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So i was feeling strangely horny this days and i did what any normal person would do. Called on my boyfriend? No. I wrote a completely new one shot of Gawain and Lancelot having sex without much lore instead of finishing the fic I'm writing.
One of them is a virgin.
And.
Gawain.
WIP Wednesday Saturday tag
Damn i completaly forgot to post this thing, school is eating me out alive. Anyways, thank you @lancedoncrimsonwings.
Things went by very quickly, months passed and it was already February. It was still damn winter, but everyone always tried to convince him that it wasn't that bad. And in the midst of the cold, the fey obtained resources and a willpower that Lancelot particularly envied and asked so that they could have a Lupercalia festivity. He remembers the three days of lupercalia where they held feasts for healing and fertility and drank with the fauns. It was also when lovers declared themselves to each other in a way he never forgot.
At the birth of Aphrodite or Venus, Goddess of love and beauty, she is created from sea foam and walked through the sand to find the other Olympians, consequently her symbol is a shell. Centuries ago, it was realized that when sand is exposed to a certain temperature, it crystallizes, and as Ashes have fire in their blood, handling this would not be as difficult just as with other metals.
Every Lupercalia celebration, couples or lovers go to the beaches, light a fire and look for the shell that most reminds them of their partner, and then return to their loved one's side. Then they gathered a handful of sand in their hands with the shell in the middle and heated it until the sand melted into a crystal. They made flowers with the crystal, usually the favorites of their loved ones, each one was unique due to the way it was made and the shell inside it, the shells were exchanged and then they spent the night celebrating and loving each other. On the next day, the previous year's flower was buried in the gardens or temples of goddesses related to love or fertility. They were called love-forges.
Many women appeared pregnant after the celebration. And in fact that's how he gained a younger brother.
When Lancelot was a child, he remembered seeing his father and two mothers making these flowers for each other and exchanging them among themselves, and then they decorated the house with them until the following year, where they buried them in the garden of the goddesses.
Now Lancelot is almost thirty years old and has never made a love-forge for anyone. He thought he would never do it until a jerk with green eyes came into his life last autumn.
Now the monk suddenly finds himself waking up at dawn and voluntarily going out in the cold to go to the nearest beach and walk along the sea coast looking for the shell that most reminded him of his best friend. But how could a single shell remind him of someone like Gawain? It wasn't possible. Gawain would never be someone who could be described in a single, small shell.
After a good few minutes of walking along the coast, Lancelot's eyes fall on something small, bright green that almost immediately reminds him of his best friend, and suspiciously to his stupid heart, desired lover.
A small, flat, chubby shell, with a spiral shape as captivating as his green eyes. Its color was a vibrant light green, the base was greener than its center, which was turning white, the marks caused by the spirals looked golden, and it was so beautiful in the moonlight that it made his heart beat faster. How could something so small remind him of such an important person? The shell did not remembered him any other than Gawain. It was only as perfect as him.
Lancelot takes the shell between his hands and returns to the sand, taking a small handful between his hands. His heart was racing too fast to be considered normal, but at least it kept him warm. He places the small shell in the middle, burying it with more sand and blowing fire several times, melting the sand until it forms a malleable crystal. His hands work to create the petals, round and large, leaving the shell in the middle.
He delicately made each petal, each one held something he liked about his friend, or a moment of them together. The smell of his hair, the captivating eyes holding him as he talks, the hands helping him put his clothes back on when his ribs were broken, the way their lips almost touch when they whisper secrets to each other, the stolen clothes and teasing at breakfast. Everything that reminded him of him as each round petal was placed delicately and slowly on a gardenia, a flower that signified secret love. He finishes the flower as in tradition, a kiss on the petals on the shell.
"What is that?" Suddenly Gawain's voice sounds behind him, scaring him and making him look over his shoulder to where the other man is looking at him. Gods, was he so distracted that he didn't hear or feel Gawain nearby?
“Just a flower. It was a tradition of my people and I wanted to do it now that I, well, came back.” He responds, the heart accelerating the closer Gawain comes, until he sits next to him, but much closer than is friendly permitted.
He turns his face away from the flower to look at Gawain, their lips almost touching for a moment and both men take a few seconds to compose themselves and stop looking at each other's lips. “Does it always end with a kiss like that?” Gawain whispered, sliding his eyes to the crystal gardenia in his friend's hand. "Yes." The other responds without turns.
