#bbc merlin lancelot x you

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

Merlin: So that’s why it’s my destiny to protect Arthur.

Lancelot: I’m sure the basement dragon was very convincing, but that still doesn’t seem like a reason to stay where your very existence is a literal crime.

Merlin: Have you seen Arthur yet?

Lancelot: No?

Merlin: *gestures to the window overlooking the training field to see Arthur with his gold hair and blue eyes looking pretty*

Lancelot: Oh. Understandable. Out of curiosity, where can I get a destiny?

[akelafang]

Arthur and Merlin yelling at each other just off the training field. Lancelot: What's going on? Gwaine: Mum and Dad are fighting again. Lancelot: Who's winning? Gwaine: Who do you think? Lancelot: My money's on Merlin Leon: Back to training you two Gwaine: Oh come on Leon! Don't tell me you're not the least bit curious?! Leon: Whatever disagreements that arise between our king and his consort are none of our business. Gwaine: *pouting* You're no fun. Leon: Besides, everyone knows mu- I mean Merlin always wins

[gldnstrngs]

a preview of my fic that i desperately need to finish:

“You see, I am betrothed,” Arthur said, making everyone look at him with wide eyes.

Lord Alaric blinked once. And then twice. He didn’t stop blinking after a few seconds. “My lord?” he questioned politely, glancing at the others.

There was a part of Arthur that wanted to laugh at their gobsmacked faces, but that wouldn’t be very kingly of him, so he cleared his throat with an assertive nod. He grabbed Merlin’s hand from his lap, feeling him stiffen slightly. Arthur squeezed it gently, stroking with his thumb. He then placed their interlocked hands on the table, so everyone could see. “I am to marry Lord Merlin.”

It was safe to say that there was a… range of reactions, if you will.

Morgana ended up staring at him and Merlin quietly, her eyes flicking back and forth between them to the point that it was even making Arthur’s eyes hurt. Gwen had let out a high-pitched sound through tight lips, doe eyes wide. Lancelot had promptly spat out his wine. Leon had done the opposite, chugging his wine from his goblet. Elyan solemnly slid over some gold coins to Gwaine, who had been smirking—and, okay, Arthur going to have to have a word with them about betting on their king—and pocketing his earnings. Percival had been teary-eyed, using a handkerchief to dab at his tears. Gaius stared at the couple with an intensely raised eyebrow, while Geoffrey had a hand to his heart in a way that Arthur couldn’t tell was heartfelt or scandalized. And Merlin was gripping onto Arthur’s hand, gaze boring onto the table and ears turning bright red.

update:

so i finally published it heheheh

[justaz]

merlin who grew up in a small village and only having one (1) friend growing up (will) and them two being thick as thieves and not making friends with anyone else so they have like no boundaries and they eventually begin to court without really knowing what they’re doing but just knowing that they’re super close and care for each other deeply but not being able to put a name to what they are. which in turn leads to merlin growing up thinking that like spending 24/7 together, holding hands everywhere you go, staring into each others eyes and at each others lips, cuddling at night even when it’s boiling hot, and kissing is normal in platonic friendships which leads to a LOT of misunderstandings and miscommunication when he gets to camelot.

[ambriel-angstwitch]

Gwaine: Merlin, you can't do this to me, I'm your hottest friend-

Gwaine: Wait, no that's Percy.

Gwaine: I'm your nicest friend-

Gwaine: No, that's Lancelot.

Gwaine: I'm your friend!

[specialagentlokitty]

Lancelot x reader - all the flowers in the world

Hope you've been doing well and keeping hydrated😄. Glad to see that your requests are open again. I was wondering if I could request a BBC Merlin Lancelot x reader with this prompt "If I had a flower for every time I thought of you… I could walk through my garden forever." from your 2024 prompts part 2? Of course you don't have to if you don't want to. Also if you do write this, take as long as you need. Thank you🧡 - Anon 💜

You were walking along one of the trails, it’s was quiet, peaceful, and you were also using this time to collect some plants both for medical use and for food use as well.

Despite being told many times by not only Merlin and Lancelot but by every other knight as well and even Arthur, you still went out by yourself because you found it easier to find the peace in things when you weren’t worrying about other people or having to be quick.

You loved to just wonder.

However, you knew you weren’t really alone out there.

Despite his best attempts to stay hidden, it was clear as day that Lancelot had been following you to keep an eye on you.

