#knights of saint christopher

[unholly-reader]

Darling - Hamish Duke x fem!reader

Just a little something for us all Hamish lovers <3

Please, keep in mind - English is NOT my first language, so I apologize in advance for any errors.

Enjoy

Warnings: a little emotional, fluff

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- Vera, are you really that blind? They will remember sooner or later. The hides are incredibly powerful and sensible to magic, might I add. They will not succumb to your wishes. You have to find a different way to convince them to the ideals of the Order. 

The Grand Magus turned away from her sister, huffing out clearly annoyed with the reprimand. 

- I assure you, Aria, your little wolf friends will not pose a threat to us once we induct them into the Order. But first we need to control them. 

- Good God, Vera. These are werewolves, not puppies. You will make an enemy out of them much quicker than you may befriend them. Maybe Jack Morton will be more amicable considering his feelings for miss Drake, however I can’t say the same thing for the rest of them. Lilith won’t forget it. Randall won’t forget it. Hamish won’t…

- Oh please, this again? He doesn’t remember you. He won’t remember you. He will never be back the way you want him to. Deal with it, you big baby. 

- Enough! 

Aria shouted out like an enraged animal sending waves of wind around her settling between the books and furniture fit inside the reliquary. Although Vera never feared her sister’s magic, as the time went by, she started seeing her true power. As much as it didn’t bother her she began worrying if she had overlooked her too much. 

- You don’t get to take him away from me and then rub it in my face, Vera. I don’t care you’re Grand Magus. I don’t care you have the power to destroy me or dispose of me or even kill me. I have loved him for years and there’s no way in Hell I’ll ever stop. Even if he doesn’t remember me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to prepare for tonight. In case you forgot, we are celebrating your new Acolytes. 

Before Vera could mutter a single word, Aria left the reliquary, heading to the one place she knew she could calm down before the upcoming event of the night. It was as if her feet dragged her to the Den by themselves as she felt no control over her body. One lonely tear slid down her cheek as the house showed up in the distance and all the memories, she made there came running down like an avalanche. Pushing all her emotions aside she stepped confidently inside the Den, heading straight for the stairs and eventually to his room. It still looked as neat as it always has. Bed perfectly made but still wrinkled from the last time she slept there. All his clothes hanging in the closet, his vest and shirts and sweaters. His smell lingering in the room as if he never left. But then again, she knew he would never come back there. 

And just as she did it countless times before, she slowly reached for the one cashmere sweater he always loved and she slid it over her head, feeling his scent fill her nostrils. She couldn’t cry anymore as she has already cried many nights hugging his clothes and sleeping in his bed, where they used to sleep together before. Her dark brown hair splayed on his gray pillows as she laid on her back, hugging her arms gently feeling the fabric of his sweater. 

She didn’t feel the time passing by until one moment she heard some noises coming from downstairs. Normally she would have been alarmed by those sounds but she knew perfectly well nobody came down to the Den and so she had no reason to fear uninvited guests, so she didn’t even move, snuggling even more into his pillow. She chose to ignore the silent steps coming up the stairs same way she ignored the slight crack in the door when it swung open. Only then did she sit up on the king-sized bed and looking at the entrance her heart stopped. 

- Hamish? What are you.. I mean, who are you and how did you find this place? You shouldn’t be here…

- Aria, I remember. 

His voice. Soft as ever, calming as a rainy day in the middle of summer. He stood in the doorway dressed in his somewhat usual attire – the pale blue shirt and a vest fitting him so damn well she almost forgot how to breathe. As soon as she heard his words, she slid off the bed, keeping her arms crossed over her chest as she absentmindedly hugged her form still clad in his sweater. 

- You remember…? 

She could barely speak as her she couldn’t believe her eyes. She stood still frozen in place as Hamish quickly approached her, stretching his arms towards her. 

- Come here, you. 

As her last doubt finally fell, immediately she threw herself onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Hamish instinctively hugged her back, hiding his face in her shoulder. Holding her close like he used to so many times before finally felt he was himself again. He breathed in her intoxicating scent as memories flooded his mind. Their first date. The first time he kissed her sweet lips. The first night they spent together wrapped in each other’s arms. Aria was barely registering what was happening around because all her focus was on Hamish and his arms holding her so tightly. She let all her anger and rage and overwhelming sadness out, crying inro his chest like a little baby. She clawed at his arms desperately trying to reassure herself, that it was not a dream. 