The green-eyed man extends his hand, touching Lancelot's and holding the gardenia with him, and speeding up both their hearts even more. “May I?” He asks, and Lancelot nods, sure that he's talking about the flower, but is surprised when suddenly his best friend's lips are on his. It's just a peck, a press of lips, but it makes the blue-eyed man's brain stop and it takes a few seconds before he responds to the kiss with a press of lips of his own.
Gawain's lips were as soft as he imagined, and Lancelot knows that his marks are glowing with the amount of happiness and passion he feels in that moment. The kiss seems to last forever, even though it was only a few long seconds. They break the kiss, both looking at each other and again the other man is the first to speak. “We should get back to the tent, before you freeze from lack of heat.” The man nods and they both get up with each other's help, but Lancelot is surprised again when Gawain pulls him to his chest and whispers in his ear. “I’ll cuddle you all night so you don’t get cold.” Lancelot feels his marks glowing brighter, his cheeks heat up and he probably looks like a tomato judging by the way his love laughed triumphantly and walked away, while he stood still for a while before following him back to the camp with the flower in his hands.
That man was still going to give him a heart attack.
Here is the inspiration for the shell and what a gardenia looks like:
This was inspired by me and the person i like showing that we like each other through origami of our favorite flowers. My heart skipped a beat when they said that they have each of the lilies I gave them in a different house. And since Lancelot has no idea how to show love I decided to put this on him too.
Happy valentines day, also late.
I just got home from school. Here's a doodle i made até human rights class.
Lancelot!Weeping Monk Gawain!Green Knight
Inspired by a head-canon that me and partner made which Lancelot sleeps in underwear and no pants, and Gawain sleeps in pants and no shirt.
@lancedoncrimsonwings @dinogod
*Throw Lancelot homosexually thinking about Gawain at you and run.*
It’d been a month since NightPearl had adopted Lancelot as it’s mother. He didn't mind at all, in fact he found the little dragon adorable. It would sneak anywhere it could find, and its favorite place was his lap. The only problem was when it brought a dead rabbit in the tent and he had to throw it away, but other than that it was perfect.
On days like today, when he was lying on his back, NightPearl would come and sprawl on his chest, enjoying every fraction of Lancelot's natural warmth that it could get, while Lancelot caressed its long body and just listened to Squirrel’s nonsense or listened to Gawain's voice. He never really paid attention to what Gawain said, it was usually something boring about what the council was thinking about him or about his wounds, instead he paid attention to his voice, which was much more engaging than what was friendly allowed.
Sometimes Pym would make a joke about how Gawain would be jealous of NightPearl for being able to snuggle into Lancelot's chest while the two of them couldn't even sleep in the same bed. The monk always rolled his eyes and said it didn't make sense, even though his stupid heart beat a little faster every time he heard that. And thank God NightPearl didn't understand what the redhead was saying or it would bite Gawain from head to toe. He and Gawain barely saw each other, nor did they speak to each other properly, since talking was not something that Lancelot was taught to do often. It was not even part of his routine.
The world around Lancelot has never been so calm, and so boring. He was used to leaving very early, around six in the morning, half past six if he was feeling particularly lazy, and going to track the fey by tracks and scents. At ten o'clock he would return to camp and make an oral report of everything achieved, go to the fields to train for two hours, then go for lunch, have lunch, and leave again. After lunch he would go to the already tracked tribes, this time with a group of paladins, and would decimate and burn whatever they found. At sixteen hours he would escape from the rest of the paladins and take a secret bath to remove the excess dirt and blood that bothered his senses and skin. At seventeen o'clock he would be back at church and praying something particularly long, if it were Saturday he would pray a rosary, if it were Sunday he would be at mass. After mass, or pray, there is dinner, but if it were Saturday he would be fasting. Ten or nine o'clock at night he should already be in bed, because it's a few hours before Salt's torture sessions start and he would at least get a good rest if he slept earlier.
There is nothing in his routine about talking to anyone, except about reports and prayer, but only because it was part of his job and he should always seek God daily.