Multiple times you had seen him, and once he near ran straight at you when you had tripped up on some tree roots, but caught yourself.

Kneeling down in a patch of wild mushrooms, you began to carefully looking over them, only picking a select few that were safe and ripe to eat.

Lancelot leant against a nearby tree as he watched over you, his hand on his sword ready to defend you at a moments notice as he had too.

“Lancelot?” You called out.

Said knight freezes, unsure if he should reply or not.

On one hand if you needed help he wanted to help you, but on the other you wanted to come out here alone and he wasn’t sure if you actually knew he was there or just heard a noise and assumed it was him.

After a moment of internal debating he walked over and knelt down next to you.

“What is it? Are you okay?” He asks softly.

Turning your head to him, you hold up a small blue flower with a bright grin to him.

Lancelot stares at your for a few seconds before he softly smiles at you, taking the flower from your hands to look at it.

“It’s beautiful…” he says softly.

“It suits you.”

This makes him laugh softly, and he tucks the flower behind his ear, smiling warmly at you.

“Well thank you (Y/N).”

Grinning at him again, you go back to picking some wild mushrooms and Lancelot just stays knelt next to you, his gaze never leaving your face.

Standing up, you carry on walking and this time Lancelot walks alongside of you, offering you his arm so you wouldn’t trip over again and so that he could keep you close.

Looping your arm with his, you rest your hand on his forearm.

“You know you aren’t supposed to come out here alone.” He speaks quietly.

“I know, it’s just nice to escape all the hustle and bustle of life at Camelot.”

Lancelot hums his head in understanding.

“I understand that, but you knew we worry about you coming out here alone, I worry about you coming out here alone. it’s hardly safe.”

“I know, but I’m so used to if you come, then the others come, and they’re never quiet, as much as I love everybody sometimes they start to become a headache.”

Lancelot laughs slightly and he nods his head.

“Believe me, I know.”

Lancelot glances down at you before he goes back to watching the trail. If you stopped he would stop and keep a watchful eye over you.

Every so often you would gather a few more ours to scatter along his chainmail, tucking the stems into the small gaps in the links.

Lancelot couldn’t help but smile as you did this.

"If I had a flower for every time I thought of you… I could walk through my garden forever." You say quietly.

Lancelot’s eyes widen slightly, but his smile never falters.

“You really think about me that much?”

You nod your head.

He pauses, making you stop as well and walks in front of you, placing his finger under your chin to tilt your head up towards him.

“If I had a flower for every time I thought of you, the whole world would be covered in beautiful flowers…” he whispers.

His smile is warm and he moves his hand to cup your cheek.

“You would be much more beautiful than an amount of flowers…”

Your smile matches his, and he can’t help but smile even more, running his thumb along your cheek.

“Will you let me court you…?” He whispers.

“I would love nothing more…”

His face immediately lights up and he carefully pulls you into a gentle hug which you quickly reciprocated.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad that he decided to come with you after all

[bisclavret]

what SICKO wrote the last scenes between gwaine and merlin is what i want to know. because even lancelot's last episode with merlin - which had to have been intentionally gay-coded since it's obvious the man is grappling with his feelings for merlin morphing from platonic to explicitly romantic - is still subtext because he doesn't have the tools to healthily express his feelings so he goes for the biggest romantic gesture he can think of: sacrificing his life to save a loved one. the writers also make sure to root this gesture back to gwen by adding a scene where she's inadvertently asking him to make that sacrifice first, so although it's very obvious that it's more for merlin than for gwen that lancelot dies for, she is there to add some plausible deniability, thus keeping his sexuality within the realms of subtext.

i don't want to delve too deeply into arthur's last scenes with merlin as there is both so much to unpack about what they mean to each other and there is also somehow nothing left to say that hasn't been said before. my point is just that there's so much at stake that if the viewer doesn't want to deal with the romantic subtext between them they can hang onto the 38 other dynamics merlin and arthur have represented to each other that the writers spent 5 years plastering on top of the gay subtext. basically, while the romance feels textual emotionally-speaking, it isn't "canon".

