ofbetrayers

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idk how to describe this properly but there is Something There with characters who show their love through devotion, through service… loving from a distance, and proving their love by looking after them, caring for them, keeping them safe… i’m thinking about “i can’t carry it, but i can carry you” from sam gamgee, i’m thinking about “til my dying day” from eliot spencer, i’m thinking about “not to me, not if it’s you” from pylades, “i’m with you to the end of the line” from bucky barnes… love through the act of Following, of swearing fealty. and the tender surprise that comes with it when their loved one adores them in return.

#no way i'll see heaven * / . musing #ok im losing my mind

[ofbetrayers]

anitagaribaldi​:

open to everyone !

     The attic of the bed and breakfast was so damp, so lurid, so cluttered, that one wouldn’t think that Alice, nor Gertrude, had taken the time to sort through more than eighty years of things. Such an assumption was, more or less, correct.

     Dusty, wooden crates sat stacked on top of each other, comingled with yellowed pages stuffed into overcrowded bookshelves, and racks upon racks of summer blouses and winter fur coats. Anita’s boots stepped between discarded rolls of fabric, and the plywood floor glowed with a disturbed party, peppered with loud chatter and the skipping needle of the parlor’s record player. Although she was alone, footsteps echoing against dark walls, Anita hooked a finger under the collar of her blouse, tugging. She was a woman with a strong stomach–one couldn’t slice through internal organs being squeamish–but she couldn’t help but feel as if the walls were closing in upon her, ever since her unpleasantly cold fingers had tugged on a frozen lock.

     The idea of being trapped in Gertrude Stein’s tea party was unpleasant enough, that Anita had taken to rummaging through crates, not in possession of the usual cleaver, hammer, even the butt of sword or shotgun. Reaching into a spider’s web, Anita wrapped her hand around the frosty, dull end of a crowbar.

     A wave of relief washed over her as she shoved the sharp end of the tool into the window frame, the wood aching and splintering under the force of Anita’s upper arm strength. The window remained, frustratingly, in tact, despite it’s perturbed groans.

     Head growing hot, Anita hitched up a leg, adding her boot to her efforts. With a sharp crack, the crowbar flew from the window, flying back into a flimsy wall and knocking down a barrage of old books and patched trousers.

“mrs. garibaldi ! “ lancelot said with no small amount of genuine concern, stepping inside the attic just in time to see her crowbar go flying. “are you alright ? “ he moved closer, careful to still give her enough distance that she hopefully wouldn’t feel too trapped. he’d come up here looking not for an exit but for someone trying to make one, hoping to be of use with assuaging fears or ( possibly ) hatching an escape plan. he wasn’t too bothered by the thought of being stuck for awhile, but he was sure that others would be, & he considered it his job to serve & protect.

#anitagaribaldi * / . ft. anita #a man made to be loved * / . interaction

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i try not to get drunk around you. it feels like a good way to end up kissing you. it feels like a good way to tell you that i’m drowning without you. it feels like a bad idea, is what i’m saying. so sorry that i can’t come tonight. i just want to keep things okay. i want to keep things right.

#forgiveness. could you imagine ? * / . ft. arthur #no other sadness in the world would do * / . ft. guinevere #noblest & bravest * / . musing

[ofbetrayers]

closed for @pendragonfm​ !!

lancelot didn’t want to seem --- ungrateful, or anything like it. he was still amazed that arthur had taken him in without a word, had given him a place in his home, as if nothing had ever happened between them. but perhaps that was the root of the issue. he’d taken him in without a word. they’d never spoken about the painfully literal war they had waged, worked through the pain surrounding it, & ... lancelot wasn’t very good at talking about his feelings, was usually holding so much back so tightly that he could crack & burst into tears over the smallest thing, & so perhaps he should have been glad that arthur had not confronted him with how he felt, but he wasn’t. instead, he felt unsteady, unsure of himself, of where he stood with arthur, of his affection, & it sometimes was as if he couldn’t breathe.

he had convinced himself that arthur would talk when he was ready to. it had been two hundred years. the excuse was starting to sound a little hollow, but still, still, he did not say a word, terrified of breaking this fragile thing between them, of ruining this one blessing. he did not want to lose arthur’s friendship. their bond meant everything to him. but he couldn’t --- he couldn’t --- he couldn’t breathe. it was no way to live.

“arthur,” he managed one night, sitting at the table as the other man moved through the kitchen. the two syllables felt strange in his mouth, odd, even after centuries, because he should have been saying my lord, should have been granting him the honorifics he deserved. but arthur had insisted, & so lancelot had learned to drop the titles. “i think --- we have to talk.” it was a horrible opening, a severe understatement, but he couldn’t find it in himself to summon up anything better.

