c: lancelot du lac

8

When she immersed in such a trance, and moving through the past unconsciously, came to that point where first she saw the King ride toward her from the city, sighed to find her jour-ney done, glanced at him, thought him cold, high, self-contained, and passionless, “Not like him, not like my Lancelot” she brooded thus and grew half-guilty in her thoughts again.
–  Idylls of the King: Guinevere, Lord Alfred Tennyson

  • Lancelot: [in a crowd and can't find Merlin]
  • Lancelot: [using hands as megaphone] LANCELOT DESERVED TO DIE
  • Merlin: [leaps over table] HOW DARE YOU
  • Gwen: [explodes out of castle] EXCUSE ME
  • Arthur: [draws sword] WHAT'D YOU SAY
  • Gwaine: [bursts out of tavern] YOU WANT TO FUCKING GO
  • Merlin Fandom: [breaks through screen, screaming]
  • Lancelot: ......shit

Most servants activating their noble phantasms: yes, let us put an end to this battle

Lancelot du fuckin lac, breaking out the minigun for the fourth time today:

 

W̸͎̤̰͙̑́̚̚Ơ̸̢̦̪̟̥̖̹̒́̍̃ͤ̏̂̑͑̾̈́ͣ̈ͥ͊̀͊ͅO̦̣̬̱̮͍̖̠̞̍̎̾̆̽̐̇̈ͧ̀͛̏̆͛ͯͩ͘͠Ǫ̢̳̮̫̺͍͙̙̐͐͌̃̍́͆̌͋ͮ͘͟Ô̵̷͔̺̼̗͖̎ͤͦ̉͊̄ͫ̃ͤ͂ͥ́͐̌͜Ỏ̶̝̮̞̱̬̜̪̱͚̱̣̗̺̺̐͛͛ͪ͜͜͡͠ͅƠ̢̢̦͉̥̞̹̟͉̞̪͉̂̊̄̿ͯ͒̓̑̏̌͌͗̀͠O̴͕̳̙̤̖̼̹̲̱̺̣̺͎͓̮͉̺̒̔ͨͪ̎͊͟͟͜ͅO̪̤̺͍̺̳̬͉̹̞͕̞̟ͨ̿̒̅ͫ̌̅̀ͧ̓́͟ͅO̴̶̶̪͕̳̰̾̀̓͛̿͊̓ͦ́ͨ͌ͨ͑̋ͪͬ̽͟O̅͑͊̾̄ͭ̔̿ͫͭ́͏̤̫͎̬̟̦͉̭̦̹̯͇̙̯͔ͅͅO͇̺͍̟̳̮͉̮̲̪̯͎̟̭̽̈́̑̿̽̊͗ͭͦ̌̐̆̓͞O̴͐͌ͪ̽̇͂̒ͮ̈ͭ̎̓̉̇ͬͩ̇͠͠҉͔̬͖͓̭̭͠Ò̸͖̻̹͓̮̼̩̙̟̮͓̖̗̳̀ͬ̀͒̇̔̋͊̂́ͤ́́̕͟O̶͎͓͓̠͖͓͚̱̖͚̖̥̻͌̄̓͗̐ͤ̓ͣ̽́̋͐̏͛͗̓̌͛̕Ǫ̸̡̺̜̟͕̤̪͍̐ͨ̈͂̀̅ͩͭ̃͐ͅƠ̜̻͈̤͎͎͈̙̖͕̱͕̋̐ͣ̄̉ͮ́̕͟͜Õ̵̵̺̞͕̳̹̗͐̑ͧ͝O̓ͯ̋ͩͤ͗̓͆҉̨̨̨̺̘̟̳̭̭̼̖͝Ơ̴̧̺̻̪͎̮͕̙̲̓̈ͩ̌ͣ̂̓Ó̴̢̥̥̟̞̫̘͓͕̜̝̖͌̅̏ͩ̆̾͋̂̔̎͐ͬ̈̄O͕̬̗̫̻̟̼̰̤̰̳̺̦͉͇̫̠̝͛ͯ͑̊ͯ͑͒̆̓̉͘͜ͅǑ̱͈͕̭͉̭̙̪͖̽͐͐͋̃ͩ̀ͨ̓ͦ̀͟Ö̷́̽ͧͪ͌̾ͧ̉̍̓̓͏̙̯͈̱̭̪͕̝̗̤͕̖͉̯̖O̴͖͍͔̗̭̝͛͛̅ͩͯ͑ͧ̽̄̀͠͞O̷̶̧̙͈̥̦͎̙̯͚̻͔̭̻̠̭͉̊̽̄ͤ̈́ͯͩ̔ͨ̀͡ͅ!̷̷̴̡̳̳̣̤͇̩̪̦̰̞̈́͐̃ͧ͞ͅ!̶̝͈̦͈̭͓ͪ͋̑ͧ͐ͥ́̈́!̵̨̥͕̞͎̮͇̲̫͇̻͚ͩ̌ͫ͛̊͗ͣ̂ͧ!̶̢͔̘̹͕̭͓͙̩̮̹̻̰̭̮̿̽͗͛̅̈́̑ͯ̒͌͝͞ͅ!͕͍͙̦͓̯̳̗̞͖͚͇̱̔ͩ̏͊̋͌͋͋̎̆͐ͧͭͭ̀͜͝!̓͐͑ͭ̆͑̏́̽̕҉̡̪̣͔͓͖̼̩͇̯̹͇̮̰̺̭̥͉͜ͅ!̷̣͉̭̙̭̼̙̞̰̮̯̥̥̬̺̜͉ͭ͂ͤͣͧ͂ͪ͌ͫ͜

Most recent dream was me being Arthur and in a three way with Guinevere and Lancelot, and I was desperately trying to make that relationship work out because society was in the way again.