#Arthur Hart | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

muiitoloko · 2 months

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My, yours.

Summary: You are his Guinevere, and he is your Arthur.

Pairing: Harry Hart × Fem!Reader

Warnings: jealousy, anger, insecurity, happy ending.

As Harry Hart sat in his personal office, the familiar sight of butterflies flitting around him filled the air, their delicate wings dancing in the sunlight that streamed through the windows. Despite his best efforts to focus on his paperwork as the new Arthur of Kingsman, Harry found himself distracted by the enchanting display, the butterflies seeming to take on a life of their own.

With a resigned sigh, Harry tried to push the butterflies away, knowing that they were nothing more than figments of his imagination. But no matter how hard he tried to ignore them, the butterflies persisted, their graceful movements captivating him in a way that he couldn't quite explain.

And then, as if on cue, you entered the room, your presence lighting up the space with a warmth and radiance that seemed to rival the sun itself. Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight of you, his heart skipping a beat as he watched you move with effortless grace and poise.

"Good morning, Guinevere," Harry greeted you warmly, his voice tinged with affection as he watched you with adoring eyes.

"Good morning, Arthur," you replied with a smile, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you approached his desk. "How may I assist you today?"

But Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from you, his gaze lingering on your every movement with a longing that he couldn't quite suppress. In that moment, you weren't just his assistant – you were his Guinevere, his partner in crime, his confidante and companion.

As the butterflies continued to flutter around you, landing like a flower crown upon your head, Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion wash over him. Despite knowing that the butterflies were nothing more than a trick of his mind, he couldn't deny the way they seemed to gravitate towards you, as if drawn by some unseen force.

"You're beautiful, Guinevere," Harry murmured softly, his voice filled with warmth and adoration. "Truly, you are a sight to behold."

As you blushed at Harry's compliment, a faint warmth spreading across your cheeks, you couldn't help but think that he was just being polite, a true gentleman as he always was. Despite the flutter in your stomach at his words, you brushed off his compliment with a shy smile, not wanting to make things awkward between you.

But Harry, ever the observant gentleman, realized his slip-up and quickly composed himself, diverting the conversation as he arranged some papers on his desk. "Ah, well, it seems I don't have anything for you today, Guinevere," he said smoothly, his voice betraying none of the emotion that had passed between you moments before. "I believe I can handle everything myself for now."

However, you persisted, knowing that Harry quite liked being a lone wolf and doing everything himself. With a gentle smile, you reminded him that you were there to help him with anything he wanted, whether it was paperwork, strategy, or even just someone to talk to.

Despite your insistence, Harry waved off your offer of assistance, assuring you that he could handle everything himself. With a polite smile, you respected his wishes and decided to give him some space, knowing that he valued his independence and preferred to work alone.

However, sensing that Harry could use a change of scenery, you suggested a visit to the mansion's gym to check on the progress of the new recruits. Harry's interest piqued at the idea, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he nodded in agreement.

"An excellent idea, Guinevere," Harry replied warmly, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. "Lead the way."

With a nod, you turned and began to make your way towards the gym, Harry falling into step beside you as the two of you made your way through the bustling corridors of the Kingsman mansion. As you walked, you couldn't help but steal glances at Harry, admiring the way his tailored suit hugged his frame and the air of authority that seemed to surround him wherever he went.

As you both entered the gym, the room fell silent as all eyes turned towards Harry, a collective respect evident in their gazes. "Good morning, Arthur," one of the senior agents greeted respectfully, his tone reverent.

"Good morning, everyone," Harry replied with a nod, his expression composed as he took a seat on one of the benches. "Please, continue with the training."

With Harry's permission, the class resumed, the sound of grunts and the thud of impact filling the air as the recruits practiced their moves. Harry tried to focus on the training, but his attention kept drifting back to you, who was engaged in conversation with Gawain, a tall and handsome agent.

"So, Guinevere, have you been practicing your hand-to-hand combat skills?" Gawain asked with a charming grin, his tone playful as he leaned in closer to you.

You laughed softly, a faint blush coloring your cheeks as you shook your head. "Not as much as I should be," you admitted with a sheepish smile. "But I do enjoy watching the recruits train. It's quite impressive."

Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the easy rapport between you and Gawain, his jaw clenching involuntarily as he watched the two of you interact. He knew it was irrational – after all, you were just having a friendly conversation – but he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach.

Meanwhile, Gawain continued to chat with you, his charm and charisma evident as he regaled you with tales of his own training experiences. You listened attentively, your laughter ringing out like music in Harry's ears as he struggled to focus on the training unfolding before him.

As Harry stood up, the room fell silent, all eyes turning to him in anticipation. With a commanding presence, he addressed the room, his voice carrying with it an air of authority and determination.

"I believe a demonstration of combat skills would be in order for our recruits," Harry declared, his gaze sweeping over the assembled agents. "Percival, Gawain, would you be so kind as to assist me?"

Percival, the senior agent who had been monitoring the progress of the recruits alongside Gawain, nodded in agreement. "Of course, Arthur," he replied respectfully, his tone deferential. "We'd be happy to."

But Harry shook his head, a determined glint in his eyes as he began to remove his suit jacket. "No, I believe I'll do it myself," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "With Gawain's help, of course."

Turning to you, Harry handed you his jacket with a smile, his eyes soft with affection as he watched you. "Would you mind holding onto this for me, Guinevere?" he asked gently, his voice tinged with gratitude.

You nodded in response, a fond smile playing at the corners of your lips as you accepted the jacket from him. "Of course, Arthur," you replied warmly, your heart swelling with pride at the trust he placed in you.

As you helped Harry remove his gun holsters, your fingers brushing against his skin with a gentle touch, he couldn't help but tease Gawain playfully. "Unless, of course, Gawain doesn't want to face me," he quipped, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Gawain hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering between Harry and the mat, before finally nodding in agreement. "I accept your challenge, Arthur," he replied confidently, his voice steady despite the flicker of doubt in his eyes.

With that, Harry and Gawain entered the mat, their movements fluid and precise as they circled each other with a practiced ease. The room held its breath as the two agents squared off, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills.

And then, with a sudden surge of energy, they sprang into action, their fists flying as they engaged in a fierce exchange of blows. The sound of impact echoed through the room as Harry and Gawain traded blows, each one landing with the force of a sledgehammer.

Despite the intensity of their fight, Harry's movements were graceful and fluid, his years of training evident in every strike. With each punch and kick, he seemed to move with a supernatural grace, his movements almost poetic in their precision.

Gawain, for his part, held his own against Harry, his own skill and determination evident as he countered each of Harry's attacks with a fierce resolve. With every blow, he seemed to grow more confident, his movements becoming more fluid and precise with each passing moment.

