The stupid thing was that, for once, he hadn’t even been
thinking about kissing Tristan. Normally it was all he could do to stop himself
from claiming that tempting mouth, poppy red and – in Galahad’s imaginings,
anyway – petal soft, working itself into that curling smirk that brought his
breath short. He had devoted long hours to constructing first kisses in his
mind: some deep and lingering, some gentle and faltering, some filthy-sweet and
wet. And all perfect.
Instead, in the end, he kissed
Tristan for the first time by clumsily smashing their mouths together because
the omega simply wouldn’t shut up about how Galahad really needed to relax with himself while he was
fighting. The way his upper lip rolled into a sneer as he – yet again – berated
Galahad for the limits of his moral perspective was entirely unbearable.
Galahad simply couldn’t stand it for a second more, and so had elected to grab
Tristan by the shoulders and kiss him until he stopped talking.
Which, in Galahad’s defence, did
do the trick.
The moment their lips touched,
Galahad felt Tristan freeze beneath him. His stomach twisted as he realised
what he had done, how disgusted Tristan must be with him. Still, he held his
lips against the other knight’s for a moment longer, trying to memorise the
feel of them in the only opportunity he would ever have.
Galahad pulled back slowly,
tensing in preparation for a well-deserved punch. What the hell had he been
thinking? Not much, apparently. Apart from stop
talking, you beautiful bastard, and stop telling me unpleasant truths about
myself, and please stop pouting in my
general direction. Frankly, he’d probably punch himself for such idiocy if
Tristan wasn’t going to do it for him. He squeezed his eyes shut and braced for
Any moment now.
Any… moment… oh.
Galahad opened his eyes to the
sight of Tristan’s back retreating into the distance, leaving him completely
un-punched. And oddly disappointed. Being knocked out wouldn’t have been his preferred
result of kissing Tristan (that would be Tristan kissing him back and then
dragging him bodily into his quarters so that they could explore what else they
could do with their mouths), but at least a punch would have been… something. No reaction at all was just
Galahad dragged a hand across his
beard and decided that if he couldn’t have Tristan inside his mouth, he would
settle for a drink instead. Several, in fact.
“Any idea what’s up with Tristan?”
Galahad lifted his head from his
beer – somewhat reluctantly, given that he’d only been allowed to get one
decent pull at it – and tried not to look guilty as Gawain sat down opposite
him. “Why should I know? I haven’t done anything to him.”
Gawain gave him a bemused look and
said, “Never suggested you did, Gal, the hell are you on about?”
“Nothing.” Galahad ducked his head
in embarrassment. “Don’t know. Anyway I never know what’s up with the man.
Complete mystery to me.”
Gawain leaned over to peer into
his flagon. “How many of those have you had, pup?”
“Not so many I couldn’t land a punch.”
“Fuck’s sake Galahad,” Gawain
said, staring at him, “you’re even touchier than usual today. Between you and
Tristan, must be something strange in the air.”
That had Galahad’s head snapping
back up. “Why? What has Tristan said?”
“Hasn’t said anything. But Dag
says he saw him fling himself – fully clothed, mind – into the lake and stay
submerged until Dag thought he’d have to go in and rescue him.” Gawain relaxed
back into his seat and chuckled. “I know he’s always a little insane, our
Tristan, but sounds like he might really have cracked this time.”
Galahad grabbed hold of Gawain’s
arm and shook it roughly. “And did he?”
“Did he what?” Gawain asked,
pulling his arm away and glaring at Galahad.
“Did he have to go and rescue
“Oh, that. No, he came back up
eventually, shouting bloody murder apparently. Refused to come out, too, just
growled at Dag until he left him be.” Gawain chuckled again, apparently amused
by Tristan’s antics, and then swivelled in his chair as a commotion broke out
at the front of the taverna. “O-ho, looks like the lady of the lake has emerged.”
“What? What’s going on Gawain?”