i don't mean to say that any relationship is better than another (even though i obviously have a preference) but that in gwaine's final scenes with merlin there's just no subtext anymore. his becomes the most explicit expression of romantic love towards merlin, and therefore the most explicit acknowledgment of homosexual love and the existence of queer people on the show:

it starts out with merlin suggesting that gwaine saved a girl from the saxons and then looked after her because he has a more than platonic interest in her, and they show us that merlin is right - gwaine and the girl eira slept together - even as gwaine half-heartedly denies any interest (which, why even deny it? merlin saw them holding hands! unless the lie is part of the point). then in that very same scene and directly after this exchange, merlin needs rescuing from the saxons, calls after gwaine, and gwaine performs the exact same role for him that he performed for eira: he saves him from the saxons and looks after him (for as long as merlin lets him).

the parallel between merlin and eira with such quick cause and effect (it literally all happens within the same minute) is where the shift from subtext to text becomes undeniable. yes, there have been other moments on the show where a character's affections towards two different genders are beat-for-beat the same, but, again, there has always been plausible deniability. in this case the parallel is meant to be taken at face value: the core point of it is to show us how gwaine expresses his attraction.

then, the dialogue they chose to bookend this scene with takes it a few steps further by functioning as a textual love confession to merlin himself: the scene opens with gwaine thanking merlin for everything he did for eira, and merlin saying that there is no need to thank him as it was the least he could do. a minute later, after merlin thanks gwaine for protecting him from the saxons as both merlin and the show just concluded gwaine did for eira for romantic reasons (even as he denied it by outright lying), gwaine parrots what merlin said when gwaine thanked him: no need to thank me, merlin, it's the least i could do.

but this comes off as the opposite of dismissive: in fact, this echoing of merlin's words is meant to jolt both merlin and the audience. by saying this right after saving merlin from the saxons, gwaine has now intentionally pointed merlin's attention towards the explicitly romantic parallel between himself and eira. gwaine is directly implying he just did for merlin what merlin correctly deduced he did for a woman because he desired her sexually and romantically, and he is using merlin's own words to challenge him into seeing past the initial flimsy lie that there is nothing between them. and what's behind the lie, of course, is that gwaine has done all of this and more because he desires merlin sexually and romantically. the camera even lingers on merlin, allowing him and the viewer to absorb what just happened. that for as long as we have known gwaine, his motivations have always boiled down to "i want to be there for merlin". and now both the audience and merlin finally know for sure what was motivating him the entire time.

what's more, by using merlin's own dismissive words, gwaine also implicates merlin's penchant for repression and denial and never allowing himself to be given credit where it's due. this unfortunately never properly gets dismantled on the show, but this moment shows that gwaine knows merlin well enough to know that he goes above and beyond for people, and that merlin's reasons for this ring as false to gwaine's ears as gwaine's reasons for saving damsels do to merlin. it also bittersweetly implies that gwaine has accepted that these are the platonic, repressed terms on which he can have a relationship with merlin. but i think the way in which he explicitly points all of this out to merlin is meant to imply that he isn't entirely happy about having to accept that. or, to circle back to eira, that merlin seems to be cheering for him to enter a heterosexual relationship when gwaine would clearly rather be with him.

what's additionally interesting to me about this is that this is one of the only scenes on this show that touch on same gender attraction that isn't using magic as a metaphor - because merlin doesn't have magic at the moment, yes, but also because gwaine is the more active character in this sequence, and he's an adventure hero, so he simply fights the bad guy to protect the person he loves. there is no metaphor to wrap this in, so he just gets to explicitly state his bisexuality. in the next scene, the very last one he and merlin share, it all becomes about magic again, which is both representative of merlin's sexuality and the show's "plausible deniability" approach to gay-coding, and so neither gwaine or merlin are permitted to acknowledge it. also, and this is for another post altogether, but all things point to "gwaine knew". not least because he gets to come out as queer without the complications of the magic-as-gay-metaphor which in turn emboldens him to ask merlin for the truth as directly as the metaphor-suffocated narrative will allow it.

tldr gwaine textually and canonically expresses and then confesses his feelings to merlin in a shockingly well-written and layered scene which makes gwaine the most explicitly queer character on bbc merlin and it's entirely because he exists outside the magic-as-gay-metaphor plot while loving someone who embodies that entire metaphor and it's crazy to me that we don't talk about this more. once again i ask what SICKO wrote this and where were they for the entire rest of this fucking show

tldrtldr at least gwaine is bi. its like i always say. at least gwaine is bi. at the end of the day. gwaine is bi. dont cry ok? gwaine is bi. at the end of the day. gwaine is bi. when all else fails. gwaine is bi. we'll always have. gwaine is bi

[hoarder-of-dragons]

