#sad lancewain

[beginning-writer]

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

[lancedoncrimsonwings]

Snippet from my Lancewain (Gawain- The Green Knight / Lancelot - The Weeping Monk, Cursed on Netflix) fic because its a slow burn and I'm impatient and I can't get the first chapter right bfhsbbsnajjshjjsba

Unedited first draft but I wanted to get it ouuutttt;

Gawain, speaking alone to Lancelot

----------------

"I'll be here to fight with you, no matter what, Lance."

"I don't understand."

"There's nothing to understand. You have my aid whether you like it or not."

"Aiding me is folly. I..." Lancelot paused, sighing before wrinkling his lip to quietly continue, "It's a burden you sho-"

Gawain cut him off abruptly.

"Not to me." He knew well enough that Lancelot had nearly said 'I'm', and too did he know that the warrior definitely FELT like a burden. How, why... Gawain could kid himself that he didn't know, but if he was being completely honest... ever since his spine had been broken he had also felt the deep pain of feeling this way. By Arawn, he'd do all in his power to stop Lancelot suffering this too. Gawain pulled the Ash Fey's balled fists into his own hands, coaxing them open gently. Lancelot looked up at him then, a mournful, sorrowful look in his grey blue eyes. It was a look Gawain remembered well, the same one he'd given oh so long ago when they had first really spoken back in Brother Salt's torture tent.

"Never to me, Lancelot. Not if it's you." Gawain said, softly, tilting his head in what he hoped was a kind way, flashing him a returning look with as much warmth and care as he could muster. Lancelot's eyes flicked away almost nervously. The sorrow seemed to have tempered to sadness now though, and he seemed distracted by some internal conflict again raging in his mind.

"You show me such kindness, Gawain, why?"

"Why show you kindness?"

"And aid, and help. And care, you've fought for me, Hell, Gawain, you've nearly died for me more times than I can count, I need to- I need to know, Why?"

"Because you're worth all of that and far more to me." Gawain replied, carefully.

"Why."

"Does it astound you to know you have friends, Lancelot? People who care about you? People who don't want to see you hurt?"

From the look on his face- yes, yes it absolutely did.

"We care for you, Lancelot. That is why."

"How can you care for someone so damned?"

"Because you're not damned, and you never bloody were!" Gawain hissed, he just couldn't help the anger that hardened his tone, and he only partially regretted it when Lancelot immediately flinched, fists balling again. The man's reaction jarred him to his core, but he recognised the thoughts swimming behind his azure eyes were not from fear of his anger, but the voices of his past, tormenting him.

"It's their lies again, swarming through your mind like... like biting ants!" He continued, and Lancelot's gaze flicked up to his own for just a second. Gawain's anger seeped from him almost as quickly as it had come, and he softened his voice just a little when he spoke again.

"By the Gods, they never leave you alone, do they?"

Lancelot didn't reply, but the troubled expression didn't waver, the eyes looked away once more. Gawain gently unballed his fists again, held his hand firmly. He could feel the Ash Man's pulse near his wrist, fast, but strong. It likely matched his own.

"You are worthy of being cared for."

Lancelot scoffed.

"You are worthy of being loved."

He did not scoff that time, but Gawain feared if the man clenched his jaw any harder he might actually break it, or at least be spitting out teeth next he spoke. If he spoke again today, anyway... In the time since the Red Paladin's encampment Lancelot had been speaking more openly, albeit reluctantly, gradually, and with no small effort on Gawain's part. The distinct possibility still remained that the Ash Man had already used up his daily quota of words. Gawain realised quickly that he found this fact disheartening. He honestly enjoyed speaking with Lancelot, treasured the conversations he had managed to wrangle from the Ash Man, and his quietly observant, intelligent outlook was interesting to hear. More than that, he just... liked hearing the man speak. He had noticed too that Lancelot's voice often betrayed what his words and carefully masked expressions did not.

Now, Lancelot appeared to have shut down entirely, expression blank, body rigid and alert, eyes averted lest they leak any of the emotion the man had been brutally conditioned to hide. Gawain felt his own pang of emotion- something almost akin to greif- at the idea that even now, Lancelot was hiding, retreating from him. He wanted to clasp his hands over his jaw and force him to look at him, to trust him, beg him to accept his statements but the stubborn ox would never allow it... or worse, Lancelot would accept his statements just to appease Gawain, without meaning a single thing he'd said...

"You don't get to decide either way." Gawain told him, softly. Lancelot's eyes did not move from where they bored holes into the ground near their feet.

"It's for the people around you to do that." Gawain stated with a heavy sigh. It was a long, quick breath, clearing his lungs like he could breathe out the tangled mess of emotions that was his own mind at present. Slowly he got to his feet, careful to let go of Lancelot's hands softly before he grimaced for just a moment at the familiar stabbing pain in his back.

He opened his eyes to see that the moment he had winced had the ex-Monk immediately leaned up, hands outstretched like he was ready to catch him if he fell. Lancelot seemed to grow embarrassed, he coughed and looked away again, lowering his arms hesitantly.

