More Work On My Weeping Monk Cosplay... Heck Yes!

This is the result of a person who loves Cursed and Sabrina Carpenter. I couldn't resist, this was totally what Gawain wanted to say in this scene and you can't convince me otherwise.

Plus with the same song just because he looked extremely indignant in that same scene.

Song: Slim Pickins by Sabrina Carpenter

@lancedoncrimsonwings

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.

I made another one and added some 'details' in pen. And I thought you might like to see it.

I did some of Squirrel as, well, a squirrel, too. But those are for tomorrow.

And i do not wanna do this same post twice so I'm tagging you again @gwalch-mei

Well ladies and gentleman, i fear everything i have to offer you - for now - is this really simple drawing of silly bear Gawain in his green knight's helmet. But literally.

And here's him whitout the helmet. The picture is linda bad, sorry.

@lancedoncrimsonwings

@gwalch-mei i don't know but my head is telling me you would like this for some reason

Fun little thing about medieval medicine.

So there’s this old German remedy for getting rid of boils. A mix of eggshells, egg whites, and sulfur rubbed into the boil while reciting the incantation and saying five Paternosters. And according to my prof’s friend (a doctor), it’s all very sensible. The eggshells abrade the skin so the sulfur can sink in and fry the boil. The egg white forms a flexible protective barrier. The incantation and prayers are important because you need to rub it in for a certain amount of time.

It’s easy to take the magic words as superstition, but they’re important.

Random scenario cause yes

First, this is not my head-canon but Tavo's. I kind of had this- possibly incomplete - scenario for a good few days after I saw the head-canons' post, so I did this small thing.

Gawain was watching Lancelot train Squirrel in the morning as he regularly did, but something was different this morning. Another child was there, learning from Lancelot too, but he wasn't talking much yet, or maybe it was just Squirrel who wouldn't shut up.

As Lancelot distanced himself from the boys and gave them a break to drink water, he approached the knight and he finally saw the chance to ask something stuck in his mind.

“Who's the new kid? I don't think I've ever seen him around. Is he a new rescue?” he asks. Lancelot looked at him with furrowed eyebrows as he took a sip of water, which left Gawain confused. It was a valid question since it was not possible to remember every face in the camp, especially the newcomers. "What?"

The ashman continues to look at him with furrowed eyebrows, analyzing the knight's face as if looking for a joke, but finds nothing but confusion. “You… could say that.” He responds, still staring at the other man's face.

Gawain is even more confused by this and furrows his eyebrows as well. "How’s that?"

“Gawain… That child is my son, Galahad.”

Gawain's eyes widened upon hearing Lancelot's confession. He tilts his head to the side to see the child better. His eyes traveling between the so-called son of Lancelot and Lancelot, comparing the two. And they had basically nothing in common.

“That boy, small and pale, with red hair and no marks on his face, is your son?" The skyman asks in disbelief, still exchanging his gaze between the former monk and the child in the distance. 

Lancelot licks his lips and sighs at hearing the questioning. "Yes. Galahad, small and less pale than me, with fire hair and no tear marks yet, is my son.”

“Are you sure you’re the father?” Gawain says immediately after Lancelot finishes speaking, eyes fixed on Galahad who was now finally speaking after Squirrel paused his talk for a moment.

The former monk gives the knight a hard look as soon as the question leaves his lips. Frankly, it wasn't the first time someone questioned his paternity in relation to Galahad, but it was still irritating every time he had this conversation.

Hearing the question coming from his best friend made his patience disappear in a blink of an eye. His next words came out harshly. “Yes, Gawain of Orkley, I am sure that I am the father. Because I was ab-” He stops mid-sentence, momentarily composing himself to change the words. “Because his mother slept only with me with the aim of getting pregnant. And it succeed.”

Gawain knew he had done something wrong when he saw Lancelot's marks suddenly turn darker, like wine. But hearing his full name and a rephrase mid-sentence was something else. He doesn't touch on the subject, though. He knows better than that and he knows that his best friend will talk to him if he wants and is ready. "Sorry. I didn’t mean to anger you by questioning Galahad’s paternity.”

“It’s fine, but do not do something like that again.” The ashman responds by calming his nerves again and drinking another sip of water.

“It’s just that you two don’t look-” He stops his sentence with his mouth open. Behind Lancelot, Galahad and Squirrel were playing, and Galahad raised his leg to the maximum doing a perfect split. Squirrel looked impressed, Gawain was scared and certainly eating his own words. “Forget it, I can see the resemblance now.”

The former monk finds it strange, but doesn't question it either. He says goodbye to the knight momentarily and returns to training the children.

Gawain had so many questions… But unfortunately that would have to wait. So he just leans against a tree and goes back to watch Lancelot train his two sons.

Gods, having to refer to Lancelot and Gawain as best friends killed me, on the other hand I put squirrel as his son too at the end as a compensation.

Again I should be resting because I'm sick, but here I am again. @lancedoncrimsonwings maybe I'll steal your head-canons more often, but you can't judge me, they're too good.

I fucking love tumblr

Probably Gawain and Lancelot not letting him fight paladins.

i think in a modern au. many arthurian characters are banned from every single fast food chain ever. all for different reasons of course

Poor Hector. While Gareth wants to escape his Scottish family, Hector is... happy? Yeah happy, but has to deal with his crazy/autistic French family.

I think we should have more Hector des Mares. Can we have more Hector des Mares or more of the Du Lac family being a family?

look, a family photo!

I feel bad for those who live in another country and don't have the opportunity to eat barbecued cheese with baked garlic bread on the beach.

The best thing is the Brazilian taste of an afternoon at the beach.

Let's ignore the previous post, I love my country.