As Harry and Gawain continued their intense sparring match, the room was filled with the sound of their grunts and the thud of their blows. Despite Gawain's best efforts, Harry remained almost too calm, his movements calculated and precise as he effortlessly dodged each of Gawain's attacks.

But beneath his composed exterior, Harry's determination burned bright, fueled by the desire to impress you and show Gawain that he wasn't to be trifled with. With each punch and kick, he threw himself into the fight with a fervor that left Gawain struggling to keep up.

And then, seizing the opportunity to assert his dominance, Harry landed a powerful kick to Gawain's chest, sending him crashing to the mat with a loud thud. As Gawain lay there, dazed and disoriented, Harry couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction wash over him, his victory all but assured.

"I must say, Gawain, I'm rather disappointed," Harry remarked coolly, his voice tinged with amusement as he looked down at his fallen opponent. "I expected more from you."

Gawain clenched his fists on the floor, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as he struggled to push himself back up. "You got lucky, Arthur," he grumbled, his voice tinged with frustration. "But I'll give you a run for your money next time."

But before Gawain could rise to his feet, Harry turned to Percival with a nod, silently indicating that it was his turn to join the fray. With a determined expression, Percival stepped forward, his movements confident and assured as he squared off against Harry.

Meanwhile, Merlin, who had been watching the fight from the sidelines, muttered softly to himself as he shook his head in amusement. "Show-off," he murmured under his breath, a fond smile playing at the corners of his lips.

As Harry continued to spar against Percival and Gawain, the intensity of the fight reached a fever pitch, their movements swift and precise as they exchanged blows with a fierce determination. Despite the numerical disadvantage, Harry held his own against his opponents, his skill and agility evident in every move.

Merlin watched from the sidelines, his eyes keenly observing the action with a mixture of amusement and concern. It was painfully obvious to him, as it was to everyone else, that Harry and you were deeply in love with each other. Yet, for some reason, neither of you seemed to acknowledge or act on your feelings, much to Merlin's frustration.

As Harry fought with a single-minded focus, his attention never straying far from you, Merlin couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for his friend. It was clear that Harry was fiercely protective of you, his jealousy evident in the way he reacted to every male agent that interacted with you.

But despite his best efforts to hide his feelings, Harry's emotions were written plainly on his face, his eyes constantly seeking out yours for reassurance and approval. And though you were often oblivious to his longing glances, Merlin couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the sight of Harry's unwavering devotion.

As the fight continued, Merlin decided to intervene, knowing that Harry needed a distraction from his own turbulent emotions. With a wave of his hand, he brought the match to a close, declaring Harry the victor with a wry smile.

"Enough for today, gentlemen," Merlin announced, his tone firm but not unkind. "Arthur, Percival, Gawain, I think it's time we call it a day. You've all done exceptionally well."

Harry stood proudly over Percival, who was catching his breath but looking fine, and Gawain, who was on the ground sore. He smiled at you as you quickly approached, his heart swelling with anticipation, thinking you wanted to praise him for his victory. But his warmth quickly turned to cold when you unceremoniously handed him his gun holsters and suit jacket before rushing to Gawain's side.

As you knelt beside Gawain and checked him over, Harry's jaw clenched with anger. He watched as you rubbed Gawain's sore cheek with gentle fingers, a pang of jealousy stabbing at his heart. He felt a surge of resentment towards Gawain for taking your attention away from him, for making you worry about him instead of congratulating Harry on his victory.

"Are you alright, Gawain?" you asked with genuine concern, your voice soft and soothing as you inspected his injuries.

Gawain winced as he nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I'll live," he replied with a chuckle, his tone light despite the soreness in his voice.

Harry's fists clenched at his sides, his anger simmering just below the surface as he watched you tend to Gawain's injuries. He couldn't understand why you were so quick to rush to Gawain's side, why you seemed to care more about his well-being than Harry's victory.

Feeling a surge of frustration building within him, Harry growled, his voice cutting through the silence of the gym. "That's enough, recruits!" he barked, his tone laced with authority. "Back to your training immediately!"

The recruits scrambled to obey, their eyes widening in fear at the intensity of Harry's command. As they hurried back to their exercises, Harry turned on his heel and stormed out of the gym, his emotions roiling inside him like a tempest.

Merlin sighed softly as he watched Harry leave, a look of concern etched on his weathered features. He knew that Harry's feelings for you ran deep, deeper than even Harry himself realized. And he also knew that Harry's jealousy towards Gawain was unfounded, a product of his own insecurities and fears.

But you didn't seem to notice Harry's abrupt departure, too focused on tending to Gawain's injuries to pay attention to anything else. Merlin shook his head in resignation, knowing that there was little he could do to ease the tension between you and Harry.

Merlin approached where you and Gawain were still, his expression one of gentle concern as he observed the scene before him. Sensing his presence, you looked up from tending to Gawain's injuries, a faint frown marring your features as you noticed the worry etched on Merlin's face.

"Is everything alright, Merlin?" you asked softly, your voice tinged with concern. "Do you need something?"

Merlin shook his head, a sigh escaping his lips as he looked at you with a mixture of sympathy and understanding. "It's Harry," he admitted reluctantly, his tone grave. "He's not taking the situation well. I think he could use your support."

You furrowed your brow in confusion, unsure of what Merlin meant. "But Gawain needs help too," you protested softly, your gaze drifting back to where Gawain lay on the mat, still nursing his sore cheek.

Merlin nodded in agreement, his expression sympathetic. "Gawain will be fine," he reassured you gently, his voice tinged with understanding. "But Arthur needs you, Guinevere. That's what you're here for, after all."

You hesitated for a moment, torn between your duty to both Harry and Gawain. But ultimately, your concern for Harry won out, and you nodded in agreement, a determined glint in your eyes.

"Alright, Merlin," you replied firmly, your voice filled with resolve. "I'll go check on Arthur. Thank you for letting me know."

With that, you rose to your feet and hurried out of the gym, your heart pounding in your chest as you made your way to Harry's office. As you approached the door, you could hear the faint sound of rustling papers and muttered curses emanating from within, a sure sign that Harry was deeply engrossed in his work.

Summoning your courage, you knocked softly on the door, poking your head inside as you called out to him. "Arthur? Is everything alright? Do you need help with something?"

Harry looked up from his paperwork, his expression tense as he caught sight of you standing in the doorway. "I'm fine, Guinevere," he replied curtly, his tone clipped. "I don't need any help. You should go back to Gawain. He needs you more than I do."