But now, with the fey, his entire meticulously memorized routine were thrown into the fifth of hells. Now his routine consisted of: Waking up, being forced by Gawain to eat breakfast followed by a lecture on why it’s important to eat every meal, then listening to Squirrel tell a story, lunch, Polly, actually now Pym, coming to check on his injuries. And now Pym stayed and told him about something that happened while she was with the Raiders or some new gossip at camp, which is strangely interesting. Squirrel arrives again, tells ‘em about his day. Gawain arrives with dinner for everyone, they talk and Lancelot is grateful for not being included, gods know how much he hates interacting while eating. Dinner ends, Pym and Squirrel go somewhere else, Gawain stays and cleans his injuries. They don't say anything, just stand there in the only alone moment they have. Gawain slowly cleans his broken skin with a wet cloth, his body closer than he had ever let any man or woman get close to him, he could hear his breathing behind him, The drops of water running down his back make him shiver, and he could feel Gawain's intense gaze on him the entire time. His careful hands went all over the length of his back before slowly pulling away. Gawain pulls away and tells Lancelot that it is ten o'clock, his usual bedtime. Lancelot turns and covers himself with the sheet that Squirrel stole for him on the first day, but that doesn't stop him from faintly hearing the other man change his clothes on the other side of the tent. The boots being thrown away, the shirt being taken off and discarded, the belt being left aside, the pants coming down his legs, as well as the new pants being put on, but no sound of the shirt being put on, Gawain did not sleep with his shirt on, and finally the sound of him laying down on the mattress and covering himself. He listens to every movement every night. Not that he was a pervert, he just had no option.
Now, NightPearl always comes and snuggles up to him, which makes his heart progressively slow down. God, what kind of demon did he come to live with to leave him like this? He would embarrass himself by the end of the year at this rate. Damn Gawain for having sounds so- NO! He couldn't think that! They are just tentmates, nothing more. Lancelot would curse Venus and Cupid before going to sleep, they are two motherfuckers for doing this to him.
And on his worst days, Lancelot would have an unwanted dream about those sounds. But the gods know he would rather cut his own tongue out than say that to anyone.
for data: Venus=Aphrodite; Cupid=Eros.
@lancedoncrimsonwings @dinogod
Yeah, the first thing i do when i open a custom character game it's do my favorite characters/new obsession, what so?
@lancedoncrimsonwings @dinogod
Also, I'm bored, so use this post to tag someone to share something about their favourite characters.
Pretty sure Lancelot is the type of boyfriend who would just steal their partner's clothes.
One random day Gawain wakes up and sees Lancelot wearing a colorful shirt and immediately realizes it's his shirt. Lancelot doesn't say anything, and Gawain doesn't say anything because he was trying to suppress his smile cause he think it's cute how his boyfriend steal his clothes.
"New shirt?" Gawain asks, still trying to supress the smile, and falling miserably. Lancelot gives him a glare, but doesn't reply his tease.
"Did you like the smell?" He tries again, giving up on hiding his smile and leaning against the wall.
"Smells like trash." The ash replies. But it was a lie, or pure sarcasm. He loved Gawain's scent and the knight could have an idea of that since his shirt was stolen.
Gawain rolls his eyes and comes closer to Lancelot "Sure It does." The man anwsers, kissing the ash cheek, and then his jaw, and finally his mouth.
@lancedoncrimsonwings i think you deserve to read some casual - which I don't usually post very much.
@dinogod ✨Gays of the round table✨
I was drawing.
I tried to make the face of Gawain, the green knight from Cursed.
I remember that I don't know how to draw faces and I fail miserably at making his face.
I want to kill myself and burn the drawing for this.
I remember he wears a helmet.
I put the helmet on him instead of having to draw his face and continue drawing as if I wasn't pulling my hair in pure rage just a moment ago.
I'm become happy till happend another incident. (Which hasn't happened yet)
Finally some good photos!
He looks like he doesn't to know what to do with his arms. He's like 63% tired and 37% angry. I love this man. Still pissed off abt the lack of pics, but i love him ❤️
Reblogging so I know where to look when I'm out of reference photos. Again. Which will be pretty soon.
Look for a full body photo of Matt Stokoe where you can ACTUALLY get a reference to draw, is equivalent to successfully reach the grail with zero sins being an Orkey.
This means that is basically impossible.
Belive me i tried. And It was a nightmare. I wanted to die and not have to draw anymore.
Look for a full body photo of Matt Stokoe where you can ACTUALLY get a reference to draw, is equivalent to successfully reach the grail with zero sins being an Orkey.
This means that is basically impossible.
Belive me i tried. And It was a nightmare. I wanted to die and not have to draw anymore.
I made another one and added some 'details' in pen. And I thought you might like to see it.
I did some of Squirrel as, well, a squirrel, too. But those are for tomorrow.
And i do not wanna do this same post twice so I'm tagging you again @gwalch-mei
Well ladies and gentleman, i fear everything i have to offer you - for now - is this really simple drawing of silly bear Gawain in his green knight's helmet. But literally.
