#rainbowvamp

[j-wilson-md]

He loved me. And I loved him. I loved him. I loved him.

[fishfingersandscarves]

Just wanted to pop in and say your art is great and I hope you have a lovely day <3

thank you <333

[thebookluvrr1816]

Hi, just dropping in because you said in your tags Morgana/Lancelot is one of your favorite pairings, and there is so little content for them that I screamed. (but only on the inside.)

That's it. Just wanted to tell you you have great taste. Carry on. :)

omg HELLO 💖! I literally scream in frustration about the lack of morgcelot content too :''))) (also ksakskksasaklsa thank you! 🥺🥺🥺 you have great taste too hehehe💖💖💖)

and it's so sad that they interact so little in canon (I love the tiny scene we got during 1x05) (aand the shade! lancelot ep was a real mess I wanna cry :''( )

Just- they have so much POTENTIAL AND I LOVE THEM! *cries*

I'm glad you ship them too 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[mismaeve]

Hey girl! You posted a little ask game. I want the answer to number eight.

8. What quote really sums up how you’re feeling at this point?

HIIII! What a lovely surprise 💕 Thank you so much for the ask! It actually has to be this one:

“Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines, it’ll shine out the clearer.”

- Samwise Gamgee

[merlinbingo]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

A New Fondness by rainbowvamp Ship(s): Lancelot/merlin Main Characters: Merlin, Lancelot Rating: Teen Ao3 warnings: No archive warnings apply Summary: A moment in bed with Merlin and Lancelot. They both care for another, but find comfort together.

[j-wilson-md]

What a useless word.

[cuubism]

hi just came by to tell you I love your writing. that's all. <3

Aww thank you, you're so sweet! ❤

[wordsinhaled]

A never-sent letter from Hob Gadling to one Nameless, Beautiful Stranger by @rainbowvamp - thank you so much for kindly allowing me to transcribe this beautiful letter! it was a joy and i hope i did your gorgeous words some measure of justice <3

written with diamine oxblood ink & a turkey-feather quill on original crown mill laid paper. hob's seal is a tree of life, because of course it is. i imagine of course he tried to destroy this letter—threw it on the fire and, immediately regretting it as his words started to burn away, snatched it out before all could be lost—and this is how it is preserved in the library of the dreaming, for dream to find :')

(click to see details!)

other letters in this series

transcript:

Dear Nameless, Beautiful Stranger:

You sit across from me and I have the nearly irrepressible urge to reach across the table and lay a hand upon you. I wish to know if your skin is as cold as it looks. If your hair is soft to the touch. If your clothes are as fine as your manners or finer. I want to lay my head against your chest and listen to the beat of your heart. 

(Do you even have a heart? Does one such as you have a heart that beats like any mortal man or are you above such frivolities as lifeblood and souls?) 

I was to take your skin into my mouth, the taste of your fingers, shoulders, abdomen, lips. I want to memorize the smell of the inside of your thighs and the back of your neck. I want to know what your mouth feels like, what your breath tastes like, not just what they look and sound like.

I want to touch like I’ve never wanted anything, and I have wanted many, many things. 

I want to strip you bare and see your body. Worship you. I want to make you a king in my heart, prostrate below you, kissing your ruby, your ring, your feet. I want to feel your touch, your hands (will they be gentle?) against my skin, the back of my head, digging into my hair and gripping like ownership, like power.

(Take what power I have and make it yours. I give it to you freely and without coercion.) 

(Perhaps beauty is it’s own form of coercion, but I would never speak such blasphemy against you.) 

Make my eyes meet yours, give me the permission to look upon you as few others have. Eyes dark as night, but glittering with stars. Mouth soft and almost smiling. I cannot know if you are pleased or amused by me, but it doesn’t matter. A smile is a smile, whether it be with me or at my expense. I would sacrifice anything, everything to put just one upon your pink lips.

I don’t know if you’d be hot or cold. Fire or ice. Burning of one kind or another await me, I know. I am happy to have it, to burn for you, if it means that you may lay a single hand upon me, in friendship or in something else. Something other. That limbo space between lovers and friends where people meet but do not define themselves. I ache for your hands like I have never ached for another’s, but the simplest touch would subdue me. 

I would be yours if you would but ask it of me. 

I would never love again, if you would but accept my love, a gift intended (I know this now) only for you. I was built from stardust to love only you in a way that is more complex than the love of man, but still so much it’s mirror.

I ache to know what our skin feels like against each other. I long for the simplest, smallest contact. I long to reach across the table and touch your hand, and I don’t know if you know it. I hope that you do not know it. I hope you do know it. I want every part of you that you will give me, and I want to give every part of myself to you that you will take. 

My mouth begs to say a name you’ve never given me, on the tip of my tongue like a dream forgotten. 

I wish to know you like I have never been able to know another.

I content myself with meeting you, once every one hundred year, in the White Horse. I wish for you to once again be with me, for just a few hours out of my infinite life. Because a few hours of infinity, in the end, becomes an infinity unto itself. 

I will have you, in whatever way you will give yourself to me, until the end of time.

With eternal devotion,

HG