Merlin: I'm sad

Arthur: I AM HERE WITH MY ARMS OPEN FOR ANYONE TO HUG

Gwaine: MERLIN I WILL FUCKING KILL THE PERSON TELL ME THE NAME OF THE PERSON WHO MADE YOU SAD

Morgana: OH THEY'RE DEAD

Gwen: FUCK YEAH

[adhd-merlin]

in all ways but one

Relationships: Arthur/Lancelot; background Arthur/Gwen Rating: Gen Length: 2,500 words Summary: The homosexual side of the classic Arthurian love triangle, featuring jealousy, repressed bisexuals, and Unresolved Sexual Tension. Literally just this:

(x)

Excerpt:

It's all easy enough to ignore, at first. A lingering glance here, a fond smile there – things easy to brush off and hard to notice, unless someone were looking for the signs. Arthur notices.

***

"In all ways but one, Lancelot was a man of honour." — Arthur in episode 4x09 (Lancelot Du Lac)

After Lancelot gets knighted for the third time, and for the first time properly, there is still a certain awkwardness between him and Gwen. From the sidelines, Arthur watches them soldier on and ignore it for the sake of courtly manners, and probably for his sake, too. That which resolve has started, time finishes, slowly wearing away the thin layer of stiff formality between them.

Given he loves them both, Arthur should be glad of their rediscovered friendship. Sometimes he is. Other times, he has to remind himself to be.

***

It's all easy enough to ignore, at first. A lingering glance here, a fond smile there – things easy to brush off and hard to notice, unless someone were looking for the signs. Arthur notices.

He trusts them both with his life, which is why he says nothing. Gwen acts with the ease that only a guilt-free conscience can grant, and Arthur is almost as sure of Lancelot's love as he is of Gwen's. Neither of them would ever cross the line.

And yet.

And yet, it's difficult for Arthur to keep his jealousy at bay when he knows, deep down, that he won that initial fight for Gwen’s heart not by his own strength, but by default. He has tried not to wonder whose side Gwen would be sitting at if Lancelot had not left, but sometimes he falls into temptation. He’s come up with different answers at different times.

***

For Gwen’s first anniversary as queen, Arthur arranges a great feast and a tournament. Not very original, according to Merlin, but Gwen seems pleased. Even more so when Lancelot kneels at her feet and humbly begs her to allow him to fight in her honour. She accepts.

The next day, Arthur fights Lancelot at training. His blows, perhaps, land a bit harder than usual, and he might throw Lancelot on the ground with more force than strictly necessary. Lancelot says nothing. Arthur's right arm is so bruised afterwards that it hurts to lift anything heavier than a goblet of wine for an entire day.

The day of the tournament, Arthur plasters on a smile as he watches Gwen tie her monogrammed silk handkerchief around Lancelot's arm. He thinks of the much humbler favour she gave him, years ago, right before he kissed her for the first time. As they sit on the royal dais, watching the tournament, Arthur has to endure every one of Gwen's soft gasps and sighs of relief as Lancelot works his way through his opponents with single-minded efficiency. He wins the tournament, of course. Arthur wasn't expecting any less.

***

He will not humiliate himself or wrong them by asking them to stop.

And to stop doing what, exactly? They haven't breached any law of propriety, unless perhaps in spirit, in the privacy of their own hearts, which Arthur prefers to remain ignorant about.

At times, Arthur thinks it would be easier to bear it if he did not care for Lancelot as much as he does. He still feels indebted to him for stepping aside, with his customary grace, when it was clear that Gwen’s affections did not lie where Arthur had hoped.

And he understands entirely what drew Gwen to Lancelot – he might not have been a prince, and he's not a king, but he's as valiant a knight as Arthur ever was, true-hearted, chivalrous, and with a spirit noble enough to make up for his humble origins.

He's a few more things besides, things Arthur could never aspire to be – patient, sensitive, modest. Lancelot would not throw his goblet at his servant in a fit of anger, not even one as disrespectful as Merlin. He would not brag about his fighting skills, even though he's the best swordsman Arthur has ever met. If he were to find out Lancelot reads poetry in his free time, Arthur wouldn't be surprised.

Lancelot is, in short, perfect in every way – with the singular exception of being in love with his king's wife, and even this he does with such selflessness that it is almost enough to wipe away the stain of blame. Almost.

Be it as it may, Arthur can hardly fault the man for loving Gwen. He, of all people, knows very well how hard it is not to.

