#gwaine x Lancelot

[artstelle]

Redraw of Liberty Guiding the People by Delacroix. A pride themed version.

Both for my redrawing of a famous piece square and June bonus badge of @merlinbingo

One pride art was not enough obviously.

Art by @artstelle

[nivellesart]

Gwaine and Lancelot on a date that does not go well. First, Gwaine not only almost set his kitchen on fire while cooking, but the tomato sauce explodes all over the place, forcing them to go out to have dinner. When they come back, the electricity is gone and they have to rely on candles for light.

For the @merlinbingo​ prompt I2 - Gwaine/Lancelot

I spent so much time on the background, so here are some details:

The bookshelf in the background, containing mostly travel related books as well as a mostly dead plant. The “Perilous Quests” book is a hiking trails/geocaching tour guide and was a birthday gift from Leon. So far, they have completed seven of them mostly uninjured (except when Gwaine got stung by bees).

The candles were partially stolen from restaurants, taken from family celebrations, and a lot of them were gifts from Gwaine’s sister. She gives him candles whenever she needs to gift him something. Most of them smell really strongly, which is why they are stored in a box labeled “Don’t open”. For this emergency, they have chosen the least intense candles.

One of the candles is the Yankee Candle Mountain Lodge candle. You know, the one that allegedly smells like Chris Evans. (Yes, I will reference my other fandoms when I’ve got the chance. On that note, you will a reference to Die drei ??? in the book title “Rocky Beach Tours” and also “Persuasion” by Jane Austen, which is one of my favourite books despite me apparently being unable to spell it correctly, as I just realised.)

On the fridge are magnets in the shape of apples, a piece of cake, a Pendragon dragon, a ghost, and a knight. They hold up two flyers from Gwaine’s favourites, one is called “Pizza & More”, and a picture of Merlin having fallen asleep over a book.

[mobycotton]

Philosophy of the Blade -- a Gwainecelot canon compliant fic

Ever wonder what Gwaine and Lance were up to while they were both banished?

Rated E for eventual smut

[knightofmordred]

gwaine and lancelot are so lana del rey coded

[glass-frogs-and-dragons]

I'm very fond of you

Gwaincelot week day 2- candlelight, only one bed.

Warnings: Mentioned child abuse.

Summary: Gwaine is afraid of the dark and can't sleep. Lancelot is afraid of his dreams and can't sleep either. They meet each other, as always, halfway.

Gwaine shivered. The cold that had seeped into his bones earlier that day had yet to leave his body. No matter how many blankets he dumped onto himself he never quite managed to get rid of that freezing, nauseating sensation or the stench of mildew and perfume that always hung around him on nights like these, fuelled with nightmares. A weak flame flickered from the quickly melting candle, ever present in Gwaine’s nights, painting the room with long-faced spectres and distorted shadows. They didn’t jeer at him anymore, but now they merely stared, sombre and melancholic.

Gwaine couldn’t stand it anymore. 

He crawled out of bed, huffing before turning the small mirror he had on his table towards the wall. He didn’t need a mirror to tell him he looked awful, thank you very much. Then, after getting dressed, he snuck out of his room and across the corridors. Moving from lamp to lamp as to not stay in the darkness for too long, he clumsily made his way towards the only person who wouldn not judge his panicked eyes and who would most probably be awake at this hour.

Lancelot’s door always creaked when it opened, and there was a floorboard just in front of it that was slightly loose. Gwaine skillfully avoided it and opened his friend’s door  as slowly as he could. When he walked inside,  after closing the door behind him, he found that the other man was not in his bed. He didn’t want to call out, so he waited with baited breath until…

A lamp flickered to life. Gwaine turned to face the light, purposefully ignoring how the tension bled from his body, to face his friend. Lancelot, despite his deep eyebags and pale face and panicked eyes, looked beautiful. Candlelight kissed his face the way a long-time lover would: soft, careful and flattering.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He rasped out. 

“Cold,” Gwaine answered. “You?”

Lancelot merely hummed in response and placed the lamp on the bedside table, then opened his arms and waited for Gwaine to curl up around him. The other man didn’t hesitate to do just that. 

“Nightmares,” Lancelot whispered into Gwaine’s hair.

Gwaine hummed and buried his head in the crook of Lancelot’s neck, holding him even tighter if at all possible.

“Come here, let’s go to bed.” 

They both crawled inside the covers and lay on Lancelot’s bed, legs tangled together and with Lancelot’s head on Gwaine’s collarbone, like they had done countless times before.