You frowned at Harry's dismissive tone, unable to understand why he seemed so angry all of a sudden. "But Arthur, I—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Harry cut you off with a sharp gesture, his frustration evident in the set of his jaw. "I said I'm fine, Guinevere," he snapped, his voice tinged with irritation. "Now go. Gawain needs you."

Feeling hurt and confused by Harry's sudden outburst, you hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do next. But as you glanced back at Harry, you could see the frustration and anger etched on his face, his eyes burning with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

Harry refused to look at you, not wanting to see how those beautiful butterflies were flying around him in such a beautiful way. You sighed and turned to leave, but stopped when Harry began talking to himself, waving his hands in the air as if trying to scare something away. You were curious, wondering if he was seeing butterflies.

"Arthur?" you asked softly, concern lacing your voice as you approached him cautiously.

Harry looked at you in surprise, his cheeks flushing slightly as he realized you had caught him in the midst of his strange behavior. "Guinevere, I... I didn't realize you were still here," he stammered, his voice tinged with embarrassment.

You furrowed your brow, your concern growing as you watched Harry's agitated movements. "Is everything alright, Arthur? You seem... flustered," you ventured, trying to tread carefully.

But Harry's embarrassment quickly turned to anger, his frustration evident in the way he clenched his fists at his sides. "I said I'm fine," he snapped, his voice sharp with irritation. "I don't need your help. Just go back to Gawain."

Feeling a surge of frustration of your own, you refused to back down this time, your curiosity getting the better of you. "Arthur, please," you pleaded softly, your voice tinged with concern. "I read your medical report from Merlin. I know about the butterflies."

Harry's eyes widened in shock, his cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red as he realized you were aware of his hallucinations. "You... you know about that?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, a sympathetic smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yes, Arthur," you replied gently. "And it's okay. You're not alone in this. Merlin explained everything to me."

But Harry's embarrassment quickly turned to anger once again, his frustration boiling over as he lashed out at you. "I don't need your pity, Guinevere," he growled, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Just go back to Gawain. He needs you more than I do."

Feeling hurt by Harry's dismissive attitude, you shook your head stubbornly, refusing to leave until you got to the bottom of his sudden outburst. "Arthur, why are you so angry?" you questioned, your voice tinged with frustration. "And why did you snap at me earlier? What did I do wrong?"

Harry's frustration reached its breaking point, his emotions spilling out in a torrent of words as he struggled to contain his anger. "You didn't congratulate me on my victory," he blurted out, his voice raw with emotion. "You ran straight to Gawain, when you should have been worrying about me. You're my Guinevere, damn it. You should just be worrying about me. I'm your Arthur, and you're my Guinevere."

You were taken aback by Harry's outburst, your heart pounding in your chest as you processed his words. The absurd notion that Harry was jealous of you sent a shiver down your spine, a rush of emotions swirling inside you as you struggled to make sense of it all.

But before you could respond, Harry turned away from you, his shoulders hunched with frustration as he tried to compose himself. "Just go, Guinevere," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "Please."

But you refused to leave, questioning if Harry's sudden anger stemmed from jealousy.

Harry didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the wooden table in front of him, his thoughts a tumultuous whirlwind of emotions.

Refusing to accept his silence, you approached him, circling around the table to stand beside him. With a determined gesture, you turned his chair to face you, but Harry stubbornly kept his gaze fixed on his shoes, unwilling to meet your eyes.

Cupping his face gently in your hands, you lifted his head until his eyes met yours. "My Arthur," you whispered softly, your heart aching at the sight of his turmoil. "Are you jealous?"

Harry was mesmerized by you, his heart skipping a beat as he took in your beauty, the butterflies dancing around you like a flower crown. "Yes," he murmured, barely above a whisper. "Yes, I am. I like you, Guinevere."

You couldn't help but laugh at that, the sound ringing out like music in the tense atmosphere of the room. "Oh, my silly Arthur," you chuckled fondly, shaking your head at his confession.

Reaching up, you gently removed Harry's Kingsman glasses, revealing the scar from his missing eye. Harry tried to look away, ashamed of the reminder of his past, but you held him tight, refusing to let him hide from you.

Placing a knee between his thighs, you leaned in close, your lips hovering just inches from his. "You don't have to hide from me, Harry," you whispered softly, your breath warm against his skin. "I love you, scars and all."

With that, you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a tender kiss. Harry was taken aback for just a moment, his surprise quickly giving way to passion as he melted into the kiss, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you closer.

Lost in the moment, neither of you noticed as Harry's glasses slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor. All that mattered was the love that burned between you, a flame that had been kindled long ago and now blazed brighter than ever before.

Breaking the kiss, you pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting Harry's with a tender smile. "My silly Arthur," you murmured affectionately, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "I don't like Gawain. He's like a brother to me. You, Harry, you stole my heart a long time ago."

Harry couldn't control himself as he stood up with you, placing you on his desk, and getting between your legs as he ravished your mouth on his, he dreamed of this so much, dreamed so much of having you here in his arms, take you against that table, hear your moans and sighs as he pleasures you like no one else, but he needed to talk about it with you, make sure you were both on the same page.

"I want you, Guinevere," Harry murmured against your lips, his voice husky with desire. "I want you more than anything in this world."

You melted into his embrace, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, your heart pounding in your chest at his confession. "Oh, Harry," you breathed, your voice filled with longing. "I want you too, more than you'll ever know."

Harry's heart soared at your words, his desire burning bright as he pressed his body against yours, his hands roaming over your curves with a hunger that bordered on desperation. But even in the heat of the moment, he knew he couldn't let his desires cloud his judgment.

Breaking the kiss, Harry pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he looked into your eyes with a tenderness that took your breath away. "I need to talk to you," he whispered softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "About what just happened, about what I want."

You nodded in understanding, your heart racing as you waited for him to speak. "Go on, Harry," you urged gently, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest as you tried to calm the tumultuous emotions swirling inside you.

Taking a deep breath, Harry gathered his thoughts, his mind racing with a million different possibilities. "I want you, Guinevere," he began, his voice steady despite the nervous flutter in his chest. "I want to be with you in every way possible, to love you and cherish you for all eternity."

You felt a surge of warmth wash over you at his words, your heart skipping a beat at the depth of his emotions. "Oh, Harry," you murmured softly, your eyes shining with tears. "I want that too, more than anything."

Harry smiled at you tenderly, his heart overflowing with love and affection. "But I need you to know, Guinevere," he continued, his voice tinged with seriousness. "I want to make love to you, to show you how much you mean to me, but only if you want it too. I would never want to pressure you into anything you're not ready for."

You blushed at his words, touched by his consideration and respect for your boundaries. "Harry, I..." you trailed off, your voice catching in your throat as you struggled to find the right words.