Galahad asked, standing up out of his seat to try to see through the crowd and
contemplating knocking Gawain over so he’d get his huge, blonde head out of the
And then, suddenly, Tristan was
standing in front of them, so wet he was dripping, clothes clinging to the
planes of his body, and glaring at Galahad with a feral expression and a sneer
on that fucking mouth that caused
Galahad’s cock to twitch traitorously beneath the flaps of his pteruges.
Galahad opened his mouth to say
something, to ask if Tristan was alright, but the omega stared him down into
silence. “Actions have consequences, alpha,”
he growled, sneering out the last word. Then, without any warning, Tristan
grabbed Galahad and slung him easily over his shoulder, Galahad’s head coming
face-to-face with Tristan’s arse. Which brought two things swiftly to the young
Tristan’s backside could have been carved from
It was not just water Tristan was soaked with.
Galahad breathed deep and moaned,
helplessly, as the scent of Tristan’s slick filled his nose. It was all he
could do not to bury his head in the curve where Tristan’s back met his
buttocks, not to trace his tongue against the sodden fabric of his trousers
where it clung to his flesh. The omega smelled glorious, like sun-warmed earth
and pine forests, and the faintest trace of molten iron, the scent of weaponry
clinging to Tristan’s skin. All thought was replaced by the need to be filled
with that scent, and Galahad ceased to struggle, content to simply be wrapped
in Tristan’s presence as they continued towards the living quarters.
Tristan stalked into his room and
deposited Galahad unceremoniously on the floor, which knocked enough sense back
into him to be able to figure out what was happening.
“Heat,” Galahad murmured,
near-unaware of his surroundings, “you’ve gone into your heat.”
“Yes,” Tristan growled, looming
over the bewildered alpha. “Your fault. I tried to staunch it,” he said,
gesturing to his damp clothing, “but the damage was done. So now you will be
learning about responsibility, little alpha.”
“My fault?” Galahad stammered,
gaping at Tristan as he turned away. “How the hell is it my fault? Tristan, I… what the fuck are you doing?”
Tristan finished pulling off his
tunic and turned to glare witheringly at Galahad. “You think I should stay in
my wet clothes, pup?”
“No, that’s… no, of course not.
But while I’m… and you’re in…” Galahad was having great difficulty remembering
how words worked while Tristan was revealing more and more tanned and taut
flesh, and with it releasing more of that spectacular scent that was making
Galahad’s head spin with desire. He wondered if trapping him in this room with
a heat-fevered omega he couldn’t touch was meant to be his punishment for the
If it was, Tristan was even more
of a sadist than he’d thought.
Completely naked now, Tristan
stalked past Galahad and crawled onto his bed, leaning his head down onto his
forearms and raising his ass in the air to make quite the most appealing
picture Galahad had ever seen. “Come on then, alpha,” Tristan spat, turning his head to fix Galahad with a glare,
“get on with it, don’t piss about.”
Galahad’s mouth flapped open and
he suddenly found it hard to breathe. “You want me to… you want me to mate with
you?” The question came out as a squeak.
“Whether I want you to or not is
irrelevant. I’m going to need a knot and since you are the reason for that unfortunate
necessity, you are going to provide one.” Tristan lowered his head back to his
arms and growled, “Unless you have a problem with that, Galahad the Pure.”
Galahad stared for a second. It
would be easy, horribly easy, to simply undress and slide into Tristan, already
slick and open with heat. To take his pleasure and feel Tristan tight around
his knot and-
“Fuck, yes I have a problem with
that!” Galahad snapped, causing Tristan to whip his head round, eyes narrowed
and fierce. “I don’t even know how you think I’m responsible! All I did was
kiss you Tristan, that…” He trailed off and simply stared at Tristan for a
moment. “You can’t possibly… Tristan you can’t think that was enough to set you
A growl came from low in Tristan’s
throat and he sneered, reminding Galahad uncomfortably of the moment he’d
kissed him. “Do not flatter yourself, pup, it was due in a few days anyway. You
simply nudged it closer, any alpha taking such liberties would have had the
“One moment of foolishness and you
choose to punish me like this?” Galahad felt anger rise inside him to mingle
with his dashed hopes. “I knew you were cruel, Tristan, but this I would have
said was beyond you.”
