with a high body temperature, which can become even hotter depending on their emotions or state of health. Well, enjoy!

There was nothing special that day, it was just the basic, boring even, he dared to say. Lancelot was sitting, putting his shirt back on after finishing his daily check to see if any wounds were infected. Nothing special. Except that the girl examining him this time wasn't Polly, but a freckled red-haired girl who reached his chin. Pym was her name.

The poor girl was so scared that she didn't even speak.

He would lie down as soon as she left, probably just lie down and stare at the ceiling until he dozed off, even though he was sleepless. The redhead was about to walk out the door and Lancelot was about to lie down when they both heard high-pitched screams outside, and through the gap, Lancelot managed to catch a glimpse of something fast and strangely agile running clumsily between the people's feet, and Merlin, Nimue and Morgana trying to catch the thing. The three of them failed.

It didn't take long for the thing to sneak past everyone's feet and reach the tent they were in, and pass through the entire floor scaring every soul in that place out of their bodies. At a glance, the man thinks that what was running was a really large lizard or an iguana. He was almost right.

The monk takes his feet off the floor and Pym climbs onto the table and hides behind him. It seems that the unknown thing scared her more than he did. Unfortunately, none of this stopped the giant lizard from climbing up the table and climbing up Lancelot's leg. Both of them froze. The creature froze on Lancelot's leg, looking into his eyes, and Lancelot froze as soon as he felt the thing crawling up his leg.

The room fell silent. The monk realizes that what has wrapped itself around his leg is actually a baby dragon, and the dragon discovers that the man's body is actually very warm, and they both look eye to eye. Paralyzed.

The dragon had pearly white scales, large curious violet eyes, and sparkling wings. The claws weren't big enough to really hurt yet, but they were like little blunt needles hanging on his leg. It was… cute. As if a piece of the moon had given it life.

The little thing starts moving again, slowly and cautiously. Climbing up Lancelot's leg until he climbed his torso through his shirt. The curious little dragon pulls the collar of Lancelot's shirt and tries to see what's inside, and falls in his shirt. Lancelot let out a snort of laughter and lifted his shirt for the dragon come out of there. That's when Merlin, Nimue and Morgana came in, and found the dragon climbing up the monk's arm and rubbing itself affectionately against him. Purring and rubbing its little head against the curve of the junction of his nose and eye, and Lancelot was… Smiling?!

This was something new, but not unwelcome. Everyone stands still and open-mouthed at the interaction, but no one interferes. The dragon makes itself comfortable in Lancelot's warm, cozy lap, still purring and rubbing against Lancelot's hand.

Lancelot for his part, warms his body a little more to welcome the presence of the little dragon, and continues to smile at the corners of his lips and caress the little animal.

Looks like he won't need to nap today after all.

Haven't postes something in a while, so here's a picture of my beloved dog that i would fight god and hell for:

Her name is Kaya, she's eight alredy, and i love ver more than i love myself. And yes, she sleeps with her mouth open, which I find cute and prettiely silly.

Thank you for the tags @the-tav3rn-0wner! (And you're on the list too, I just didn't want to mark it twice.)

Passing the phone to people that every five SECONDS makes a new reblog notification on tumblr apper on my phone, and that I love very much and make my day when i get a notification.

@lancedoncrimsonwings @holy3cake @dinogod @warlocklawyer666 @gwalch-mei

Passing the phone tag game

Rules:

Tag your moots and other random ppl and if any comply they have to reblog with a scenario and tag others

Passing the phone who believes we should respect the fact that marvel gave us a strong independent Aro/ace female character

@immastealyourfood @annathemcuandstlover @thatone-midgardian @narwhals-randomness @thund3randrain @alliestatefanficworld @lucegoose-the-second @thescarleteevee @crazyinlovewithfandoms

FINALLY I HAVE TIME TO ANSWER! Sorry i toke three days to answer, i would have answered you yesterday but now i have school on saturday too 😭

Anyways. Damn right i do, lots of them actually 'cause i think about them having tattoos way more than it's considered normal.

1. The Tattoo Stile

I thought of the water color style (at least i think it's called like that, Please correct me If I'm wrong) and for that i have the only and simple reason of: IT FUCKING LOOKS LIKE FIRE SMOKE.

This is the style (open to better quality image):

It's a really short topic really, but since it's short i'm gonna add the place and the reason why i think it should be there.

1.2 The place and the reason.

I also thought that Lancelot would do a tattoo on his back, and i have a good reason for that one.

Hear me out, Lancelot's back is absolutely destroied, and i'm not exagerating, it is for a fact. His back is full of wip scars, and they all very much irregular and painful to look at, so i belive that he having a tattoo on his back is something as a tentative of making it pretty and less painfull or saying like "I survived, and i turned my scars and pain into something beautyfull again."

And come on, back tattoos are sexy and hot as fuck.