But Harry silenced you with a gentle kiss, his lips soft and tender against yours as he poured all of his love and affection into the kiss. "You don't have to say anything, Guinevere," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance. "Just know that I love you, and I'll wait for you for as long as it takes."

With that, Harry pulled you into his arms, holding you close as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, his love for you shining bright like a beacon in the darkness. And as you melted into his embrace, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would always have Harry by your side, loving you with all his heart and soul.

As Harry held you close, his heart swelling with love and desire, he couldn't help but feel emboldened by the intensity of his feelings for you. With a gentle caress, he brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his fingers lingering on your skin as he gazed into your eyes with a burning passion.

"Guinevere," Harry murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned in close to you. "There's something I need to tell you, something I've been dreaming about for a long time."

You looked up at him with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, your heart racing with excitement as you waited for him to speak. "What is it, Harry?" you asked breathlessly, your voice tinged with eagerness.

Harry's lips curved into a mischievous smile as he leaned in even closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered his intentions to you. "I've daydreamed countless times about having you against this very table," he confessed, his voice low and husky with desire.

You hesitated for just a moment, your hand gripping Harry's tie tightly as you processed his words. The image of Harry ravishing you against that table sent a shiver down your spine, your cheeks flushing with arousal at the thought of his lips and tongue exploring every inch of your body.

"Harry," you whispered softly, your voice tinged with desire. "I want you, too. I want you to make love to me, to show me how much you desire me."

Harry's eyes darkened with desire at your words, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he struggled to control his own arousal. "God, Guinevere," he murmured huskily, his voice thick with need. "You have no idea how much I want you. How many times I've fantasized about taking you against this table, making you mine in every way possible."

Your heart pounded in your chest at his admission, your desire for him burning brighter than ever before. "Then do it, Harry," you urged, your voice barely above a whisper. "Take me. Make me yours."

But Harry shook his head, a determined glint in his eyes as he pulled away slightly, his hands framing your face with a tenderness that took your breath away. "Not yet, Guinevere," he whispered softly, his voice filled with regret. "I want to take you on a proper date first. Dinner, wine, dancing... and then, when the time is right, I'll have you. But not until then."

You frowned in confusion, torn between your desire for Harry and your respect for his wishes. "But why, Harry?" you questioned softly, your voice tinged with disappointment. "Why wait when we both want each other so badly?"

Harry smiled at you tenderly, his eyes soft with affection as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "Because, my dear Guinevere," he replied gently, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want our first time together to be special. I want to show you how much you mean to me, to make you feel cherished and adored in every way possible. And I can't do that on an office desk."

You couldn't help but smile at Harry's words, touched by his thoughtfulness and consideration for your feelings. "Alright, Arthur," you conceded softly, your heart swelling with love for him. "I trust you. I'll wait for our date, for our special moment together."

Harry's smile widened at your words, his heart bursting with happiness at the thought of finally having you in his arms. "Thank you, Guinevere," he murmured softly, his voice filled with gratitude. "I promise you won't regret it."

And with that, Harry pulled you into his arms, holding you close as he whispered sweet promises of love and devotion in your ear. And as you melted into his embrace, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would always have Harry by your side, loving you with all his heart and soul.

#harry hart #kingsman secret service #harry hart x reader #kingsman #merlin #gawain #percival #Arthur #Guinevere #colin firth

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kingsmint · 9 months

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Idk if y’all realize but if u noticed that every time I draw Harry with his eyepatch sunglasses he wears a pink tie

Ties in kingsman are a status and I’m not even joking . I have never seen another kingsman agent in those movies wear that specific pink tie. Ever. A kingsman agent almost always wore the blue stripped tie.

Sometimes Harry will not wear the blue stripped tie but we all know it’s Harry Hart. And James as well (though it might be because he’s in a mission, then again, kingsman agents wear their suits with blue stripped ties anyways)

The only time I’ve ever seen that pink tie is ONLY WHEN Arthur is on screen because he wears that pink tie to symbolize that he’s the head of the organization. (You could even see it in The King’s Man where Orlando wears the pink tie and every other agent wears the blue stripped tie)

So. Whenever you see me draw Harry Hart with the pink tie, just know that he took on the mantle of Arthur (cuz he’s a fit candidate for it and the only surviving senior agent) and changed the course of Kingsman history, okay???????

#kingsman #headcanons #mint thoughts #Harry hart will become Arthur and in this essay-#I will also forever think about #mark strong wearing the pink tie while Colin wears the plain blue tie Merlin wears #and then in my head thinking (oMg they switched ties)#Harry hart #just know that him becoming Arthur he’s like ‘it’s about time we did some changes around here’

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headcanonthings · 4 months

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[after Harry gets knocked into a comma] Arthur: *standing over Harry's hospital bed and sobs* Arthur: How could you do this to me? We are so understaffed.

#incorrect quotes #incorrect kingsman quotes #kingsman #chester king #arthur kingsman #harry hart

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agirlattea · 2 months

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Mahoyaku Spell Translations:

- Characters are from the main storyline only (Ms1, Ms1.5/Anni1, Anni2, Ms2, Anni4)

- All translations are my own, but I used google translate to define the Latin words

Sage’s Wizards:

Central Wizards:

- Oz

Spell: Vox Noct

(ヴォクスノク)

Lit. Vokusunoku

Meaning: The Voice of the Night

Vox: Latin word for “voice”

Noct: Lain word for “night”

- Arthur Granvelle

Spell: Pernoctant Nix Zo

(パルノクタン・ニクスジオ)

Lit. Parunokutan Nikusujio

Meaning: I spent a night in the snow with Oz

Pernoctant: Latin for “spend the night”

Nix: Latin word for “Snow”

Zo: Oz backwards

- Cain Knightly

Spell: Gladious Procella

(グラディアス・プロセーラ)

Lit. Guradiasu Purosera

Meaning: Sword Storm or Storm of Swords

Gladious: Latin word for “Sword”

Procella: Latin word for “Storm”

- Riquet Ortiz

Spell: Sanretia Edif

(サンレティア・エディフ)

Lit. Sanretia Edifu

Meaning: Eternal Faith

Sanretia: The Latin word “Aiternus” backwards, which means “eternal”

Edif: The Latin word “Fide” backwards, which means “by faith”

Northern Wizards:

- Snow and White

Spell: Nos Comunia

(ノスコムニア)

Lit. Nosucomunia

Meaning: We are one

Lit. We are common/ we have in common (Common meaning the same, presumably as each other)

Nos: Latin word for “us”

Comunia: Latin word for “common” or “the same”

- Mithra

Spell: Arthim

(アルシム)

Lit. Arushimu

Meaning: Mithra’s name backwards

Arshim: (roughly) ミスラ (Misura) backwards

Mi su ra -> A ru shi m

(Because the romanization of Misura is Mithra, I changed Arsim to Arthim)

- Owen

Spell: Cur Memini

(クーレ・メミニ)

Lit. Kure Memini

Meaning: Why remember? or Why do I remember?