***

Despite Arthur’s best intentions, his worry and irritation start to show. They manifest in mean and petty ways, unbecoming of a friend, let alone a king – picking Lancelot for the most unpleasant rounds of patrol, ignoring him in council meetings, being liberal with criticism and stingy with praise on the training field.

Lancelot accepts it all with resigned obedience, which makes Arthur feel even worse.

***

One afternoon, Lancelot knocks on the door of Arthur's chambers. Gwen isn't there, having left to go explore the market stalls in the lower town. Sometimes, she asks Lancelot to accompany her – not today, it seems.

“Have I displeased you in some way, sire?” Lancelot asks, cutting straight to the point.

Arthur doesn't even lift his eyes from the letter he was writing. “What makes you think so?”

“Your attitude, sire,” Lancelot says, levelly, but with uncharacteristic bluntness. Arthur lifts his eyes then, arching his eyebrows at him. Lancelot meets his gaze, undaunted. “Forgive me, but I must speak the truth. You have always shown me extraordinary kindness, and you have been most gracious in accepting me amongst your knights, despite… what happened in the past–”

“I do not care about your little ruse, Lancelot, I told you,” Arthur interrupts him, jamming his quill in the inkwell. “It's forgiven.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Lancelot looks at Arthur with the same determined expression he wears on the training field, when he's squaring up to an opponent. It is clear he won't be dancing around the obvious any longer. “That isn't what I meant, sire. I do not wish to come between you and the queen.”

Arthur snorts. “Don't be presumptuous. What goes on between Guinevere and me does not concern you.”

“But what goes on between her and me concerns you,” Lancelot says. The withering look Arthur shoots him is not enough to stop him from taking a step forward. “I can see it, sire. I know that Gwen's heart belongs to you entirely, but I fear that my presence here is giving you cause to doubt it, and I do not wish to trouble your peace.” He stands straighter before announcing: “That is why I decided to leave Camelot.”

Panic pierces Arthur’s chest, as sharp and unexpected as a strike from a friend’s sword. “Don't be absurd,” he sneers, trying to mask his agitation with arrogance.

Lancelot maintains his composure. “I'm sorry, sire,” he simply says, and he genuinely looks it.

Arthur springs to his feet so abruptly his chair topples to the floor. Neither of them flinches. He walks around his desk, coming to stand in front of Lancelot. He cannot explain the anger that sweeps through him at Lancelot’s cool resolve.

Suddenly he’s a young prince again, watching the best knight he’s ever met slip through his fingers, and powerless to stop it – an unbearable feeling for a king who’s since grown used to having things go his way. 

“You swore an oath to me and Camelot,” Arthur says, trying to keep his anger from his voice. “To protect us both, and to serve me. Is your word really of so little worth?” A strange leap of association leads him to think of Gwen, left broken-hearted and tearful without so much as a goodbye after a narrow escape from a harrowing ordeal. With a few years’ delay, he feels outraged on her behalf. “Of course, that's your solution to all problems, isn't it, Lancelot? Running away. Guinevere won't be surprised to hear it – you did it once before, after all.”

He can see in Lancelot’s eyes that his words have wounded him, as he intended.

“I did it for you, sire, as much as her,” Lancelot says, quietly. “And it's for the love I bear you both that I beseech you now to release me from my oath.”

Even with a mind clouded by anger, Arthur hears what Lancelot is not saying. “You don't believe she would have chosen me.”

For the first time since he entered Arthur’s chambers, Lancelot's assuredness wavers. “I cannot presume to know what was in her heart,” he replies, but he lowers his eyes as he says it.

“And yet you left.”

“I didn't want to put her in the position of having to make a choice,” Lancelot says, because of course he would be the better man and think of others first, when Arthur was only thinking about himself. “When she confessed her feelings for me, she thought she might not live long enough to see you again.”

Arthur scoffs. “So it didn't count?”

“I only meant that she might not have been as forthright if we had met again under different circumstances.”

“But you don't doubt the truth of what she said,” Arthur insists, like a dog with a bone, not knowing himself what mad urge is driving him to drag the truth out of Lancelot when he's been trying to ignore it for so long.

Lancelot takes a moment to reply. “I believe she meant what she said, at the time,” he says, carefully, “and that she still holds me in esteem, despite what happened. That is all I can hope for. That is more than enough for me.”

“It’s not, though,” Arthur says, shaking his head. “You love her.”