“I felt it again today, when I fell into that lake," Gwaine began. "I wasn't able to move. It was like my stepfather-"

"The bastard," Lancelot supplied helpfully, making Gwaine chuckle.

"He was grabbing me again, holding me underwater and lifting my head and dunking it again and lifting and dunking and lifting and-"

"Gwaine," Lancelot called.

He hadn't noticed the tears rolling down his cheeks until Lancelot wiped them with his thumb. Long after they were gone, Lancelot's thumb was still there, still wiping away as much of Gwaine's hurt as he could. 

"Thanks,"

"Well, we have each other, right? Get us out of our own minds when it gets a little too dark in there."

"Yeah… I suppose."

They stared at each other for a bit longer, letting the warm, dim light of the candle bathe their faces. The reflection of the flame flickered in Gwaine's eyes, but Lancelot's eyes sparkled all the same. 

Gwaine wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline, the fears still coursing through his veins, the cold in his bones or the burst of affection that had overtaken him that made him kiss Lancelot. And yet, the fact remained that he did. It was nothing but a quick peck, but it seemed to shock Lancelot to the core; Gwaine scuttled back, the fear that had left his eyes from the moment the candle was lit had returned full-force. This time, however, it ended quicky. Lancelot grinned and dived back in and Gwaine melted.

Bright sparks in a pink haze took over Gwaine's mind and, just like that, the darkness residing inside Gwaine drained away: he was in peace, if only for a night..

"It took us some time," Lancelot smiled in the near darkness.

"It would have taken us longer still if I hadn't been so out of it."

"You mean you didn't want to-"

"Wait, no. I did, don't get me wrong! It's just… I'm shyer than it seems at first glance, I suppose. I care about you, you're my friend first and foremost, and nothing can or will change that, really."

Lancelot ran his fingers through Gwaine's hair to disguise how they were trembling. It didn't work.

"What is it, love? What happened?" Gwaine asked sweetly.

"I had the same dream again."

"Of you dying?"

Lancelot swallowed and exhaled a shaky breath.

"I came back this time, but I came back… wrong, I guess. I felt feral, I only saw red. But… but when I tried to gain control of myself and talk to you, because somehow I knew that you would bring me back on track, you just… you didn't know me, Gwaine. You smiled at me but it wasn't you, it was the smile you give other nobles and people who don't know you. And… I, I guess I didn't know how to cope with it."

"I wouldn't be able to cope with your 'noble' smile either, sunshine," Gwaine teased, but the underlying comfort in his voice overpowered it all.

"Excuse you! I'm not called the Noble Knight for no reason, you know?"

"You're a right bastard, Lancelot. And a chaotic one at that," Gwaine grinned and both mischief and the candle flame flickered in his eyes. "Perhaps that's why I'm so fond of you."

Lancelot chuckled and wrapped himself around Gwaine once again.

"I'm very fond of you too, Gwaine. I really am."

[merlinswizardhat]

do you think lancelot and gwaine met in their cage fighting days

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

Gwaine: it’s like Merlin always says: If at first you don’t succeed, it’s only attempted murder.

Arthur, the skeptic: Merlin? Merlin always says that?

Lancelot, wiping a tear: Inspirational.

[hey-im-okay]

So do we just all agree that the knights absolute love Merlin the way cat owners love their cats?

Knights, holding up Merlin from under his arms: so this is Merlin and he’s so nice and we love him.

Merlin: *is actively breaking the law by existing* *has literally killed people* *drops branches on peoples heads* *and even tried to kill the king*

Knights: he’s just a funky little guy :)

I would even bet money he knocks glasses off tables when he wants to annoy someone (Arthur-)

[tiredcowboyy]

I always find the posts/fics where leons just so over witnessing merthur pining so funny. Like that man really had to see them from the start and the tension between them grow and he just had to sit and watch. Like I imagine every time a new knight joined they all brought the weird vibes up and leon each time was more and more over it.

Like it stared w lance early on being like

Lance: hey leon, is it just me or are arthur and merlin lowkey pining for each other

Leon: oh thank god! Someone finally brought it up, yeah theyve been like this for a while-

But then ended up as

Percy talking to the knights as they watch merlin and arthur bicker (read: flirt): ok but, does it seem like theyre fli-

Gwaine, sounding exhausted: yeah theyve been like this for a while

Percy: really? And theyve still not done anything about it?

Leon the long suffering, whose now had to watch them for almost 10 years: *eye twitch* nope.