Cur: Latin word for “why”

Memini: Latin for “I remember”

Spell: Quare Morito

(クアーレ・モリト)

Lit. Kuare Morito

Meaning: Why die? or Why did he die?

Quare: Latin word for “why”

Morito: Latin word for “dying”

- Bradley Bain

Spell: Adono Potensum

(アドノポテンスム)

Lit. Adonopotensumu

Meaning: I give power

Adono: Latin for “I give”

Potensum: Latin word for “Powerful”

Eastern Wizards:

- Faust Lavinia

Spell: Satilliuqnart Mul Kred

(サティルクナート・ムルクリード)

Lit. Satirukunato Murukurido

Meaning: Many tranquil beliefs

Satilliuqnart: The Latin word “Tranquillitas”, meaning “Tranquility” backwards

Mul: Latin word for “many”

Kred: Latin for “believe”

- Shino Sherwood

Spell: Matzah Sudipas

(マッツァー・スディーパス)

Lit. Matsa Sudipasu

Meaning: Good bread or Tasty bread

Matzah: A type of unleavened flat bread, part of Jewish cuisine

Sapidus: Latin for “tasty”

- Heathcliff Blanchett

Spell: Repusev Aivurup Sonus

(レプセヴァイヴルプ・スノス)

Lit. Repusevaivurupu Sonusu

Meaning: Dusk and the sound of rainfall

(Heathcliff’s own translation, which can be found Main Story 1, chapter 4.3 In Order to Become a Wizard)

Repusev: Vesuper (vesperi), the Latin word for“evening”, backwards,

Aivurup: Purvia (Pulvia), the Latin word for “rain”, backwards

Sonus: Latin word for “sound”

- Nero Turner

Spell: Adnodus Omnis

(アドノディス・オムニス)

Lit. Adonodisu Omunisu

Meaning: To tie all things together or All things tied together

Adnodus: Latin for “knotted”

Omnis: Latin word for “all”, “every”, or “any”

Western Wizards:

- Shylock Bennet

Spell: In vie belle

(インヴィーベル)

Lit. Inbiviberu

Meaning: There is beauty in strife

In: Latin word for “In/Into/On/Upon”

Vie: From the Latin word “Invitare” which means “To invite/take on a challenge”

Belle: From the Latin word “bella” which means “beauty”

- Murr Hart

Spell: Eanul Lambru

(エアニュー・ランブル)

Lit. Eanyu ranburu

Meaning: Shadow of the Moon or The Moon’s Shadow

Eanul: Lunae (Luna) backwards, means moon in many Latin based languages

Lambru : A rearrangement of the letters in “Umbral”, which relates to the Latin word “umbra” which means “shadow”

- Chloe Collins

Spell: Suisupisibo Voitingok

(スイスピシポ・ヴォイティンゴーク)

Lit. Suisupishibo Voitingoku

Meaning: Obsessive Knowledge

Suispisibo: The Latin word obisipsius, which means “obsessive”, backwards

Voitingok: The Latin word kognitiov, which means “cognition”, backwards

- Rustica Ferch

Spell: Amor Est Viesse

(アモレスト・ヴィエッセ)

Lit. Amoresuto Viese

Meaning: Love is strength

Amor: Latin word for “love”

Est: Latin for “to be” or “is”

Viesse: From the Latin word “vir” which means “strength”

Southern Wizards:

- Figaro Garcia

Spell: Possideo

(ポッシデオ)

Lit. Poshideo

Meaning: I posses or God of the Sea

Possideo: Latin for “I possess”

ALT. Could be a reference to Poseidon, the Greek God of the Sea, as Figaro is associated with the Ocean and has a history with deism

- Rutile Flores

Spell: Ortonik Sutomaoge

(オルトニク・セトマオージェ)

Lit. Orutoniku Setomaojie

Meaning: “A birth to the family” and “remove me” or “I will be removed”

Orto: relating to the Latin word “ortare” which means “birth” or “to create”

Nik: The English word “Kin” which means “family” backwards

Sutoma: “Amotus”, the Latin word for “removed”, backwards

Oge: “Ego”, the Latin word for “I”, backwards

- Lennox Ram

Spell: Fosetao Meiiuvat

(フォーセタオ・メユーヴォ)

Lit. Fosetao Meyuvo

Meaning: It helped me dig or he helped me dig

Fosetao: Latin for “He dug”

Mei: Latin word for “I”

Iuvat: Latin word for “to help”

- Mitile Flores

Spell: Ortonik Celosispilce

(オルトニク・セアルシスピルチェ)

Lit. Orutoniku Searushisupiruche

Meaning: “A birth to the family” and “To hide heaven”

Orto: relating to the Latin word “ortare” which means “birth” or “to create”

Nik: The English word “Kin” which means “family” backwards

Celo: Latin for “to hide” ALT. “heaven”

Sispilce: Latin word “Eclipsis” which means “to hide” or “to suppress”

Supporting Characters:

(In order of appearance):

- Tiletta Flores

Spell: Scintilla

(スキンティッラ)

Lit. Sukintira

Meaning: A fading spark or A faint Presence

Scintilla: Latin word for “Spark” which denotes “a trace of something that barely suggests its presence (According to Cornell Law School’s online definition)”

- Obisius

Spell: Volo Habere

(ヴォロ・ハベーレ)

Lit. Voro Habere

Meaning: I want what is rightfully mine

Volo: The present infinitive of the Latin word “velle” which means to “wish” or to “want”

Habere: The Latin word for “to have”- In Roman law it referred to one’s right to possess something

- Issac

Spell: Anima Vexat

(アニマム・ベクサト)

Lit. Anima Bekusato

Meaning: A Troubled Soul or Troubling a Soul

Anima: The Latin word for one’s “soul/spirit/life”

Vexat: Third person singular present active indicative form of the Latin word “Vexo” which means “to harass, annoy, or trouble”

- Zara

Spell: N/A

- Balthazar

Spell: Mare Praeda

(メア・プラエダ)

Lit. Mea Puraeda

Meaning: Prey of the sea

Mare: Latin word for the sea

Praeda: Latin word for “Prey”

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aljeensane · 9 months

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harry hart sketches because pink

also because of @kingsmint 's post about pink and arthur.

will make proper art with this concept probs next week.