The truth, now bare and undeniable, stands between them. Some emotion, which Arthur cannot name, flits across Lancelot's face at that accusation, like a ripple on the surface of a pond.

“I love her, sire, as much as I love you,” Lancelot says, his eyes as earnest and guileless as they were years ago, when, in a damp and dingy cell, he pleaded Arthur to let him ride at his side on a suicidal mission.

Arthur lets out a single burst of bitter laughter. “No, you don't.”

As he says this, Arthur’s anger evaporates, leaving only hurt in its place. He's not sure what pains him more – that Lancelot's love for Gwen surpasses his commitment to him, or that he would lie to Arthur's face about it.

“But I do, Arthur,” Lancelot protests. “I do.” He looks and sounds distressed, as if Arthur were doing him wrong by not believing him.

Lancelot's eyes search Arthur's face, hoping to find some trace of understanding. There is too much in those eyes – too much trembling honesty, despite his lies; too much devotion, for a man who was threatening to leave a mere moment ago – something too naked, too telling, so much so that Arthur feels the need to avert his eyes, as he did once, years ago, in that dingy cell. When he does so, Lancelot places his hand on Arthur’s face, turning it towards him again – and then, before Arthur can react, he presses his lips to his mouth.

It's a frantic gesture; a last resort. Arthur can tell from the way Lancelot's hand trembles on his cheek, from the desperation with which he pushes his mouth against his, all passion and no grace. Even so, the kiss lasts right up to the point of endurance, as if Lancelot needed Arthur to believe him. Perhaps he does – he is a man of honour; Arthur is certain he hates to be taken for a liar almost as much as he hates to lie.

Arthur doesn’t pull back, but he does not respond, either. He stands still and stiff, merely closing his eyes as he submits to Lancelot's tender assault out of confusion.

At last, the kiss ends. Lancelot takes his hand away and steps back, his eyes downcast, his face pale. Arthur just looks at him, with his mouth slightly open, too shocked to speak.

“Forgive me,” Lancelot says, his eyes fixed on Arthur’s boots. “I… I must go.”

He makes for the door, but Arthur’s hand, moving with no input from his mind, grabs Lancelot's wrist and pulls him back.

“No,” Arthur says, almost choking on the word. “Please. Stay.”

He's not entirely sure what he's asking, if he means ‘don't leave this chamber’ or ‘don't leave Camelot’; he only knows that he means: ‘don't leave me’, that the thought of Lancelot leaving is unbearable, just as it was the first time he did it, when Arthur had to watch the best man he ever met – the first man who ever truly understood what it meant to be a knight, perhaps better than Arthur himself – walk out of his life, leaving him with a feeling of loss he couldn't fully understand.

But Lancelot pulls his hand out of Arthur's grasp. “I'm sorry,” he says. There is genuine sorrow in his eyes.

Lancelot turns and leaves, and Arthur lets him go.

***

That night, Arthur seeks comfort in Gwen's body with an urgency that leads her to ask him what is wrong.

“Nothing,” Arthur lies, with a kiss between her breasts, because he can't very well tell her, ‘Lancelot is leaving us, and it is all my fault.’

Gwen looks unconvinced, but she pries no further.

***

The next morning, Arthur wakes with a feeling of dread, surprised that he's slept at all. He goes through his usual morning rituals with impressive stoicism – he eats his breakfast, reads the patrol report, and has Merlin prepare him for his training session, all the while listening to Merlin's mindless prattle, and never once throwing something heavy at his head.

He walks onto the training field much earlier than usual, expecting to find no one – but someone is already there, practising with a sword on a straw dummy. The distance is too great to make out much of him, but the precision and the swiftness of his movements are enough for Arthur to recognise the man at a glance. He starts walking faster.

“Lancelot,” Arthur breathes out when he's but a few steps away from him.

Lancelot turns. He doesn't bow to Arthur, as he normally would; instead, he wipes his sweaty brow with the back of his hand and looks at him warily. “Sire,” he says. He shifts his grip on the hilt of his sword.

“You're still here,” Arthur blurts out – an observation worthy of Merlin's wit, but the obvious relief in his voice seems to put Lancelot at ease.

Lancelot sheathes his sword. “You were right, sire. I took an oath to serve you and Camelot, so I'll endeavour to do so.” He pauses and adds, hesitantly: “That is, if you'll still have me.”

Arthur smiles at him without even meaning to. “I wouldn't wish you to be anywhere else.”