- I missed you so, so much, Hamish. Every day was like a reoccurring nightmare watching you live your life without me in it. I could barely stand it. 

- Shh, I’m here now, darling. I’m here, everything is alright now – he kept whispering sweet nothings into her ear, holding her trembling body close to him. Slowly he cupped her cheek with his right hand, forcing her to look at him. She was crying her eyes out, mascara slowly dripping down the corner of her lashes, but to him she was still the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes upon. 

- Don’t you ever forget me again, Hamish Duke. Don’t you even dare. 

- Believe it or not, even when I was supposed to forget you, I remembered. I kept hearing your voice in my dreams, your laughter, seeing you face every night I went to sleep. Missing my darling Aria. 

#hamish duke #the order #the order x reader #hamish duke x reader #imagine #one shot #drabble #fluff #Hamish x reader #knights of saint christopher #the hermetic order of the blue rose #fanfiction

[shellynelsonlahey]

The knights of saint Christopher look so hot in their robes

#the order #Netflix’s the order #the order Netflix #knights of saint Christopher

[bluerosesdiary]

the order (2019-2020)

i love him

#movies & shows diary blog 🎬 #tv show: the order 🎬 #the order #jack morton #knights of saint christopher

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

New Chapter ~ H.D.

A/n: Finally getting more requests out!! Six left :)

Request: “Hamish falling for the reader (male, if thats okay?) who has just been chosen by one of the pelts, and being terrified of losing him because of what happened with Cassie?? Maybe Randall pushes him into confessing by threatening to ask him out himself? (I love a chaotic good wingman )” by anon

MASTERLIST

It had been a long time coming.

Hamish knew what was going on with him. He knew what that feeling in his chest was when he looked at Y/n. He knew why his fingers twitched when Y/n had a hair out of place, or something smeared on his face. He knew why he tended to lean into Y/n, like he was magnetic, and why he protected him more than anyone else. Why he listened to Y/n talk about things that Hamish otherwise found incredibly dull and a waste of time. Why he let Y/n invade his space and do things he’d murder any of the others for doing - like making drinks with his special cups. He knew what it meant when Y/n stole a random shirt and it happened to be Hamish’s and when he wore it around, it made the poor TA unable to move or breathe or think.

If any of that wasn’t obvious enough, he gave himself away with his thoughts. The ones that took him through a day distracted because he was thinking about what Y/n was wearing, or his smile or voice or laugh or touch. The ones that excitedly counted down the seconds until Hamish could see him again. The ones that had him waking up gasping from dreams he did not want to think about... the ones that followed him in the daytime too, dreaming even with his eyes open and smiling to himself at the fantasies his stupid little mind came up and tortured him with.

Hamish knew he was in love with Y/n.

That wasn’t the problem.

Y/n was another TA, and worked for one of the math teachers - physics. They had initially bonded over people thinking their subject boring and hard and ridiculous and unnecessary. The men had exchanged so many jokes about it they’d started to wonder if the other would be able to understand their subject. So they’d done lesson plans together, and then... kept doing that, because it was a lot easier and more pleasant to do it with someone else.

Now they were friends...

But Hamish wasn’t human. Not really. He was a Knight, a wolf. He was caught in a war of magic and moral greyness. One that held either death or misery for everyone who was apart of it. He couldn’t have a relationship in this world - he had tried once, and it had failed. Now more than ever, he was surrounded with failing relationships that reminded even more that it just wouldn’t work.

And even if it did, how could he ever subject Y/n to this world? He was already stressed, even if he did talk about having adventures and becoming a hero. Even if he did like fantasy books and studied mythology lore. Even if he dreamed of more... he didn’t actually understand what he was asking for. While Y/n was busy dreaming of magic, Hamish wished he could join him. Wished he didn’t know. That he had never even looked at or touched or smelled any of it.

And yet, he’s in love with him.

So really it was inevitable.