And here's him whitout the helmet. The picture is linda bad, sorry.
@lancedoncrimsonwings
@gwalch-mei i don't know but my head is telling me you would like this for some reason
Well ladies and gentleman, i fear everything i have to offer you - for now - is this really simple drawing of silly bear Gawain in his green knight's helmet. But literally.
And here's him whitout the helmet. The picture is linda bad, sorry.
@lancedoncrimsonwings
@gwalch-mei i don't know but my head is telling me you would like this for some reason
Lancelot had been holding the little dragon on his lap for a few hours. The little animal made himself comfortable in his extra warm lap and he didn't have the heart to take him away. In the first few minutes, after the little creature invaded the tent, scaring everyone and making itself comfortable in his lap, Merlin tried to take the dragon off Lancelot's lap and received a hiss in response. And then Nimue did the same, and Morgana the widow of death herself tried, they called Gawain to try, everyone received a fierce hiss and a sharpening of the body that guaranteed the little thing wasn't going off of him anytime soon.
“Why?-” Gawain begins, but before the word is finished. “Don’t you understand that it is not going to leave his lap?” Yeva, who only leaves her space on rare or dangerous occasions, interrupts him. Surprising everyone and making them look at her. She speaks in a stern tone, perhaps a little rude if you listened properly, still giving away her advanced age.
“I didn’t expect younger ones to understand this, but an old man like you, with hundreds of years old, Merlin, should already know.” The elder moonwing enters the place, seeing the little dragon on Lancelot's lap, she approaches. The dragon looks at her with his big curious eyes, still defensive, and Lancelot looks at her as he would look at anyone other than Squirrel , with a neutral and bitterly serious face.
Yeva lifts her eyes from the dragon to look at Lancelot, her one good eye looking into Lancelot's blue eyes and the black marks that painted his face and under eyes. They seemed lighter now, an indication that he was happy, or at least lighter than usual. She hadn't visited Ashman in his entire stay here, despite being curious about him or how he came to end up in these lands.
She quickly understood what happened. The little dragon lost its mother, or lost from its mother. The bodies of these creatures are usually overly warm, and for their young, cozy. Exactly what the baby found in the Ashman, who also had a higher body temperature than that of any human or fey due to the fire coursing through his veins. The animal thought that Lancelot was its mother and the man didn't seem to notice, or if he did, he didn't care.
“You’re the mother.” Yeva said simply.
"I know." Lancelot responds, turning his eyes to the adorable little creature that was biting his finger, trying to show affection.
Nobody in the room understood anything. Except the two of them, and maybe Merlin. “What’s the name?” A thinner, more energetic voice asked out of nowhere. Squirrel had sneaked into the room and startled some with his sudden speech. Lancelot's expression changes when he sees Squirrel, from neutral to slightly affectionate, his face lighter and his marks becoming clearer with the sweet affection that everyone knew he had for the boy.
“NightPearl.” He responds, and the dragon looks at Lancelot, as if recognizing that he has received a name. Squirrel smiles and comes closer, despite Nimue trying to stop him from doing so. This time, the dragon doesn't hiss, it just turns its little head, analyzing its new brother.
Lancelot looks at Yeva for a moment, and they know they'll need to have a talk after everyone goes to sleep and they're alone. Which seems scary when she seems even crazier than him. But nothing that made him want to say no. The dragon still tries to bite his hand, squirming in his lap and making Lancelot smile.
“You’re smiling!” Squirrel points out, his face lit up seeing Lancelot smiling in ‘public’ for the first time and a big smile on his face.
“Yes, I am.”
@lancedoncrimsonwings that was your fault for influencing me with, uh... cute reptiles! That. You infected me with a love for reptiles, it's your fault that Lancelot and dragons can't get out of my head.
Random scenario cause yes
First, this is not my head-canon but Tavo's. I kind of had this- possibly incomplete - scenario for a good few days after I saw the head-canons' post, so I did this small thing.
Gawain was watching Lancelot train Squirrel in the morning as he regularly did, but something was different this morning. Another child was there, learning from Lancelot too, but he wasn't talking much yet, or maybe it was just Squirrel who wouldn't shut up.
As Lancelot distanced himself from the boys and gave them a break to drink water, he approached the knight and he finally saw the chance to ask something stuck in his mind.