Edit: just gonna leave these screenshots here

[exyzedd]

i cannot believe he is the once and future king-he is so dumbass :''')

[morganadeservedbetter]

Merlin: God, if only someone loved me… Arthur: standing behind them with a wedding ring roses Freya: holding box of chocolates Gwaine: has balloons Gwen: holding out a flower crown Mordred: has a card Morgana: bringing him special books Lance: literally just dropped everything he was doing because Merlin needed help carrying things Gaius: facepalms This is sad.

[historicalfictionenthusiast]

I started watching Merlin under the assumption that I’d get some fun history nerd moments and that Merthur was just another fannon mlm ship with little canonical basis but HOLY SHIT I’ve literally seen cannon straight couples with less sexual tension than whatever the fuck those two had going on.

[chronicowboy]

just merlin and unraveling by the crane wives

[mobycotton]

Philosophy of the Blade - Chapter 2: Ten Paces

Gwaine was never one to leave a question unanswered. He couldn’t sleep, eat, drink, never mind fight without knowing the clear and true answer. He let men have their secrets, he wasn’t one to kill mercilessly like that. But he needed to see their eyes first to make sure they had one. So far he hadn’t been disappointed.

But there was something about the restrain with which this man fought. He didn’t give his name in the tournament for him to ask around about, but he had tried. People told him that he’d been there before, and won as easily as he did today, but none would say his name even if they knew it. Like he was disgraced in their eyes. But he entertained nonetheless, claimed his prize and moved on again and again. He counted the weeks in his head. They must have been in this town at the same time this same spring. How could he forget such a fighter? Perhaps they never fought. Gwaine remembered every one of his opponents.

For the first time, Gwaine rode against the wind’s instruction. It had blown him away from Camelot. He found himself facing that city and its sins once more. It wasn’t long, though, before he reached the final obstacle, a hill he remembered recently struggling up on the way back, and could only guess at how Merlin got him there while unconscious. Now, there was a man with secrets. It was like he was living the life of ten people like that, all his unsaid things cowering behind his lips, begging to be let out with the slip of the tongue or even a glance in the wrong direction.

In his distraction Gwaine missed a large speck waiting stagnant at the foot of the hill ahead. Standing, waiting. He squinted as he picked up speed, the heavier wind through his hair almost tugging him away, only adding to his intrigue. Who is this man who had the wind in his favour now? And the dust of the battlefield, Gwaine was sure he was stirring it in his vision with deliberation. But Gwaine had seen magic before, many times. There was a fine and blurry and often wavering line between magic and skill. They were, he once though, one and the same. If only he could have searched in his eyes for evidence to steer him one way or the other. To give him guidance, a choice, which was always nice to have in life. God knows he wouldn’t know what to do if everything was set in stone.

...

read more

chapter 1

[phd-in-bears]

Arthur: Tonight, one of you will betray me

Merlin: Is it me, Arthur?

Arthur: No, it’s not you.

Gwen: Is it me, Arthur?

Arthur: No, it's not you.

Morgana: Is it me, Arthur?

Arthur: ...

Arthur, mockingly: Is IT mE aRtHUr?

[glass-frogs-and-dragons]

I'm a fool to hope

Gwaincelot week day 5- stare, jacket

Warnings: alcohol consumption

Lancelot was staring. Gwaine was laughing and drinking and joking around and Lancelot was staring. At first he didn’t really know what the hell he was doing, going to the tavern with the others, but they had managed to trade his guard duty with another knight and had dragged him there. Nursing his drink (because someone had to be alert and sober just in case), he spent his evening looking around. And, of course, his eyes returned to Gwaine.

Gwaine, with his long hair and his playful hazel eyes and the freckles dusting his cheeks and the mischief in his smiles. From the day they had met during the attack of the Immortal Army, he had been on edge around the other man. He had been usnure as to why for a long time, but recently he had realized that-

“You cold, Lancey- Lance?”

Gwaine was now in front of him grinning cheekily, drunkenly, but with a glint of concern twinkling in his eyes. Perhaps it was that which drew him in. It was too late when Lancelot noticed that he was shivering.

“Don’t call me that.”

“I guess it’s kinda drafty,” Gwaine continued, ignoring Lancelot. “I mean, you haven’t asked for another pint since you got the first one. Can’t be too warm, then. Can you?”

“I suppose,”

And, before he knew what Gwaine was doing, a warm jacket was draped around his shoulders. Instinctively, he adjusted it so it wouldn’t fall off, then raised his glass at Gwaine as a sign of thanks. The grateful smile he received in response kept him staring, even when Gwaine wasn’t staring back anymore.