In one way or another, Hamish expected Y/n to learn what was going on. Learn about the secrets Hamish had been hiding from him. If not the shifty behavior, perhaps the actual magical battle that happened on the porch of the den, or the fear eating demon that went around, or the wolves who had lost their memories freaking out when they heard magic, or the hundreds and hundreds of memory altering spells that began rolling in as magic got closer and closer to being exposed.

He had accounted for everything.

Except for this.

Because how could it go any other way. Right?

Hamish tried to calm his breathing. Tried to clear his mind. Tried to steady his heartbeat. He hadn’t known what to expect when today had gone oh so wrong. Alyssa’s funeral had been today, and Lilith was still trying to get back into hell as they tried to figure out what exactly to do about the whole situation. And... then there was Y/n.

He had come to the funeral mostly to support Hamish. Y/n had only met her once, and it had been brief. She was in his class and had missed a day a while back when she caught the flu. Of course, it had actually been because she was losing sleep trying to come up with a memory dust that would actually wipe the wolves’ minds so they wouldn’t be killed - but details, details right?

The point was, Y/n shouldn’t have even been there. Maybe at the funeral, but not after. Not when the wolves and magicians all gathered around the trunk a way aways from the crowd that had been dispersing. Everyone was going home, and even if they did look over they’d see a bunch of people who had been close to Alyssa gathered together over a trunk. Hamish wondered, looking back, if that was what Y/n had seen. Maybe a trunk of Alyssa’s things, being discussed over.

Whatever he saw, it worried him enough to approach. None of them noticed - they were too distracted by the way the trunk bucked, jerking as if something inside was trying to get out.

They all knew what that meant.

Unfortunately, that made no damn sense. Everyone currently in the group was already wolfed up, except Vera whose face was twisted with horror as she feared that she was about to be chosen by not just any wolf pelt, but Alpha.

It wasn’t Vera.

The chest fell onto its side, stilling for a second.

“Is everything okay over here, guys?”

Hamish watched his life turn into a horror movie in slow motion. Of all the terrible things he’d faced, watching in bullet time as the trunk exploded open and the pelt launched out from inside, swallowing a wide eyed Y/n whole - that was the worst thing Hamish had ever seen or experienced. Nothing could top this.

Thankfully most of the people were gone and Jack acted quickly, rushing Y/n into the woods and even further away from anyone who might see anything. Y/n didn’t seem to be on the attack for anyone specific, but when any of the other wolves went to stop him, Y/n would growl and his teeth would bare and they all felt a pull to obey. To kneel. To listen.

Not even Hamish had seen anyone take to Alpha so well as Y/n.

The next few days had been hectic. Catching Y/n up on the reality of life had been a lot, and with the new emotions of Alpha driving him, his usual placid nature was becoming aggravated. The more they tried to teach or place Y/n in a situation he felt out of control in, the more agitated he seem to become, reactions arranging anywhere from verbally retaliating to literally trying to bite someone’s head off.

The turn for the better had kicked off when Lilith had tried to claw her way back to Hell yet again an Y/n had been able to stop her. She may be a demon, but she had been a wolf first, and as Timber still lived on inside of her, he answered to Alpha before anything else.

It was what seemed to have pushed Alpha to find a host. Timber was trapped in Lilith until she died and if she was a demon, it meant she’d be nearly if not completely immortal. Which meant Timber would be lost forever. The wolves may not totally care about their hosts but they did care about each other - first and foremost.

A weird relationship formed between Y/n and all the other wolves because of this.

Not only did Lilith, a demon, listen to him despite all her best efforts, so did Randall. Even with his dumbest ideas and impulses were satiated by a strong word or look from Y/n. Jack’s craziest plans were paused, and with some pressure they all finally slowed down - which meant they made better plans, but no one was happy about it. Gabrielle tried to flirt to get out from under Y/n’s gaze, which seemed to sear deeply into all of their souls, but even she found her eyes averting when Y/n pressed issues and shut her attitude down, or stopped her when she was lashing out or treating someone badly.

Hamish was weak to Y/n, but the other wolves knew that wasn’t because of Alpha.