Lancelot's face clears up. “Then I remain your loyal servant,” he says, with feeling, and he bows.

Of course he is, just as he ever was, and Arthur was a fool to doubt it. The realisation hits him with staggering force, and it's all he can do not to embrace Lancelot.

He claps his hand on Lancelot's shoulder and squeezes it, instead. “Think you can beat me today?” he asks.

“I'll do my best,” Lancelot promises, almost solemnly.

Of course. “You always do, Lancelot,” Arthur says with warmth through the odd tightness in his throat. He backs a few steps and draws his sword, adjusting his grip with a twirl of his wrist. “Come on, then.”

With a happy smile, Lancelot unsheathes his sword.

[azkabanning]

"I don't know how it is you are so familiar to me– or why it feels less like I am getting to know you and more as though I am remembering who you are. How every smile, every whisper brings me closer to the impossible conclusion that I have known you before, I have loved you before– in another time, a different place– some other existence." – Lang Leav

Lancelot and Guinevere

[its-hyperfixation]

just have patience. it’s not how you spend the time, it’s if you waste it.

happy early birthday my beloved @bellamyblakru , i love u so much. thank u for being my friend <3

[gldnstrngs]

ive been working on my merthur fic and theyre so silly and dumb

like its so cute

i hate that i have carpal tunnel so i cant lock in like i usually would🫥 hoping i can be done with the fic soon

[notozthewizard]

Merlin fantasy creature AU part 3

The poem in the picture is a part of "Giving" by Khalil Gibran

The first time Merlin has to use so much magical energy, he's not ready for the consequences. He used to feel exhausted after using too much at once, that's a fact. But he didn't know the chaotic force would literally rip his human body apart.

The pain doesn't matter though. If he doesn't do anything he'll die here right after Lancelot and then the serpents will invade Camelot. Even if he did survive there would be nothing to come back to. So he braces himself. Ready for any outcome.

He blacks out. Wakes up with Lance tending to his wounds and regrets not dying because it hurts even more.

They have to spend a few days away from Camelot so Merlin's power stabilizes again and he can regenerate his body at least to the point of getting rid of the very visible and unnatural crystals and holes pulsing with yellow energy.

Arthur is kinda annoyed at first. They were supposed to be back ages ago and it wasn't even that hard of a mission. He knows very well how close Merlin and Lancelot are. He's seen them whispering in the castle's corridors to each other countless times. Maybe that was their whole plan, to get a week or two off work.

Few more days pass by and he's pretty sure that's not it. He starts worrying and honestly hoping. Maybe they did run away together. Good for them. At least they're alive. Somewhere. Ugh.

He finally gets some free time and almost decides to go on a search when finally he's informed that Merlin and Lancelot came back. He doesn't think. Just wants to finally see them again. See Merlin again and make sure he's okay.

He's far from it but he's breathing. And that's something. Arthur gets angry at Merlin for neglecting his wounds and takes him to Gaius. He gets a few days off after that.

Part 2

[ambriel-angstwitch]

Merlin: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?

Elyan: Several traffic violations.

Arthur: Three counts of resisting arrest.

Gwaine: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks.

Lancelot: Also, that's not our car.

[thefabledpheasant]

Merlin x Lancelot

Asked by @destinychicken68

So, agh, I go back and forth on this one A LOT. Because on one hand, I tend to headcanon Lancelot as straight, but then I see their scenes together and I go 🤔🤔

Honestly, I think Merlin and Lance are so goddamn charming that they are able to have extreme chemistry with basically anyone, so when the two of them are together, it’s like there are fireworks every second.

There are ships I like better than this one, but it IS an amazing ship. Lance matches Merlin’s sweetness to a crazy degree and it’s everything Merlin deserves, but not what I think Merlin falls hard for. I think they’re both so kind that there’d basically never be any angst and I need some angst lol

That being said, Lance should’ve been around him a lot more, in whatever way the writers would’ve given. Merlin needed someone like him around and they clearly made each other happy.

Ranking:

80/100

Feel free to Send me ships to rank :)

[bisexualmultifandommess]

Mercelot headcanon where Lancelot doesn’t drink as often as the others but if he has a lot he ends up getting really emotional and starts hugging Merlin any chance he gets and being clingy. He also mentions how proud he is of him which he does sober but when he’s drunk it’s a lot. Merlin is very amused by this.

Gwaine and Elyan have a bet each night to see how much ale it takes for him to get to this point.