My head canon cause i really wanna talk about it.

So, me and my friend, who i unfortunely have also turned into a lancewain fan and i made him watch cursed so he could understand me, created a au where Lancelot's folk came from actual dragons.

In this au the ash folk have horns, wings and a tail, but Lancelot doesn't have these 'cause the red paladins cut it all out to make him look more human. Since i created it i thought "dragon tattoo on the back, dragon tattoo on the back, dragon tattoo on the back" (i promise to turn this into another fic when i finish the first one)

The design is basicaly this:

Your headcanons

Well, enough with my stories, let's talk on yours. Here i have three ideas but i didn't found my inspiration design online so i have to actually drawn them. It will take a while, so i'm just doing another post later.

I remember two very specifc things about your Lancelot.

Snakes

He's favourite season is autumn

i didn't found the fire or autumn inspiration desing, so i'll post them later, when i jave them drawned down, but i did fund the snake ones! I didn't found one good enough to his back tough (i mean i did found ONE good enough), but that's alright, let's just use his thights.

I mean, damn man he have some really good thights! Plus we need more man with tattos in "womanly" places.

There's also in some other places, and yes they all black, why? Cause he's an Ashman. Black and red are his colors. Blue to, but that's for the fire tattoo.

Well, even it i can't find the design i wanted, i still gonna explain it to you.

1.2 fey fire

I did thought about a fey fire tattoo, like, uh do i explain it... in my vision, it's still the watercolor stile, but blue and green water. It'd start on his fingers and go all way up to half of his forearm.

There's the back and hip saxy version where it beings on his back (same colors) and spread along it to his shoulder blades and then down his hips, plus, it could also come to his nape and collar bone. It'd make his back look like the scars are just on fire and give him a damn sexy look.

1.3 Autumn leaves

This actually is nothing that big, but i thought, this is a Lancelot and Gawain tatto, and they propably act like two idiots in love. Lancelot is a romantic man, maybe he would do it.

I don't remeber the name of the plants that apear in the skyfolk cheeks, but you know what i am talking about.

The Autumn leaves tattoo is basically this plant faling down Lancelot's shoulders and back, and chest if you want to.

I think that's it all, sorry for leaving you waiting Tavo, i would have loved answering this earlier, BUT CELLPHONES ARE BANNED FROM SCHOOLS IN MY COUNTRY. Sorry I'm still mad at this stupid new law.

@lancedoncrimsonwings

Kinda wanna write a "Lancelot and Gawain get a tattoo" thing. And of course I wanna draw the designs they'd get.

But now I need to actually decide what they'd get. I feel like Gawain's would be a stag in a linework heavy intricate Celtic knotwork inspired design...

What the heck would Lancelot's be?!

@beginning-writer I feel like you'll have ideas halp

Hear me out wheel! C: If you don’t know who someone is just look em up and vote based on vibes

how to fight writer’s block like it personally insulted your best friend

Writer’s block isn’t a myth. It’s real. It’s rude. And it shows up exactly when you don’t want it to—like an ex at your book launch. Here’s how to yeet it into the void:

1. stop trying to write “good”

Seriously. Lower the bar. Bury the bar. Let the bar rot in the forest. Write badly on purpose. Be cringe. Be free. You can’t fix a blank page, but you can edit a disaster.

2. change the medium

Tired: typing in the same doc for hours. Wired: scribbling in a notebook like a Victorian ghost. Inspired: recording a voice memo like a sleep-deprived cryptid explaining your plot to future you.

3. skip the part that’s blocking you

Stuck on Chapter 5? Write Chapter 9. Write the ending. Write that one scene with the knife and the rain and the betrayal. You can stitch it all together later like Frankenstein’s monster.

4. give your brain new input

Go outside. Touch grass. Watch a movie. Read a book not in your genre. Eavesdrop at a coffee shop. Ideas in = ideas out.

5. bribe yourself

“Write 100 words and you get a cookie.” “Finish this scene and you can scroll Pinterest for aesthetics.” Become your own treat-dispensing machine.

6. embrace ✨trash drafts✨

Your first draft is not the final product. It’s the mess you make before the magic. Let it be wild. Let it be ugly. Let it live.

7. stop declaring war on your creativity

Sometimes writer’s block is just burnout in a trench coat. Maybe what you need isn’t to write harder—it’s to rest, to dream, to let the well refill.

tl;dr: writer’s block can’t survive if you trick it into thinking you're just vibing. So vibe. Write weird stuff. Take breaks. Make art like no one’s watching (because no one is yet).

You’ve got this.

Saw this on Pinterest and remembered the Weeping Mink.

@lancedoncrimsonwings

Squirrel: Almost giving his dads a heart attack

Weeping Mink (angrily praying): Vesta, Goddess of sacred fire, family and househood. Give me strength not to kill that pest of a boy today.