*Throw Lancelot Homosexually Thinking About Gawain At You And Run.*

*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

More Posts from Beginning-writer and Others

4 months ago

May i talk about what i learned today at class? It's aboout some injuries, basic if yoou want to call an ambulance and help them to send who you need to inste of the whole hospital. Also, as a writer, i think this would help some, it's shallow knowlodgement, but when you're new writing small things can help.

This can be quite long so if you don't have the time i sujest you to read it later.

Bones

we have 5-6 tipes of bones. I just learned 5, so here's a small resume:

Flat bones: The head/cranium bones. Long bones: They are exactly as they sound, large in size, like the femur. Small bones: Small and square, like the fingers's bones. Irregular bones: Bones with a strange appearance, such as vertebrae. Elongated bones: Long, but flat and without a central canal. Like the ribs.

For the more technical part, bones are exactly what we think and maybe a little more. But for the most part, they serve to support the body and protect vital organs. Like lungs, brain, heary, and others.

And actually, bones are a tissue. They are a rigid, highly specialized form of connective tissue. Also, they carry minerals like calcium and phosphorus and are responsable for making blood cells like white, red blood cells and platelets.

Our bones naturally have mini cracks, you move, they wear out and they make mini cracks. But they are not harmful.

Curiosity: the older you get, the fewer bones in your cranium you have, because they join together into one. And when you are a baby your bones are not completely formed, like your fingers. A baby's fingers don't have proper bones yet, they develop over time.

Injuries. Fractures and dislocation.

This is basically a summary of the summary.

First, how does a bone break? That's quite simple to anwser.

Remember the lil cracks in our bones? Well, If you do a lot of movement and don't give yourself time to recover, especially if you do sports, the crack tends to get bigger. When this crack gets bigger and you apply too much force, your bone breaks.

But this can happen not where you hit it, but in another place. For example, you apply a lot of force at the beginning of the calf, but the bone breaks in the middle of it. Why? Because the crack was bigger in the middle of the calf.

Now, we have two tipes of broke bones. The open and the closed fracture.

Open fracture: Again, the name is straightforward. An open fracture is when you can see the person's bone after it breaks. The flesh breaks, and the bones comes out. This is a open fracture.

Closed fracture: When someone's bone broke but their flesh didn't. The broken part bends, but you don't see the bone, just a vomule left where it broke.

How to help the person before calling an ambulance, or taking them in the car if the health service is not free.

Exposed: See if arterial blood, which is darker, similar to wine, is coming out. Try to stop the bleeding and make sure the exposed bone is not tearing any other part. Don't let the exposed part move and try to calm the person. Panic causes your heart to speed up and send more blood which causes blood loss and eventual fainting or death from blood loss. Closed: Keep the person in the same position as he fell when the bone was broken, do not move the area or allow the injured person or anyone else to move in that area. Try to calm the person to alleviate the pain and call the ambulance.

When call the ambulance, say what happend. Exposed or not fracture, what the type of bool if theres any, and the area of the body where it's broken.

Joints

The main joints are the patella and labrum. The patella is the knee and the labrum is the shoulder.

There's just one thing you need to know about joints. If it hasn't ruptured, the tendency is for it to always return to its place. "The patella has dislocated" The doctor will put it back in its place without even needing anesthesia, because it hasn't ruptured.

BUT that doesn't mean you're going to move around and try to put it back in place, leave that to the doctor. Call an ambulance or take the person in your car and tell them that he dislocated the connection between this bone and that bone, or as you know it, knee, shoulder, elbow, etc.

Dislocating a bone will never happen in the middle of it, because to dislocate a bone it has to come out of place, and this only happens if the joint comes out of place and takes the bone out of where it is.

Fun fact, Joints not only have the function of moving your body, but also of stopping certain parts where they are. Your foot just doesn't reach your nose because your knee stops it.

Skull and Ribs.

First, the skull. Your entire skull has just one purpose, to protect the head mass and eyes.

Your nose and cheekbones are there to cushion the impact so they don't reach your eyes. If you don't damage your eyes, your nose and cheekbones would probably be broken first.

Your forehead has the same function. It was made like a bumper to cushion the impact before it hits your brain.

If your skull is dented, congratulations, you broke it and you should see a doctor immediately. Call an ambulance and tell them in which part of the head the blow happened and how deep it seems, one, two fingers or more, if it goes beyond five fingers, ask them to hurry, this is a serious injury. And remember, all skull fractures should be closed. if it's not, then you should fly down the hospital.

A crack in the skull, or superficial break, without denting, can be identified by the intense headache.

Now, the ribs. Believe it or not, ribs were meant to be broken. They are the buffer for the lungs and heart.

We have twelve ribs on each side, making a total of twenty-four of them. And they were made to be broken. The problem with breaking your ribs isn't that they're broken, it's that they puncture your organs. In fact, when you do recussitation with your hands, you will probably break your ribs in the process.

Many people also break ribs without knowing it and don't realize it until they feel the discomfort and pain when breathing. But now, in recovery, it's been one to two months without making any effort or moving the area suddenly, and the pain will last ALL the time until the end of recovery. If not, it takes longer to heal. Or - in the worst case scenario - your rib could crack or break again, and puncture your organs.

The question of recognizing a broken rib will depend on the individual, because a broken rib is a fracture closed inwards, targeting organs, such as the skull. It is recognized by the sinking in the chest and the pain when breathing. Again, this happens because the ribs are bumpers, so they will stop the impact to some extent.

