✨Last line Tag✨
Thank you for the tag, @lancedoncrimsonwings! And I'm too lazy to tag anyone so if for some reason you're reading this and want to participate, feel free to do so.
Share the last sentence of your last wip. I'm going to put two because I don't want to and I can't decide. Also, all the two povs are Lancelot, the Weeping Monk. (My beloved)
"Come on, tell me you hate me." The son of a bitch speaks against his ear as he touches him. The monk presses his hand to his neck so hard that he leaves crescent moons marks of his nails on the knight's wrist.
This one is not the last sentence, but is my favourite and i wanted to share It. It's from a completely new one shot that I made in two dawns because I was feeling horny after two glasses of wine. The one shot is called "I still hate you" btw and i think this is pretty straightforward. (Ok i'll stop yapping now)
He would beg god like a dog if he didn't feel so rejected and cursed by him right now.
Yes, that one hurt me and this time it is the last sentence of the first chapter after the... I lost count edition.
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.
OH MY GOD @lancedoncrimsonwings! YOU PLANNING GIVING ME A HEART ATTACK?!
Ugh, i hate i can't do more than Just like when I'm in my classes, cause damn i wanted to coment or reblog, but i couldn't cause i was in class! Anyways. I loved every single detail on this! It's absolutely perfect! And the clothes e paint detail? Briliant!
This remind me i actually have a dance head-canon for the Sky folk that i actually did write, Just like the Ash folk one i did a good time ago, i Just forgot to post It.
I can post It and tag you If you want tough.
And sweetie you're doing an amazing job, I'm loving to read anything you write. At this point i feel like a starved man who was gifted with a feast.
My pencil is blunt and I can find neither a sharpener nor an eraser but sketching some attire for Lancelot!
I had the idea that Lancelot would be given one of Gawain's old Aketons but that he'd be unlikely to give up the cloak and sword belt. I decided that he would wear a pair of bracers like these I used to make;
But potentially in black and grey, black and red, or maybe even black and green...
And that he'd start wearing a fabric sash at his waist under his belt scabbard when with the Fey, partially to protect still healing wounds from the weight of the swordbelt, partially to be more Fey in his attire, perhaps something like this, from the Witcher 3;
Initially I thought the sash could just be grey, but now I think it will be in the old colours of his Ashfolk clan to remember them!
... now to decide what those colours actually are. Maybe red or orange and grey...? (Like fire/burning/ash)
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.
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