“Who's the new kid? I don't think I've ever seen him around. Is he a new rescue?” he asks. Lancelot looked at him with furrowed eyebrows as he took a sip of water, which left Gawain confused. It was a valid question since it was not possible to remember every face in the camp, especially the newcomers. "What?"
The ashman continues to look at him with furrowed eyebrows, analyzing the knight's face as if looking for a joke, but finds nothing but confusion. “You… could say that.” He responds, still staring at the other man's face.
Gawain is even more confused by this and furrows his eyebrows as well. "How’s that?"
“Gawain… That child is my son, Galahad.”
Gawain's eyes widened upon hearing Lancelot's confession. He tilts his head to the side to see the child better. His eyes traveling between the so-called son of Lancelot and Lancelot, comparing the two. And they had basically nothing in common.
“That boy, small and pale, with red hair and no marks on his face, is your son?" The skyman asks in disbelief, still exchanging his gaze between the former monk and the child in the distance.
Lancelot licks his lips and sighs at hearing the questioning. "Yes. Galahad, small and less pale than me, with fire hair and no tear marks yet, is my son.”
“Are you sure you’re the father?” Gawain says immediately after Lancelot finishes speaking, eyes fixed on Galahad who was now finally speaking after Squirrel paused his talk for a moment.
The former monk gives the knight a hard look as soon as the question leaves his lips. Frankly, it wasn't the first time someone questioned his paternity in relation to Galahad, but it was still irritating every time he had this conversation.
Hearing the question coming from his best friend made his patience disappear in a blink of an eye. His next words came out harshly. “Yes, Gawain of Orkley, I am sure that I am the father. Because I was ab-” He stops mid-sentence, momentarily composing himself to change the words. “Because his mother slept only with me with the aim of getting pregnant. And it succeed.”
Gawain knew he had done something wrong when he saw Lancelot's marks suddenly turn darker, like wine. But hearing his full name and a rephrase mid-sentence was something else. He doesn't touch on the subject, though. He knows better than that and he knows that his best friend will talk to him if he wants and is ready. "Sorry. I didn’t mean to anger you by questioning Galahad’s paternity.”
“It’s fine, but do not do something like that again.” The ashman responds by calming his nerves again and drinking another sip of water.
“It’s just that you two don’t look-” He stops his sentence with his mouth open. Behind Lancelot, Galahad and Squirrel were playing, and Galahad raised his leg to the maximum doing a perfect split. Squirrel looked impressed, Gawain was scared and certainly eating his own words. “Forget it, I can see the resemblance now.”
The former monk finds it strange, but doesn't question it either. He says goodbye to the knight momentarily and returns to training the children.
Gawain had so many questions… But unfortunately that would have to wait. So he just leans against a tree and goes back to watch Lancelot train his two sons.
Gods, having to refer to Lancelot and Gawain as best friends killed me, on the other hand I put squirrel as his son too at the end as a compensation.
Again I should be resting because I'm sick, but here I am again. @lancedoncrimsonwings maybe I'll steal your head-canons more often, but you can't judge me, they're too good.
Lancelot likes to be the little spoon cause he feels safe and protected, but he also let's Gawain be the little spoon when he has a tiring day.
Also, Lancelot sleeps in the position with his leg hooked up. And slowly curls up into a ball everytime he has a nightmare, which is pretty often, and Gawain hugs him over since the beggining of the sleep, which esses Lancelot's nightmares.
Gawain loves to hug Lancelot from behind, cause, plus teaching him that not everything that comes from behind is a threat, he can smell Lancelot's hair and rest his face on his shoulder (the Gawain's actor is just one centimeter taller than Lancelot's actor in the series so that's easy.)
Lancelot, despite still having his guard up against anything that comes from behind, can smell Gawain from miles away and know when he's coming to hug him from behind and he lets it because he likes being hugged by him. It makes him feel safe because Gawain has strong arms and hugs him tightly. Gawain doesn't know any of this.
Gawain is a almost-bear type body and I won't go into detail about that.
Gringolet and Goliath meet and even with Gringolet's violent tendencies, they get along incredibly well. This was probably the first sign Squirrel read about how he was going to get two fathers by the end of the year.
Squirrel read the signs of their relationship before they did. Like that quote "How long have they been in love?" "Shh, They don't know." "What do you mean they don't know?!"
Lancelot has a tendency to self-harm with his own body - wounds made by nails and teeth - and Gawain has to help him to heal it. Lancelot always feels guilty and looks like a kicked pup, Gawain reassures and gives him love and tight hugs.
