#arthur is pretty insufferable ngl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kashilascorner · 1 month

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🥖🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿 for the Arthuriana ask game! =)

Thanks for asking! ☺️

🥖Favorite French/du lac (Lancelot, Hector de Maris, Bors, Lionel, Galahad, ect)

I'm basic so it's Lancelot! My beloved Lancelot. He's hilarious in Knight of the cart. He's a heartthrob (even 90s Richard Gere played him). He's full of sexy catholic angst. He's ridiculous, and insufferable, and full of love and pain and oh-so-tragic. He grew up with faeries or something. Probably a terrible father. He's just muy guy.

And I also really like Bors. I imagine him going on the Grail quest with a bunch of children behind him looking like a tired uncle NGL. And he was DELIGHTFUL in Legend of King Arthur 1979 ❤️ (he's low-key mixed with Kay there, too! Which is an interesting choice)

🏴󠁧󠁢󠁷󠁬󠁳󠁿Pick A Pelli Spawn (Percival, Aglovale, Tor, Lamorak, Aylane, Dindrane, Donar, ect)

If you had asked me a few years back I'd say Percy but now I can only give you one answer, and that is Aglovale. I got a liking to him because of this webtoon called Gradalis (Percy is the protagonist and Aglovale is a prominent character who looks like a bishonen, though he's in his 30s). Gives off tired older brother vibes. He's a deadbeat dad. His dad was a dead beat dad. What's up with Arthuriana having little brothers surpassing their elders until no one pays them any attention? Everyone (or not everyone) loves Lamorak and Perceval was pretty much perfect (though really silly, Le conte du Graal is silly as hell) but what about Aglovale? ... See, that's what I mean.

And mi girl Dindrane. Even her name is pretty!!

Send me an Arthurian ask! 🥰

#answered #invaders-forever

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irons-enough · 3 years

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June 1881 (Teenage Arthur Morgan)

A short little ficlet inspired by this amazing photo edit by @foundynnel which made me obsessed with the idea of cocky bastard teenage Arthur. Maybe I’ll expand on this one day (Red Dead YA novel, anyone?) but it was fun to write!

Rating: G Tags: Language, teeny bit of blood

Wyoming Territory - June 1881

Arthur Morgan spat blood into the dirt. His eyes were bright with adrenaline and, just beneath the surface, an unbridled fury. His split lip curled into an arrogant smile as he raised his fists again. "That all you got?"

His opponent cycled between shock and rage that Arthur had not gone down in one hit. but it was the look in his eyes--the insufferable, cocky stare of a seventeen-year-old drifter with a six-shooter and a foul attitude--that made him swing wide to slam his fist into the little son of a bitch's face. Arthur was ready; waiting, in fact. He raised his arm to bar the swing and with his other hand punched upward into the man's jaw. He heard the crack of bone at the same time the break reverberated through his fist, and the man fell as suddenly and heavily as he had fallen asleep, groaning helplessly as he cradled his broken jaw.

Arthur shook out his hand, swiped the blood from his lower lip. He smirked in satisfaction at the stunned silence of the onlookers. He made a show of dusting off his shirt and casually picking up his hat from where it lay in the road. “Gentlemen,” he said in farewell, with a polite nod to the assembled crowd.

________________________________________

"Arthur. What the fuck?"

Arthur smirked at Dutch's greeting as he arrived at their campsite, tried and failed to look innocent. "Well, hey to you, too."

"You wanna explain why the entire goddamn town is talkin' about some cocky hotshot kid layin' out the local stable hand?"

"Really? They are?" Arthur exclaimed, his eyes brightening. Dutch whacked him upside the head. "Ow!"

"Tell me, son, when Hosea and I say 'Don't do anything stupid', what exactly is it that you hear?" Dutch demanded.

Arthur rubbed the back of his head. "Not much, I guess."

"Oh, that's evident." Dutch's dark eyes narrowed at Arthur's defiant expression. "You listenin’' to me?"

"Sure, just not your goddamn sarcasm," Arthur spat.

"You got some attitude, you--" He bit back the curse that was just shy of forming on his lips. "Susan!" he yelled. "Deal with him. I'm not his goddamn father; not my job to deal with his bullshit."

"Oh, and so now it’s mine?!" Susan's voice fell like a hatchet even from a distance. Arthur leaned his head on his fist to hide his grin as Susan and Dutch argued over whose problem he was this time.

Hosea knocked his fist into Arthur’s shoulder, beckoning. “Come on, Arthur.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed as he hauled himself to his feet, as though it was a major inconvenience. He followed Hosea over to the front of the abandoned cabin at their campsite, a decrepit old building with a half-collapsed roof. Hosea struck a match against his boot heel and lit a cigarette as he leaned against the side of the cottage.

“Can I get one?” said Arthur.

“No.”

“C’mon, Hosea...” “Shut up. Get over here.”

Arthur slumped against the wall beside Hosea. He took his pistol from its holster and toyed with it: spinning it around his fingers as he drew, looking down the sights as he pointed it at the dirt. Hosea snatched it from him deftly. “What the hell?” Arthur exclaimed.

“Arthur, you wanna live to see twenty?” said Hosea.

“Who cares?” Arthur’s head lolled so that his hat hid his eyes.

“I care. And you should care.” Hosea’s voice was even now, but still severe. “You’re still a goddamn kid, you don’t know anything yet. Suffice it to say if you’re stupid enough to get yourself killed before twenty, you’re better off dead. And that’s not you, Arthur.”

“You sure ‘bout that?” Arthur mumbled.

“Me and Dutch have things in the works to get us a score. And if you’re gonna be a goddamn idiot and draw attention to yourself, that’ll be the last time you’re involved in anything we do.”

“It weren’t even so bad,” Arthur complained. “How’m I supposed to know you got plans when you never tell me a goddamn thing? Why be a goddamn criminal if you can’t do what you want? Ain’t no point.”

“The point is to live through it, Arthur. Money’s no good to you if you’re dead. Now when we need to lie low, keep our noses clean, it’s because we got something big in the works, and we can’t risk the plans while we’re still layin’ tracks. You know that. You’re a hell of a lot of things son, but a complete fool ain’t one of ‘em.” Hosea dropped his cigarette and ground it out into the dirt. “Not one of us acts alone, boy. Part of runnin’ together means sacrificing your own selfish desires for the good of the group.”

“I know that,” Arthur grumbled.

“Well, it’s high time you acted like it.” Hosea flipped Arthur’s pistol out of his hand with a flourish, catching it by the barrel. He held out the grip toward Arthur. “Stay here a while,” he said. “Somethin’ tells me I need to talk down Dutch and Susan.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do?”

Hosea was already walking away. “I don’t quite care, son. Sit here and do nothing. Be still for once in your life.”

Arthur scowled and sighed, kicked up dust with his boot. For all the stealing and shooting Dutch and Hosea wanted him to do, they sure knew how to treat him like a goddamn idiot sometimes. Maybe the day would come when he could boss them around.

He looked in the direction of the setting sun, toward California where they had come from. There was always new country to explore, new people to rob, more money to be made, more sunsets to see. Every time Arthur leveled his gun at a man and made him act, or freeze, or die--it started a whole new adventure. Some were good. Some were great. Others he wished he could forget, and there were still more that had left him with scars and foul memories that endured well beyond what they should. For the past five years, Arthur Morgan had lived for sunsets like this one, and he couldn’t wait for a lifetime more.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfiction #teenage arthur morgan #hosea matthews #dutch van der linde #susan grimshaw #arthur is pretty insufferable ngl

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