The real tragedy was that Y/n wasn’t doing it on purpose. He tried so hard all the time to not to, in fact, and cringed every time he shut down Jack or Randall, or silenced Gabrielle or brought Lilith to a stand still. He recoiled physically when Hamish would stop dead in the middle of a sentence, or how he backed down far too quickly from his team leader role the second Y/n was in the room.

He really couldn’t help it though. Not only because Alpha didn’t hesitate a second to flex his authority over everyone else in the group, but because Y/n was a very assertive person. Never in an overbearing way, but more in a mom friend way. When he spoke, people listened. When his students goofed around or did something stupid all he needed to do was shoot them a look and they’d usually calm down. It wasn’t new that Y/n walked into a room and held authority - it was a problem that he hadn’t earned the authority he had with the Knights. It’s was even by choice - Alpha’s wolf magic or whatever the fuck was forcing the other wolves to listen to Y/n, and it made him the most uncomfortable - even more uncomfortable than Gabby and Lilith who constantly bit that this was incredibly sexist.

The second turn for the better came full circle when Y/n seemed to get his impulses under control.

At first he avoided speaking or eye contact, still radiating that aura of power but containing it as best he could. This is when Hamish would take over again, working with Vera to help the rest of the group.

After that, it was that he could speak, or make eye contact, but not at the same time without triggering some Alpha power. Very quickly he learned how to do both and still not inflict his will on other people.

Then Y/n became a much better leader, making suggestions and letting his own charisma and good ideas influence others rather than influencing everyone via force. He earned his spot the right way, eventually reaching a place where he and Hamish were sort of co-leaders.

Y/n was struggling though. Even with his powers slowly getting under control, Y/n constantly beat himself up and felt horribly guilty when Lilith would freak out and Y/n was forced to use his abilities to stop her from escaping. Then kept her in a demon circle in the basement, trapped for now but ready to escape at any second.

Even with powers aside, Y/n was struggling with this new world he now had to face. He was curious, and asked lots of questions and generally seemed to enjoy it, but... that joy seemed to drain a little, more and more as bad things started to happen. Y/n had thought magic was cool until someone used it for evil, or until the ringing made him shift and kill people, or some seriously fucked up shit started to bubble up.

He struggled to wrap his head around it as they all did in the beginning, and as he battled with his dreams coming true versus realizing those dreams had only been half of the story and that there was actually a darkness to this life he had once wanted, Hamish suffered more and more. His relationships had been hopeless before, but now that was gone. Now it was so much worse, because not only was Y/n’s suffering greater and his view of the world darkened, but Hamish desperately yearned for him.

That was the thing about Y/n. He might have lost some of his vigor, but at his core he still believed that people were more inclined to be good than evil. That those who made bad decisions were just lost, and usually searching for something else entirely but had been convinced that their current way was the only way to get what they really wanted. The vampire wasn’t a sadistic killer, they just needed to eat. The Order wasn’t cruel and power hungry, they were hiding who they really were in a world they feared would reject and attack them. They felt out of control and ultimately scared - being brought to your knees wasn’t for everyone.

His compassion and mercy only made him so much more amazing in Hamish’s eyes. Y/n was a great leader, and even better when he worked closely at Hamish’s side. Randall began to joke that the two men were the Den Mother and Father, which didn’t help Hamish’s poor heart.

As things heated up and the pack got closer and closer, Randall cornered Hamish. “Okay all chaos and shit hitting the fan aside, what is wrong with you?”

Hamish blinked, looking down at the shorter man. “I’m... not sure what you mean.” He knew exactly what Randall meant. Since even before Y/n had been a wolf, Randall had been pushing Hamish to act on his feelings. This pushing had turned to shoving since Y/n had bonded with Alpha, and then escalated into full body tackling when things had regulated and turned into what it was now.

Randall rolled his eyes. “You two are perfect for each other. Why work you do anything?”

“Why won’t he?” Hamish snapped. “Why is it up to me?”

Randall immediately knew that they were getting somewhere. “He tries! He doesn’t flirt or anything, but if he even tries to joke with you, or do anything that normal friends do - if it’s not leading the pack together or doing something school related you shut down. You keep your distance like he’s trying to kill you or something.”