#harry hart #has two sides: badass and butterfly #kingsman #galahad #agent galahad #golden circle #colin firth #look #harry hart as arthur is sexy

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runawaymarbles · 1 year

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#phil coulson #arthur #inception #hux #q #harry hart #gabriel #kingsman #james bond #good omens #crowley #spn #tumblr polls #op #i'm not sure if Crowley counts because one of the hallmarks of the Supporting Besuited White Man is that he's underdeveloped #compared to what fandom assigns him #but #anyhow

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lashraith · 1 year

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I have such an intense love for fucked up little guys.

#light yagami #l lawliet #mello #near #matt #beyond birthday #hannibal #will graham #luo binghe #shen yuan #hua cheng #Xie Lian #wen kexing #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #cecil palmer #harry hart #arthur lester

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mcdonaldsnumberone · 5 months

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SKIN-DEEP COMEDY!

the symbolism of the wizards' crests and their journeys with you, their beloved master sage.

gender neutral reader

OZ!

—right collarbone: fragility, visibility, shattering of deep belief

Even the strongest wizard in the world has his weaknesses, even if it may be hard to believe. Maybe that’s why it’s so fitting for a man like him to have his crest placed in such a vulnerable place. The collarbone is infamous for being the most fractured bone, the right moreso being weaker than the left. Under the demonic guise, the facade of a wizard so powerful that he can bury his emotions, is a man whose heart is still thawing under love. Emotions are new, they’re fickle, and yet it’s enough to make him hesitate and reveal parts of himself that even he had never faced. Whether it be Arthur’s guidance or the wholehearted trust he puts in you to restore his world back to what it was, the shimmering black lily branded onto his right collarbone is the only telltale symbol on his body of the man behind the magic.

“Remember your duty, Master Sage. The moon does not forgive. Only the strong can survive in this world. Mind your place, and stay by my side.”

ARTHUR!

—right hand: ownership, power, a place of honor and status in biblical text

Sworn to the throne by birthright, Arthur is a man meant to grow into power and grace. His crest speaks to this responsibility, hovering over him more imposingly than any uncle or throne could. He carries out the will of the Central country, second to only the citizens of the people he rules over. His destiny is to inherit and enact blessings, and the constant visibility of his crest is an undeniable reminder of his fealty to you and that he must always use his place as both a wizard and a prince for nothing but good. You have faith that he won’t waver, not when he has such clear eyes for the future and comrades that believe in him without a shadow of doubt. Arthur is someone that’ll seek the light even when the odds are stacked against him, and his outstretched hand, bearing the black lily, will herald his bright tomorrows.

“Please trust me. So long as you are with me, I won’t allow any harm to befall on you. Not only are you the Master Sage, but you are someone important to me above all.”

CAIN!

—right forearm: strength, action, the capacity to start anew

Cain is a man of the sword first and foremost. Even now, with his secret as a wizard out on full display, he defines himself as a knight before anything else. His crest is representative of his strength and his will, as someone who has vowed to keep his liege safe but to also bear the safety of those around him. He’s determined not to make enemies with anyone that might stand in his way, whether it be human or wizard alike. Cain knows there’s more to the world than the small sliver he’s seen, and he knows holding onto his courageous heart will be the key to paving a way for those to follow. Despite having his status, his humanity, and his eye robbed of him, he wants you to help him stand strong in what he believes in. The black lily on his right forearm brandishes his sword literally and figuratively: a living embodiment of his justice.

“Let me protect you. I want to be someone you can lean on, Master Sage. It’s okay to depend on me. As long as I’m standing, I’ll be someone who fights for your honor.”

RIQUET!

—forehead: intellect, intelligence, heavenly love with the good

The world is an anomaly to Riquet just as much as Riquet is an anomaly to the world. After being withheld so much, Riquet’s only now learning what it means to exist apart from his days locked away in a cult. The line between curiosity and hedonism is a thin one: the one between morality and cruelty even thinner. His crest is a reminder of everything he has yet to learn and the importance of utilizing what he already has. Riquet has to discern between what will help others, what will help him, and what will betray everything he’s built up until now. You’re a stranger from another world who holds nothing but kindness towards him, so isn’t it only natural that he looks to you with reverence in his eyes? The black lily on his forehead is a manifestation of his hunger for intelligence, but also a newfound devotion to do good, for the universe and for himself.

“Let us step away from sin. Guide me to the light, and I will do the same for you. There are so many things wrong with this world, so let’s work hard together to make everything right again.”

SNOW!

—right neck: anger, hazardous, desolate to truth

Blood stains Snow’s hands. There’s no wizard that doesn’t eventually end up succumbing to the chaotic roar nestled inside their chest, but it’s one thing to kill others for power or glory and another to kill your very own kindred out of desperation. He claims it was love that brought White back from the dead, tethering his own soul and sharing it with his twin, but the dead swirls in his golden eyes hint at something a bit obsessive instead. But all’s well that ends well, and your worries should be less about him and more about yourself instead. This world is a lot scarier than you think, and it’s only right that a wizard as wise and skilled as he is ought to guide you through its pitfalls. The right side of his neck is adorned with a black half lily: an eternal reminder of his mistake and his rage, and everything he has to do in order to rectify his sins.

“Have you ever loved someone to the point of death? No? It's an indescribably heartbreaking experience. Master Sage, I hope this world will be kinder to you than it was to me.”

WHITE!

—left neck: strain, the past, implementation of the soul’s will

White is a remnant of what he once was. With no being of his own, his borrowed corporeal form is just an extension of Snow’s longing. He knows his time here is borrowed and yet he can’t even find solace in having died once. He shares his convoluted and twisted truth with the rest of the wizards, even extending a hand towards you when you’re willing to listen to whatever sick advice he might whisper into your ears. It’s hard to believe that his familial love for his brother isn’t as warped as he is, not when the hand that strokes yours feels so real. His half crest is a reminder that White is truly no longer and that he’s practically a ghost wandering in the shadow of Snow’s rage. The black half lily on his left neck is a mark of taboo, not fully intact but refusing to disappear altogether.

“Has someone ever loved you to the point of death? No? It’s a truly beautiful thing, Master Sage. Perhaps I can show you, if your curiosity demands it.”

MITHRA!

—pelvis: sexuality, old memories and trauma, issues of control

The pursuit of strength might be Mithra’s own way of keeping those he loves safe. He once had no one he could call his, at least, not until Tiletta took him as his student and made him a part of her family. Despite him being rough around the edges, you know that his obsession with becoming the strongest is only so that no one can question him and his desire to be loved. There’s no other reason as to why he holds your hand so tightly as he sleeps, or why he refuses to let any other wizard wager any influence over you. He bares himself wholly to you and you only, trusting that you understand his brusque words. The black lily nestled by his hips is proof of his love, and it’s a mark that he would only show to you. It’s an honor he won’t give to anyone else, so cherish it closely.