“Punish you?” Tristan finally
twisted out of his position and flew off the bed to confront Galahad. “How is
this punishment? Any alpha would jump at the chance of a wet, willing hole, do
not claim you are any different.”
“How little you think of me. I
would rather be nothing at all to you than that.” Galahad took a breath and
calmed his tone. “I will not be just a knot for you to fuck,” he said, voice
low and bitter, the words forced out between gritted teeth.
“Why kiss me at all then, pup?”
Tristan sneered, unmoved by Galahad’s words. “To humiliate me? Control me?”
“Because I love you, you stupid
The silence that followed his
words tasted sharp and painful to Galahad, his heart held exposed within it. It
filled the room, pressing close and uncomfortable against his skin until he had
to say something.
“I’m sorry. I never meant to… to
take advantage. I’ve thought of kissing you so often, I don’t know why I did it
today, I just couldn’t stop looking at your mouth, and I wanted… and I always
want to, so I don’t know-”
Tristan put his hand over
Galahad’s mouth to stop his babbling. “Hush, pup, I’m thinking.”
Galahad stared at him and tried
very hard to resist the urge to lick at Tristan’s skin, so warm and so close
and covered in the scent of his heat. He wanted to suck the flesh into his
mouth, to taste the salt of Tristan’s sweat and slick mingled together… but it
would not do to make such a mistake twice in one day, he might as well roll
over and let Tristan kill him if he did such a thing.
“You love me, you say.” Tristan
lifted his hand, and allowed Galahad to reply, yes, to his question before replacing it. “For how long?”
Again he removed his hand to let
Galahad speak, and Galahad felt he did an admirable job of not chasing after
it. “Training,” he managed to choke out, “when you taught me to use my bow.” He
expected – hoped, a little – that Tristan would replace his hand, continue
playing his game of questions. Instead, he dropped his arm by his side, looking
“We were nothing but children,
Galahad. This is nothing more than a crush you speak of.”
“I thought that. I hoped it. I
knew you would never return my feelings and so I prayed for them to fade. But they
only grew as we did, every time you showed me up in a fight, every time you
drank me under the table, every time you were kind to that stupid bird of
Tristan frowned at that but let it
pass. “And after all these years of pining, you kissed me today because?”
“Because you wouldn’t stop arguing
with me! And your mouth, it does this thing where it curls at the edges when
you’re telling me how stupid I am, and it drives me crazy Tristan, I can never
think when you do it, and I always lose every argument because I can’t stop
looking at your damn mouth and mmmmmf!”
Tristan, apparently, had decided
that kissing someone to shut them up was a very effective method after all.
It was not, as it turned out, any
better a kiss than their first had been. Galahad was entirely too stunned to
respond, his hands fluttering around Tristan’s waist but not brave enough to
actually touch, and his mouth remaining stubbornly closed against the heat of
Tristan’s. It wasn’t until Tristan flicked his tongue sweetly against the seam
of his mouth that Galahad finally woke up enough to realise what had happened,
but he could only chase after the press of Tristan’s lips as they pulled away,
and Tristan regarded him with amusement.
Amusement and, Galahad realised
with a start, nervousness. Trepidation. Fear.
“It’s ok,” he said, his hands
suddenly working again and clasping Tristan’s arms. “I’m not going to run off.
I…” Galahad suddenly remembered something terribly important. “Tristan, did you
really jump in the lake to try to stop your heat?”
Then Galahad saw something he had
never expected to in all his days.
“I thought… perhaps if I could
lower my temperature…” He hesitated, avoiding Galahad’s eyes. “I was not ready
to deal with what a heat would mean.”
