#kcnungurus

 let’s all just take a moment to appreciate these...

u dnt understand how many times i cropped just his lips and hands okay

                His sword is pointed downwards, just barely touching                 the    King’s   chest;    and,   even   though   it’s   only                 training,  Lancelot makes no move to ease up on the                 offense.

why are we fre in ds

[ 4 ship headcanons - meme ]

1. Mordred will never forget Arthur risking his life for him. Mordred will always be loyal to Arthur for this, even with his doubts. It is this that makes Morgana brainwash him to fall to those doubts to be able to kill Arthur.

2. Mordred will talk about Druids and their culture only if Arthur breaches the subject first. However even with prodding he will not discuss magic, and who has it, and if he has it. He has once said that if Arthur thinks he had magic then he would go to the chopping block, and die the way his guardian did. Just because Mordred is still alive, he thinks Arthur knows he has magic.

3. Mordred has asked if he knew where Cerdan was buried or if he was just disposed of by Uther. He said that even his people like to pay respects to the dead, and he never did that for the man who was like a father to him.

My muse is suffering from war flashbacks. Send me “You’re safe here.” for my muse’s reaction.

The tower. The cold. The dark. The Dark Tower. The wet and the cold and the cold and the wet. And the screaming. Always the screaming. The black goo dripping, dripping, on her skin and her hair and seeping into her bones from the mandragora hanging from the ceiling everywhere. Nonononononono. She needed to get out. To get away from the screaming and the dark and the people she cared about jumping at her from around corners and laughing at her and condescending. And always they were pale and ghostly and looking down on her and laughing and laughing and laughing and she just wanted it all to stop--

Warm hands closing firmly but gently around her wrists and Arthur’s voice telling her she was safe, repeating those words like a mantra--”You’re safe here.”--snapped her back to reality. Her throat was raw, and her breath came in sharp, wheezing gasps, and Gwen realized she’d been screaming. She was safe. She was home in Camelot’s citadel, in the chambers she shared with Arthur, and her husband’s hands slid from her wrists to her shoulders and enveloped her in the warmth of his embrace. “You’re safe here.” Safe. She was safe.