~ooo~

Gwaine was staring. Lancelot was carefully avoiding his eyes every time he caught the other man looking at him while nursing his drink and with his jacket wrapped around him and Gwaine was staring. He knew that Lancelot had been more than reticent about going to the tavern with them and yes, perhaps he did feel a little guilty about convincing the others to bring Lancelot along, but he wanted to talk to him in private. And, for the time being, he was not achieving this.

Gwaine had not always liked Lancelot. At first, he seemed like a goody-two-shoes, a priss, a perfect little soldier who follows orders without thinking, the paragon of nobility. He frustrated Gwaine. The man was not of noble blood but had wished to be one of them so badly despite multiple rejections that it had only increased his holier-than-thou attitude; and that infuriated Gwaine to unimaginable lengths.

Then he learnt what Lancelot had done to achieve his status as a knight. He learnt of the cheating, of the tricking, of the cage-fighting and the blood, and all with that passive-agressive (but never impolite) smile on his face. His respect for him grew tenfold there and then. Had he known how chaotic the curly-haired knight was from the start and how damn well he hid it, he would have fallen for him much, much sooner.

So Gwaine was staring.

He still wasn’t quite sure why he had given Lancelot his jacket, but he had seen the other man shiver the one time their eyes met and his lack of filter had taken over. He supposed that the shivers being from the cold were much better than the alternative; Gwaine’s heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

He wasn’t ashamed to admit that the main reason he was drinking was to gain the courage to speak to him properly. He hadn’t counted on Lancelot’s eyes following him all night. An all-too familiar feeling bubbled in his gut, threatening to spill over alongside his laughter, but he did his best to force it out: no use hoping if he wasn’t prepared for disappointment. 

“Hey Lance!” He called, and it was clear to him there and then that his brain to mouth filter had turned in for the night. “According to our dear friends here, I’ve had enough to drink. Join me outside?”

Some people whistled, many with mischief in their smiles, but Gwaine paid no mind to them. Hoping Lancelot wouldn't mind too much (he couldn't tell with the blush coating his face), he winked before walking outside. The cold air of the night immediately sobered him and the bubbling pit of hope that had taken hold of him inside the tavern had frozen into a solid block of dread.

"Gwaine," Lancelot called.

"I hope I wasn't too forward, Lance," He tried with a smile, but it never reached his eyes. "You did look quite uncomfortable overall, and I hope…"

"No."

Gwaine frowned and tilted his head.

"I think… you're going to…" Lancelot opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure and remorseful, but carried on anyway as gallantly as he could. "You like me, do you not? And you're going to tell me now,"

Gwaine chuckled but looked away. Staring, as much as he might want to, was not Gwaine's best bet. As stupid and pointless as it may be, he still held out hope. Was that a fool's hope?

"Am I that transparent?" He tried to smile.

He was baring his feelings: for the first time they were not merely being reflected in his eyes, in his stare: they were falling from lips alongside his heart.

"No. I just… I saw it in your eyes."

"And what do you say, then?"

Lancelot was silent and, for the first time, when Gwaine looked at him he wasn't looking back.

"Come on, I'm baring my heart out for you here. This isn't-"

Lancelot fought to keep his voice steady and his eyes dry. He counted his breaths in and out, in and out. And finally…

"No, Gwaine. My answer is no."

Gwaine's eyes widened and his hopeful grin broke into a blank, fake one.

"Oh. I-" He swallowed. "I hope… Well, I mean, we can still-"

But Lancelot didn't seem to have heard. He was struggling with words, trying his best to let his thoughts leave his mind like Gwaine had done.

"I didn't mean- I meant, not now. Not while you're like this."

"What?"

"Look, Gwaine. It's not that I doubt you, but… I've had bad experiences with this already,"

Gwaine didn't understand what Lancelot was trying to tell him, but then the other man's arms were around him and he was pulling him into a hug, taking this chance to whisper into his hair:

"Go to bed, Gwaine, sleep it off. Tell me tomorrow when you're sober, yes?" 

And the cracks in his voice, the whispers, the closeness, the intimacy, it all made Gwaine understand. He didn't need to look into his eyes to see it. So he melted into Lancelot's arms and Lancelot welcomed him there.

"If I do, will the answer change?"

"Perhaps,"

"Then I will. I'll ask you tomorrow."

Despite not being able to see it, Gwaine could feel Lancelot's smile against his skin, and he closed his eyes.