Curiosity: Some gymnasts remove their ribs to have more flexibility, or for aesthetic reasons. You can live without them, but your organs are neglected.

Calls to ambulance

Now let's review everything for when we need to call an ambulance.

Open fracture: Stops the bleeding, do not allow the bone to hurt any other part, call the ambulance and tell them where the fracture is and whether it is large or not. Calm the injured person to reduce bleeding.

Closed fracture: Do not allow movement of the broken area and try to keep it exactly as it is. Call the ambulance and tell them where the fracture was.

Dislocation: Do not allow the area to be moved until the ambulance arrives. Call the ambulance, tell them it was a displacement and tell them where it was, if possible tell the name of the joint.

Broken skull: Place the head in a soft but not elevated place. Check whether the skull is dented and in which part, and whether or not the person is conscious. If she is, say this and check if she has a severe headache. Tell everything to the ambulance when calliung it, a broken head is no joke and every detail can be important.

Broken ribs: Don't let the chest be moved until the ambulance arrives, try to see how many ribs were broken without touching them. See if they are deep and if the person is breathing. Call the ambulance and tell them everything, remember if you see the ribs tell them to speed up.

Believe me this helps. If someone desperate calls the ambulance and gives the wrong information or in the wrong way, it could mean a life or more. Yours may have been a crash that caused non-fatal or harmful cuts, and on the other side there may be a worse case that will be left aside because you gave the information desperately and incorrectly.

Paramedics will send you the equivalent of your problem, knowing your problem can save your life and someone else's.

And if you're just a writer, congratulations, now you know the basics of understanding the fractures of your perosages and what to do about them.

Tags (tagging who i feel who'd like this kind of content): @lancedoncrimsonwings @dinogod @holy3cake @rabbit-flaying @moyavince


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7 months ago

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

5 months ago

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.


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4 months ago

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

Haven't Postes Something In A While, So Here's A Picture Of My Beloved Dog That I Would Fight God And
Haven't Postes Something In A While, So Here's A Picture Of My Beloved Dog That I Would Fight God And
Haven't Postes Something In A While, So Here's A Picture Of My Beloved Dog That I Would Fight God And

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.


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4 months ago

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

I Made Another One And Added Some 'details' In Pen. And I Thought You Might Like To See It.
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.

Well Ladies And Gentleman, I Fear Everything I Have To Offer You - For Now - Is This Really Simple Drawing

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

Well Ladies And Gentleman, I Fear Everything I Have To Offer You - For Now - Is This Really Simple Drawing

@lancedoncrimsonwings

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


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6 months ago

REBLOG THIS IF YOU THINK THAT YOUR INTERNET FRIENDS DESERVE THE WORLD AND EVERYTHING BEYOND THAT.

4 months ago

Whit pleasure Sir.

So, at first my username was 'vaquinhadecogumelinhos', which was created when I was 11-12 years old. Well, I spent a long time before going back to using tumblr. And yet that name had a reason.

'Vaquinha-de-cogumelinhos' translate to 'LilMushrooms-Calf' and i named my blog like this cause when i was younger, i was OBSESSED with bulls and cows and calfs. And I was innocently wandering around Minecraft with my cousins and one of them drops the information that there is a mushroom cow. Mushrooms were another thing I had a big hyperfocus on for a good few years. I heard this and went looking for a picture or confirmation that it was real, and I came across the wonder of the cows on Minecraft's mushroom island.

Whit Pleasure Sir.

I fell in love at first sight.

This was perfect, my two hyperfocuses on one thing. So I decided that I would name any social midia username after those perfections of fictional nature.

It's been a good few years since I stopped using tumblr and I came back in December of last year, and I fell in love with tumblr. But my username was no longer something I identified with, not even my profile picture was something I liked. So I changed everything.

My profile picture and dashboard are now as chaotic and weird as I've accepted myself to be. And I'm happy with that. But my name was another story.

I'm nearly fluent in American English, which is a blessing because it's also mostly in English. But I realized that for a social network that's mostly in English, my username could be as dificult to write as a dinosaur's. So I changed it to something simple, but that would describe me well. I could have put Angry-wild-racoon, but I chose beginning-writer. Cause whoever read it would know right away what half of my blog is about. Write. The other half is reserved for the five-person Cursed fandom and the even smaller fandom that ships Lancewain.

Tagging anyone who sees this!

Tag game🎉

Tag your moots and ask them where they got the idea for their tumblr accounts name!

For my name it was a nickname I was giving back in middleschool! One of our teacher had a system where we worked with 'wifi' eachtime we talked in class we lost a bar of the "wifi" (was a weird joke and we never held count on that) All the kids usually joked if they needed 'wifi' , they would borrow mine if they wanted to talk more. (I was incredibly shy in middle school, I only talked to like 3 people at school;^;)

They called me Ms. Wifi because of that. I just thought it would be funny if I put 'miss' instead of 'ms' because of my terrible actual wifi connection I have at home lol.

That's my story! Now moots, only if you guys want to, tell us your story.

Tags-> @slipping-lately @firequeenofficial @noagskryf @twinklstarrrr @halfbakedspuds @polterwasteist @rokushi-san @mygedagtes +anyone that sees this and wants to do this as well


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5 months ago

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 LateDay

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beginning-writer - Don't know what type, but i write something.
Don't know what type, but i write something.

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