Galahad placed a finger beneath
Tristan’s chin and drew his eyes upwards. “You said it meant nothing, that any
alpha would have brought it on.”
Tristan looked at him. “A lie,
pup. My heat isn’t due for weeks.”
Tristan tucked an errant curl
behind Galahad’s ear and smiled at him fondly. “Because I’m in love with you,
you stupid bastard.”
Galahad could only stare at Tristan,
trying to take in the words. “Oh,” he said, eventually, living up to the name
of stupid. “Really?” he added, after
a moment, not really doing anything to raise his reputation in terms of
“Oh.” Galahad felt a smile, wide
and silly, spread across his face to match the one on Tristan’s. “I love you
“You mentioned that,” Tristan
“Yes. Sorry. Think I’m a bit
stunned. And your scent… Fuck, Tristan, you’re in heat.”
“Which means we should… if you
“Yes, alpha, my alpha, right fucking now.”
Their third kiss, Galahad was
thankful to discover, was indeed the charm.
Premise: Because I rose to the challenge of speaking entirely in limericks, the GM decided to put me in more and more positions wherein I would have to perform, just to mess with me. We were at a royal ball for this particular instance.
GM: *steepling his fingers like an anime villain* You have been asked to perform. Remember your restrictions.
Me (OOC): Like you would ever make me forget. I take the stage and begin to play my lute.
GM: Roll for Perform
Me: Now I tell you a tale Of some Pythons and a Grail We start in Anthrax, A castle, true facts, With virgins begging to be nailed.
GM: Are you seriously doing Monty Python and the Holy Grail right now?
Wizard (OOC): I cast Amplify Voice on him. I want the entire kingdom to hear this.
Me: Galahad was a knight quite pure His leanings, indeed, demure. Anthrax ladies seemed querulous, His position, quite perilous, Indeed he needed a rescuer.
Enter Lancelot to the fray! He kept the horny ladies at bay. Galahad was dragged And Lancelot bragged About how he saved him that day.
Yet still, Galahad groaned, for, if about Lancelot he had known he wouldn’t consider it sin if he decided to put in to eight score ladies, his bone.
*the entire table starts laughing, with the obvious exception of the GM*
GM: I’m going to give you 500 points of RP experience for that, but only because of the appropriate use of the word “querulous”.
In Arthurian legend, Sir Lancelot is “The Brave” and Sir Galahad is “The Pure.” Therefore, it is fitting that Eggsy does not earn the title of Lancelot and instead goes on to take Harry’s place as Galahad, as Eggsy demonstrates repeatedly in the film that he is pure of heart, and Roxy earns the Lancelot title by conquering her fear.- (x)
I’m sure I’m going to make some people miffed with this portrayal of these two, but whatever.
Instead of the absentee father, I went with Lancelot being an awkward single dad raising Galahad while juggling a career as a warrior. I’ve been inspired by Corvo and Emily (Dishonored) and Bobby and Hank Hill. Actually, if I had one way to describe them, they’re both like Bobby and Hank Hill, just because Lancelot sometimes has the emotional depth of a teaspoon and raising a girl is extremely awkward when you’re a general of some army and the best friend of a king.
Galahad is still a cute, happy child and rather make emphasis on chastity or whatever as a part of Galahad’s purity, I place an emphasis on Galahad being, well, pure of heart because she’s a kid and this goes back to the idea that Galahad is connected to the paranormal Cauldron of Rebirth because of her being a child and kids are believed to have more a connection the spiritual world. Galahad will become a very bad ass knight one day thanks to her dad. While Lancelot isn’t the most affectionate father, you bet he is a papa bear with his kid.
LET ME DREAM.
Anyway, Lancelot and his family are Sarmatians that settled in Gaul! I borrowed this idea from the 2004 King Arthur movie. But it says that the Sarmatians were Iranian people so I felt like it would be more fitting to, uh, you know, make them look like that. The armor is really hard to find, let alone a child’s clothing. Galahad’s clothing is a hosh posh of things but the armor for both of them is taken from Sarmatians/Scythian/Alan armor.