Squirrel was terrified when he discovered that Lancelot used knives to self-harm himself and since then Lancelot stopped using knives to do this and started using his own body. Gawain didn't approve and Squirrel started keeping an eye on him but at least he didn't cut himself anymore.
Gawain taught Pym to be a real healer after he heard about what happend in the Red Spear, as he himself was a healer. Lancelot saw the way they were intimate and how he taught everything to her and thought they were dating. When Pym found out she laughed her ass out and explained that they were like siblings and had nothing like that between them, since then it became an inner joke between them.
Every time Lancelot gets too much angry he speaks with a french accent or actually starts speaking french/mother language around the house. Gawain thinks that's hot but doesn't dare say it to him.
The first time that Lancelot's anger doesn't go away, Gawain shamelessly flirts with him, thinking that this will ease him a little, as happened with his former partners, actually Lancelot pins him against the nearest surface or just grabs him by the shoulder and takes him to the room and "takes control". Gawain thinks twice before doing that again now.
Lancelot learned to cook well to survive, so he cooks for Gawain and the others as a form of affection. "Let's make food together. (I'm the only one who cooks, you look cute in the corner. You don't know how to cook. Don't mess with my food.)"
@lancedoncrimsonwings
Maybe i'll do more after i finally get some sleep.
Sneak Peak! and no i'm not explaining this post
“That place is not just a reformatory, knight. They're gonna break his head.” The lady with honey eyes says. Her once happy eyes now fell into a sad and worried glass.
Gawain is confused by the stern words. "...What?" He asks in a state of confusion and disbelief. Gawain knew that the paladins were cruel and that they valued empty heads and blind pawns, but he didn't want to believe that they would have the courage to break that alredy broken blade that the weeping monk was and force him together again and the gods know how many more times.
“You heard me.” The woman says with a firm word. Her eyes finally returning to meet his. “We call that place the devil's nightmare house for a reason. It’s not difficult to connect two dots, knight.”
The devil's nightmare house...? Gawain feels his face grow cold and the color drain from his features with realization. A shiver passes through his body just for thinking about what led to a place having to name like that.
“He's not going to come back, Gawain.” The lady afirms again with a firm voice, her face now completely darkened. “And if he comes back, it won’t be him anymore."
The woman sighs, her eyes returning to the floor and they were now a red glass, trying hard not to cry. The knight couldn't even begin to understand the relationship between the lady and the monk, but they certainly had something. No one holds back their tears so much for someone they don not care about.
She forces a unamused smile, trying to ease the tension. “Think he'll only comes back if some crazy person dares to invade Devil's Nightmare and bring him back.” She jokes, getting up to leave. The nameless lady says goodbye and leaves the knight to his thoughts alone at night again.
…Maybe I am crazy enough.
@lancedoncrimsonwings
This is the result of a person who loves Cursed and Sabrina Carpenter. I couldn't resist, this was totally what Gawain wanted to say in this scene and you can't convince me otherwise.
Plus with the same song just because he looked extremely indignant in that same scene.
Song: Slim Pickins by Sabrina Carpenter
@lancedoncrimsonwings
Cursed X Epic musical
Something that makes sense in my head, but it's also too sad and accurate so i want to share with other people.
I was scrolling through my For You on Tik Tok and a video of a song from the Ithaca saga that wasn't released yet appeared. The song was Penelope's reunion with Odysseus, the last song of the whole musical. And then my Lancewain ass beats me with a: "This is totally Lancelot in every way."
Just listen. (Vídeo belongs to @_kodybread on tik tok)
This is clearly a Weeping Monk having a crisis and questioning his worth, and Gawain is there trying to assure him that despite everything he has value and is worthy of being loved, while hugging him with the greatest amount of force he can without hurting him because Lancelot does not have good mental health and despite the problems, physical contact is important to him when he is in crisis.
Lancelot is clearly crying in Gawain's lap, curled up in a shaking ball in his arms and lap, and questioning every little act of affection he and Squirrel show him cause he is an 'bloody and empty monster'. And then he releases the damned excerpt (obviously adapted from the song's lyrics):
"How could you fall in love whit me, again? If you know all i've done. The things i can not change... How could you love all the same? I know that you've been waiting... Waiting for love..."
And Gawain just hugs him tighter and lists all the reasons he loves him, and every reason he fell in love with Lancelot, the infamous Weeping Monk.
My heart is bleeding so it is my duty to make anyone who reads this post bleed too.
@lancedoncrimsonwings