“...Don’t go anywhere, Master Sage. What, is that something you wouldn’t expect from me? Does it matter? You’re going to be with me. Nothing more to it.”

OWEN!

—tongue: the devil, the voice of the gods, shame

Owen shrouds himself in mystery, and he takes pleasure only in his hedonistic ways. Whether it be sneaking sweets when no one is looking or thinking up of new ways to torment those around him, everything he does remains inexplicable to anybody else in the Wizards’ Manor. No matter how thorny he is to you or how much he threatens to rip you from limb to limb, you refuse to back down in your attempts to wiggle into his heart. He’ll spew curses and keep you at bay, but he can’t deny your warm heart and the time you’ve spent with him. Maybe his distance is not because of maliciousness but out of his own loneliness, with large swathes of his memory missing. Can anything else come close to your sincerity? There’s no telling. His mouth will always say one thing, but the black lily engraved onto his tongue speaks of a devoted truth.

“Say, Master Sage, I wonder what taking your heart as a trophy would be like. A gruesome, bloody heart, ripped straight from your broken ribs. All mine… Won’t you give it to me?

BRADLEY!

—right abdomen: dysfunctionality, things unresolved and unprocessed, authenticity

The spitting image of the North, Bradley always holds his head high despite how much his situations have changed. A once-proud bandit leader of a powerful group, Bradley’s power lies not in his magical strength but in the keen mind that he sharpens with each year that he puts under his belt. He’s experienced his fair share of victories, but he’s experienced even more heartbreaks. He’s cognizant that nothing lasts forever, more than anyone else, but at the same time, could you blame him for not knowing when to let something so sweet go? Fate dangles regret right in front of his face, and it’s up to you to unravel the tangled threads. Sometimes he’ll indulge parts of his past with you, weaving tales of biting cold Northern winds and his stellar glory days, but the glimpses of the black lily on his right abdomen remind you of everything else he’s left unshared and unsaid.

“I got your back, so don’t slouch. A real leader worth their salt has to hold their head up straight, you hear? You’ve got the great Bradley Bain as your right hand man, Master Sage.”

FAUST!

—left shoulder blade: connection to the heart, guilt, vulnerability

Faust’s crest spreads like a shadow on his back, bearing the guilt and altruism of his past. It’s bigger than any other wizards’ crest for a reason, and it covers him as if it were the same embrace that he yearned for for so many years. His heart is jaded yet still soft, wanting assurance that his actions are the right decisions yet unsure if his goodwill is enough to save the crumbling world around him. His faith has been tested time and time again, and he’s sure it’s going to be tested once more, as the moon descends to take everything he’s cared for. Your clear eyes and unwavering loyalty to him might seem overbearing, but this devotion is what he needs to find the courage to stand up once more. The black lily on his left shoulder blade is his fealty to you and his choice to believe in goodness once more.

“There’s no need to praise me. I’m only doing what’s right. I’m no hero, no great leader, nor am I the Faust of the legends. Please, Master Sage, I’m nothing but a wizard that believes in you.”

HEATHCLIFF!

—lower left back: acceptance, generosity, crossroads at life

Many wizards of different walks of life are called to duty, but Heathcliff stands unique as the heir to a noble family. If being a wizard wasn’t difficult on its own, he’s had to balance the responsibility of his birthright and position for his entire life. Despite the doubts that gnaw like gnats in his mind, Heathcliff strives to be gracious and clement, vowing never to use his position for evil. And yet with his position as an heir growing heavier and the world demanding even more of his sensibility, the insecurity that plagues him becomes harder to wipe away. It’s only the love and care of those around him that can prop him back up, and one day, he hopes that he can extend a helping hand to you just as much as you’ve done for him. His lower left back sparkles with the black petals of a lily, his wizard’s crest, with his gratitude towards you.

“There’s a lot of times when I feel inadequate for all the titles I hold… And yet, you never admonish me for my mistakes, Master Sage. Thank you, and I’ll do my best for you.”

SHINO!

—right shoulder: masculinity, bearing burdens, imbalance

Rash but smart, strong yet inexperienced, Shino’s eager to take on the world and prove himself as a worthy retainer of Heathcliff. He’s hyperaware of everything he owes to the Blanchett family, and for him, becoming a Sage’s Wizard is his way of paying back the debt that saved him from a life of misery. He has little to call his own, not even his own last name, but what bonds he does have, he treasures above all else. The intensity and fear in his eyes are a testament to everything he has to put on the line so he can hold true to his promise of eternal loyalty. You’re the only one that can hope to understand him, the only one to help him digest the danger and the perils around him. The black lily on his right shoulder is the power you give him, to lead him to glory, to lead him to the refuge that he’s sought after all this time.

“Worry about yourself, Master Sage. I know how to hold my own ground. Things will fall apart if anything happens to you. You’re someone I can’t afford to lose yet.”

NERO!

—left bicep: to nurture, receiving support, intuition

For every shining protagonist on the stage, there’s someone hidden in the curtains to pull the strings. Nero wonders how long he’s been the one in the back. He has an intelligent mind and an even harsher tongue at times, his Northern birth betraying the Eastern mask he puts on. If he closes his mind and lets himself dream, he can conjure up distant memories of snowy nights spent drinking, boisterous laughter, the indulgence of stolen goods and a gruff voice praising his wits. But when he opens his eyes back up, he’s reminded of his betrayal. It’s hard to swallow back the lump in his throat when you console him and tell him he’s more than his past mistakes, but how many more can he make before his act is up? The black lily that appeared on his left bicep betrayed his facade once, and only so many parts can disintegrate before the entire whole crumbles.

“You can’t trust a man like me. But you’re going to do it anyway? You’re such a hassle at times, Master Sage. No, it’s okay. Being stubborn is a good thing too.”

SHYLOCK!

—left collarbone: shock, union, enthusiasm of a full heart

The beauty of being the one pursued means that Shylock has seen the rarest and the most desperate parts of the human psyche. It doesn’t mean he himself is above falling victim to love’s incessant ways, but it’s given him a seduction and a charm that’s increasingly difficult to read. You’re lucky that you have a special place in his heart, with his penchant for treating his loved ones like a pet. He claims Western wizards are free spirits who hate being tied down, but somewhere in his soul, perhaps he’s also grown tired of the cat-and-mouse game he plays with his admirers. He wants the permanence of something fickle, and is there anyone better for that role than the Sage from another world? He doesn’t want to trap you per se, but he wants to see how far he can go with this borrowed time. The black lily branded onto his left collarbone is his permanent reminder of a temporary bond.