All of these things are a pain in the ass researching, fyi.
Eggsy steals the car and is knocked out in the crash.
Eggsy ends up time traveling to King Arthur’s Court and wicked right?
Only goddamn does he miss proper toilets and he doesn’t even know what is going on with the food.
And it turns out Arthur is a super dick.
But magic is real and Merlin is fucking aces so Eggsy spends all his time with him as Merlin can see that he’s clearly from another time. And Merlin tries to gain all the knowledge he can from the traveler.
And then Galahad shows up returned from a quest and he is as beautiful and noble as the stories always suggested.
So colour Eggsy surprised as hell, when he walks in on the pure Galahad sitting on Merlin’s lap and them kissing desperately. They are terrified at being caught, but Eggsy being 21st century is all chill, my time that’s totally cool, you guys can even get married now.
They look at each other and then Eggsy and ask if relationship with 3 are treated similarly.
“Nah, I mean they happen, and people are supposed to be cool, but judgmental wankers everywhere. But you ain’t going to be like in trouble or nofing for it. Why?”
And Eggsy ends up in bed with them. They fall in love and Eggsy learns to sword fight and he teaches Galahad to Parkour and then the final battle happens and just as they are about to reach him, Merlin and Galahad watch as Eggsy fades away.
Eggsy wakes back up in his life in that car like no time has passed. He’s taken to lock up and demands his one phone call. But he realizes he has no one to call. So he orders a pizza.
The cop comes in furious and lets Eggsy go. Eggsy has no idea what is going on, until he sees a posh man in a suit paying for his pizza.
And it’s fucking Galahad.
“I go by Harry now.” He says before Eggsy can talk. “Merlin, is of course still Merlin. Here is your food. Now come along.”
Eggsy follows all the way to the tailor shop, holding the pizza.
They sink through the floor and eventually make it to Merlin, who is now bald.
“Sorry lad, I know ye liked the hair. But making us immortal until we could find you again has some costs. Used almost all of my magic.”
“Do you know how frightfully boring the Victorians were?” Harry grumbled.
“I dreamed you. All of it was just a fucking dream?”
“Or magic used to be real, and we used the last of it to make it to you. Oh and become super spies who save the world.” Harry grinned. “Want to join?”
“Hell yes.” Eggsy said, and pulled his two fairy tale heroes close and didn’t let go.
The wonderful and incredible writer of @mgcircles@wedlakeserenities asked me to Nerd Moment the Holy Grail and I couldn’t say no. If you are not
The idea of the Holy Grail has been around for thousands of years. We have seen in it everything from Arthurian Legend, Templar history, Indiana Jones & the Last Crusade and Dan Brown’s writing. During Nimue OUAT took it’s turn in creating it’s very own version of not only the Grail legend but Excalibur and even the Spear of Destiny.
In every version of the Grail legend the cup,which is the most common image of it, can give life. In Indiana Jones, Indy brings the cup to his father so he can drink and heal his wound. In some Templar legend the Grail is not a cup but the Gospel of Jesus Christ but in most it is the Holy cup. The Templar’s searching for the Grail is a story that became popular during the height of their existence. Some even have written that the Grail is the womb of the woman who birthed Christ children because after all he was a Jewish Rabbi and would have followed his traditions. The most notable Grail legends of all are the ones that come from Arthurian legend. Coming from Arthurian legend the idea of Excalibur being forged from the Grail makes complete sense.
Eggsy is fucking me up if only because he’s 100% a portrait of negative stereotypes of poor working class Britain on the surface but that’s never TREATED as a negative, not except by stuck up snobs, every choice Eggsy has made has been related to his family, everything he does is an effort to do the right thing, of course he couldn’t possible be Lancelot, of COURSE he’s Galahad, the pure hearted.