#no gif tonight bc my computer is being a Bitchtm sorry #a man made to be loved * / . interaction #forgiveness. could you imagine ? * / . ft. arthur

[ofbetrayers]

Anne Carson, Antigonick

#noblest & bravest * / . musing

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fatal-flaws-aflame​:

“Lancelot tried to have a Word. He considered it, as the ignorant country people still consider it, to be the most valuable of possessions. But the curious thing was that under the king-post of keeping faith with himself and with others, he had a contradictory nature which was far from holy. His Word was valuable to him not only because he was good, but also because he was bad. It is the bad people who need to have principles to restrain them. For one thing, he liked to hurt people. It was for the strange reason that he was cruel, that the poor fellow never killed a man who asked for mercy, or committed a cruel action which he could have prevented. (...) People have odd reasons for ending up as saints. A man who was not afflicted by ambitions of decency in his mind might simply have run away with his hero’s wife, and then perhaps the tragedy of Arthur would never have happened. An ordinary fellow, who did not spend half his life torturing himself by trying to discover what was right so as to conquer his inclination towards what was wrong, might have cut the knot which brought their ruin.”

— from The Once and Future King, T.H. White

#noblest & bravest * / . musing

[ofbetrayers]

can you die from lack of affection? Asking for myself

#noblest & bravest * / . musing

[ofbetrayers]

🍳 (anne)

“remember how i warned you that i cannot cook ? “ lancelot looks up from the disastrous dish he’d been trying to make, giving anne a slightly sheepish smile. “this was supposed to be an omelette. i don’t know where i went wrong, but i believe it may be poisonous by now.”

#anncboleyn * / . ft. anne #a man made to be loved * / . interaction #he's doing his best

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“He loved Arthur and he loved Guenever and he hated himself. The best knight in the world: everybody envied the self-esteem which must surely be his. But Lancelot never believed he was good or nice. Under the grotesque, magnificent shell with a face like Quasimodo’s, there was shame and self-loathing which had been planted there when he was tiny, by something which is now too late to trace. It is so fatally easy to make young children believe that they are horrible.”

— T.H.White, The Ill-Made Knight

#noblest & bravest * / . musing

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Send a 🍳 to make breakfast with my muse!

#meme tag tbd

[ofbetrayers]

Multi-muse thread starter meme Send 👥 and the name of one of my muses, and they’ll introduce your muse to another muse that I write.

#meme tag tbd #i also have clyde and h2

[ofbetrayers]

T. H. White analyses Malory’s Lancelot. From Elizabeth Brewer’s book, p. 82/83.

#the GASP when i saw adam #th white not knowing wtf bisexuality is ... #noblest & bravest * / . musing

[ofbetrayers]

6. How do other people's opinions about your muse affect them? & 28. How would they define love?

they don’t too much ? lancelot intensely dislikes being thought of as a man without honor or a cruel one, but he can bear it. he doesn’t much care about the opinions about him of anyone other than those he loves.

#28 already answered ! #the myth the legend * / . about

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Guinevere & Lancelot AU: Sweet bliss

As she stepped over the threshold, she remembered Sister Marianne had told her she was not to step foot in the kitchens again, not after setting fire to her hair. The sweet maiden, Emily, tried to teach her once, but on one occasion she left the Queen alone for a moment and came back to find her mistress dipping her fingers in the boiling water to retrieve the eggs. After that she refused to carry on with their lessons. He never minded, of course. For their nine days of blissful ignorance, he ate everything she put in front of him with a delighted smile.

“I am still your Queen! I can behead you.“ A quick and sudden silence fell. The air grew heavy and she thought she might choke. “My Queen, it took you half the morning to behead that chicken…" 

Marina Ruy Barbosa as Guinevere & Rômulo Estrela as Lancelot

#no other sadness in the world would do * / . ft. guinevere #noblest & bravest * / . musing

[ofbetrayers]

28. How would they define love?

unconditional support  devotion. fighting for them. but like, only from his end. he’s still trying to understand what it looks like to be loved.

#the myth the legend * / . about

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#dfhgskf #no other sadness in the world would do * / . ft. guinevere #noblest & bravest * / . musing

[ofbetrayers]

You’re in love with him, and he’s in love with you, and it’s like a goddamn tragedy, because you look at him and see the stars, and he looks at you and sees the sun. And you both think the other is just looking at the ground.

#noblest & bravest * / . musing #forgiveness. could you imagine ? * / . ft. arthur