“What a beautiful face you’re making, Master Sage. Fufu, am I getting too close to you? Won’t you allow me, just this once? I want to be spoiled by you today.”

MURR!

—right palm: good luck, encouragement to work hard, impending loss

Is there anything in this world that Murr hasn’t taken an interest in? Undone by his own pursuit of knowledge combined with just the right amount of hubris, even in his shattered form, Murr walks to the beat of his own drum and explores to the tune of his heart. It’s an impossible task to turn him back into the fickle man he was before he ventured too close to the moon, but when he pulls you in for a dance in the courtyard or whisks you away on his broom, it’s hard to stomach the dread that settles in your stomach as you realize his current form is an apparition of smoke and mirrors. Murr doesn’t mind—there’s still plenty out there for him to squander his foolishness on. He’ll happily invite you to fall with him, and the black lily weeping in the middle of his right palm is the proof of the only ending the two of you can have.

“Why the long face? Dance with me, Master Sage! Look at how lovely the moon is and how bright it makes everything down here! Why don’t we fly up and say hello too?”

CHLOE!

—right chest: dissatisfaction in relationships, physical connection, personal power

Optimism and a desire to be loved is what Chloe cares most about. After having his entire world flipped upside down by Rustica’s mistake, he’s learned what it means to be a human and a wizard. He vows to use his talents to spread happiness and always to help others, but each corner of the world seems to be tainted with insecurity and doubt the more he aims to spread goodness and truth. Even his own bond with his teacher seems shaky at times, and Chloe wants to find the courage to break free of his mold to reach through to Rustica’s frozen heart. You’re the only one to know the conflict in his heart, torn between both what’s good and what’s truthful. You appreciate him for who he is: a reflection of all the good wishes he’s kept inside, and the black lily hidden away on his right chest is only the beginning to what you hope will be nothing but a flowery path for him.

“Do you have faith in me? Then… I’ll do what I can so that I won’t let you down! You always see the good in everyone and in me, so I’ll do my part to repay the favor, Master Sage!”

RUSTICA!

—throat: truth, purification, clarity in responsibility

Rustica desires to love. His entire time as a wizard has been in chase of a bride from memory. The smiling nobleman wants the warm embrace of a lover, their soft whispers, even a quick kiss stolen in between honeyed glances. But that dream has long fluttered away, and only remnants of feathers remain at the floor of his birdcage. He doesn’t mind; his eyes have been opened thanks to his diligent apprentice and you. You’ve never denied his romantic streak, not when everyone else ridiculed him, not when even the universe seemed to condemn him from love. It’s no wonder that he clings so desperately to the dregs of love that he can catch from the end of your words or your touches. The black lily on his throat is his duty to uncover the reality of his past and to fulfill his duty of devoting himself to love, be it something old or something new.

“Ah, you look as lovely as ever, Master Sage. Your presence never fails to stir something in my heart. Come, let me adore you even more. You deserve nothing less.”

FIGARO!

—right rib cage: crookedness, need to protect the heart, longing for reunion

A man of self-inflicted ephemerality, Figaro struggles to see the permanence of the world. His idea of love is so tilted, so permanently warped, that he develops an inhuman craving for being desired that he refuses to fulfill. He wants to reach out and to be brave, and yet some cowardly vices keep him entrapped in a web of his own making. Even behind all of his empty, slack eyes and perfectly poised smiles, you keep probing far deeper than he expected or wanted you too. Though simultaneously, he wants you to keep pushing, wants you to understand his soul-crushing loneliness and save him from it. Surely, you can see past the “ordinary” wizard doctor to see the broken man underneath; you’re the only one that can save him now. Hidden away like his heart is the black lily on his right rib cage, forever yearning, forever begging for one more chance from cruel fate.

“You’re staring at me so intently. Could it be that you’ve fallen for Dr. Figaro? Haha, I’m only teasing you. You deserve a far finer man, Master Sage.”

RUTILE!

—right wrist: misalignment of purpose, sentimentality, movement

Rutile straddles the difficult line between the past, the present, and the future. He plays the precarious game of balancing his mother’s legacy and his younger brother’s unrelenting desire to unleash his full potential, all while tending to his own needs and the responsibility of being appointed a Sage’s Wizard. It’s all too easy for him to get lost in the memories of the simpler days in the South Country, with a baby Mitile clinging to his side and his students surrounding him. But he has to find courage and to place his trust in you, praying that you have the proper vision to use his magic for good. You’re both a cherished friend and a leader to Rutile, and it would shatter him to lose you too. He doesn’t need grandeur or glory, only your guaranteed safety. The black lily carved onto his right wrist is his constant wish for your well-being.

“Would you like a ride on my broom, Master Sage? Ah, you don’t need to look so scared! Would you like me to hold your hand too? No? C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

LENNOX!

—nape: freedom of the soul, deeper truths, connection

Lennox has lived honestly and faithfully, dedicating himself wholly to what he believes to be right. He spent centuries in search of the lost leader he considered to be his master, and he spent even more time pondering what his place in this world was. While he knows he’s no magical genius like Faust might be or even a figure of legend like Oz, his genuine desire to help others and to protect those he’s placed his devotion towards runs far deeper than any magic could even fathom. His true strength lies in aligning his life with yours, the same love he tends to his herd with becoming the same love he needs in order to save the world with nothing but his bare hands. The black lily that blooms on the nape of his neck is a reminder of the delicacy in his fortitude, the gentile nature that will render him as a true savior.

“Is anything troubling you? No? That’s good. I’m not the best talker, but… I’m always willing to listen to your words, Master Sage. I will be strong for you.”

MITILE!

—left wrist: divinity, receiving energy and protection, healing

The youngest of the Sage’s Wizards and the youngest son of the great witch, Mitile’s entire soul itches to live up the shoes that his mother left for him. He knows he’s capable of doing amazing and unearthly things with his magic, gifted by his older brother in order to keep him alive. No amount of patience is enough to quell his curiosity, so as the Sage, you’re tasked with the impossible duty of giving him the experience he needs all while being cognizant of the ambitions of those around him. Will you let him run free, to become the terrifying wizard he dreams of? Or will you let him be snuffed out, a sacrificial lamb in order to save the entirety of South Country. There has to be a middle ground, and when the black lily on his left wrist glitters cruelly, you have to believe that you’ve made the right choice.

“Master Sage, look what I can do! Magic sure is amazing. One day, I’ll be a wizard as great as my mother, and I’ll be sure to wow you even more!”

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