Gawain couldn't help the smile, or the blossom of warmth in his chest. He trusted Lancelot to catch him every time he fell, and Gods, if he wasn't tempted to let himself fall just so the man would hold him... Stop it. Focus. Pull Lancelot out of his funk and stop getting bogged down in your fantasies...

"Now. Up you get. We can mope out here all we like, or, we can go and hunt dinner," Gawain flashed him a smile, offered him a hand "I know which I'd prefer. You coming?"

It was almost comical how many expressions managed to cross Lancelot's face in such a short succession. He shrugged a single shoulder and stood, dipping his head in acceptance without another word.

The two headed into the evening forest in a calm, companionable silence.

-Or "Gawain admits he's in love with Lancelot and Lancelot refuses to believe it".

[sonicstorybook]

“Wist well, anon as I heard that Sir Gareth was dead, I should never after have your love, but everlasting war betwixt us.”

“Why withdrawest thou thee?” Said Sir Gawain; “Now turn again, false traitor knight, and slay me!”

[cosmicwanda]

lancewain fic 🤍

rewatching cursed (again) and i'm obsessed with lancewain all over again. i will be forever sad they cancelled the show. would anyone still be interested in reading a multi-chapter fic? lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers goodness, all from lancelot’s pov. 

currently editing ch1, almost ready to post ⚔️❤️‍🔥🍃

[sennextheassasinkingoflight]

Mon petit trésor

Cursed Tv 2020 Fanfic Lancewain General Audiences  Found Family, Soft, Fluff Prompt FIll Nose Kisses Cross Posted to AO3 here

When Gawain and Percival return from their quest they bring something home with them. A treasure more precious than anything to Lancelot and by extension his husband and their son.

Gawain returns from his quest with Percival at his side, unharmed, and a bundle in his arms. Percival dismounts first and he immediately draws the boy into a crushing hug. He pulls back and looks him up and down. The young man has grown at least an inch in the month they have been away. He claps him on the shoulder and grins.

“How was it?”

“I’ll tell you at supper, Ada, promise.” Percival smiles, glances at Gawain and ducks out of the room with a determined stride. Lancelot blinks and then looks to Gawain who is very carefully stepping down from his horse, cloak covering whatever it is he's carrying. Lancelot takes a step towards him and stops dead in his tracks.

He feels his eyes go wide as the realization of what he smells catches up with him. Slowly, uncertainly, he takes another step forward and then another. Gawain's eyes never leave his face. He inhales a shaky breath and steadies himself against Gawain's unoccupied arm, Gawain grips his bicep securely, comforting. He ignores the way his hand shakes as he brings it up and folds away the cloak. The tremble spreads, dances across his lips as he looks from the infant up to Gawain and back, studies the marks on her face.

“Where?” He chokes out, voice betraying him.

“A paladin camp. On the coast.” Gawain says softly, “Her mother…” he shakes his head and Lancelot understands the scent that rises from him, knows this is a newborn.

“Her name?” He breathes, unsure he really wants to know.

“Etain.” Lancelot feels his lips turn up into a small sad smile. He swallows down his hope.

“What do you intend to do with her?” He brushes his thumb against her forehead, the skin is smooth and softer than he thought it would be. Gawain pulls him against him where Etain is not resting against his chest, no doubt soothed by the same heartbeat that soothes Lancelot back to sleep when he dreams of evil things.

“I had hoped, perhaps… that you would raise her with me. Percival could use the responsibility of being an older brother, and I thought… since she is your kin...”

Words fail him as they so often do, instead he tightens his grip on Gawains bicep, twists so he can pull the knight into a chaste kiss. When he pulls away he nods resolutely and reaches for the infant. For their child. For Etain. Gawain relinquishes her willingly and Lancelot cradles her in his arms.

“She’s so very little, Gawain.”

“I know. Still, the healer tell me that she is healthy.”

He looks up at him, eyes watery with unshed tears and nods.

“We..." He swallows against the constriction in his throat, sucks air into collapsing lungs, "We have to protect her.”

“I know. We will.” Gawain puts an arm around him, no doubt to signal they should go into the castle proper. He’s certain the man wants to change into more comfortable clothing, bath, eat. But he is rooted to the ground, mesmerized by the tiny faery in his arms. He hears Gawain start for the stairs where Percival has returned and is watching from. He isn’t as sneaky as he thinks, Lancelot thinks to himself; nor does it matter, in this moment as the bundle in his arms opens her eyes, blue as glaciers like his own, and blinks up at him yawning. Swallowing, he chokes back a sob and leans his head down. He brushes his nose against hers, the way he remembers his mother doing to him so many times when he was little.

“I will protect you, Mon petit trésor, I swear it.”

When he looks up, Percival and Gawain are staring at him, jaws slack and wide eyed as though he has grown another head. And perhaps he has? He takes three strides towards them and smiles.

“Come, tell me of your adventures, and what you think of your little sister.”

He pulls Etain closer to his chest and leads them up the stairwell to the dining hall, joy in every step.

[cosmicwanda]

so i'm writing a lancewain fic because i'm sad and bitter about cursed being cancelled! just wondering if anyone would still be interested in reading that? it’ll be multi-chapter + lancelot's pov.

lots of slow burn, angst, squirrel, and so much enemies to friends to lovers goodness. ⚔️❤️‍🔥🍃