Hamish didn’t have anything to say to that. He just shrugged. When Randall rose an eyebrow, Hamish sighed. “Everything’s really complicated right now. Lilith is finally acting like her old self, and warming up to Y/n. I’m trying to not make it any more complicated than it is.”

Randall scoffed. “It’s always complicated, Hamish. Jack and Alyssa are the best of example that there’s no good time to do this kind of thing, and that sometimes it fails even when you try everything. I mean, look at Nicole and Lilith even, or-“ he cut off for a second, holding something back.

Hamish’s lips twitched just a little. “You and Jack?”

Suddenly Randall looked less confident. It had been a long time coming between them. After Jack had gotten his memories back, his relationship with Alyssa hadn’t been the same. It quickly seemed like he was growing more and more platonic with her, and stopped chasing her altogether. When she died, he had been heartbroken - not for his lost love, but for his lost friend. He had cared about her very differently to the day they’d met and the relationship they’d had after that. Along with that, Jack and Randall had been getting closer and closer, and Hamish was pretty sure there was something going on there.

Hamish was also sure that was why Randall wanted Y/n and Hamish to get together. Not just because he wanted to see the people he cared about happy, but because if they worked out, it meant some hope for Jack and Randall too.

It had been unfair to point out though, and they both knew it. “Feelings are hard and people are complicated, and this weird dynamic between the Order and the Knights isn’t going to get much easier - at least not in our time line. Even if we work together better eventually, there’s still too much history. Even more so with demons in the mix, and these rogue magic users trying to end the world with their pride.” He rolled his eyes, ever trying to ease tension with soft teasing and a joke or two. “It’s never going to be the right time. The right time doesn’t exist - even for normal people. Life is complicated and hard and against everyone.”

Shrugging again, Hamish brushed off the rather good argument. “It’s hard for normal people. And it’s even worse for us. More complicated, and more dangerous, and way more pointless. Don’t we have enough to worry about?”

“Don’t we have enough suffering?” Randall argued. “Haven’t we lost enough? Told ourselves no? Fought our feelings and forgiven people we didn’t want to? Why can’t you let yourself be happy? Adding more suffering into your plate by refusing to allow yourself this is just another goddamn thing that life gets over you. You’re miserable!”

A scoff shot from Hamish. They were both getting agitated, voices rising just a little as they got heated. “Haven’t we lost enough?” Hamish mocked. Not that it had been a dumb question, but that Randall had said the exact reason Hamish was so hesitant to do anything about his feelings and still couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Couldn’t see the simple truth staring him directly in the face.

Before, Randall genuinely hadn’t understood what the big hold up was. As he looked at Hamish now though, it clicked. He softened. “This is about Cassie.”

Cassie.

Did Randall have to say her name? In this conversation that hit hard and cut deep, couldn’t they spare the TA and not force him to relive everything in blinding vibrance? As if the situation itself wasn’t enough. Randall sighed, frowning.

“Every once in a while, I forget.” Randall’s voice was soft. Hamish looked up at him; Randall looked back steadily. “You play cup pong to solve problems and rant about shit so nerdy I can’t even begin to wrap my brain around it. You mix drinks and have all these traditions. You seem... so unphased, by everything. Older too. You’re only a year or so older than me, but you’re just constantly oriented.” He smiled fondly, chuckling. “I always admired your ability to keep it together. To have an open mind and keep going, even when you’re so tired and done and sometimes I think you’re finally going to stop. Give up in some small way or another. And then you don’t.”

For a moment, Hamish can’t look at Randall anymore. He shakes his head. “What’s you’re point?”

“Goddamnit,” Randall sighs. “I can’t imagine what it was like to lose her. You changed so much after that... but you shouldn’t stop yourself from being happy every again.” A pause. “But hell, if you really are decided to lose him, don’t let me stop you. In fact, please give me the sign that it’s cool to make a move. The man is...” Randall tilted his head, smirking, looking off I RK the distance a bit, like he was admiring a memory instead of anything around him. “If you don’t ask him out, I’ll be happy to do it instead.”

Hamish rolled his eyes. They both knew Randall was full of shit. No matter how attractive he found Y/n, his heart was set on someone else. That didn’t stop Hamish from finding himself suddenly very willing to talk to Y/n about his feelings. The real fear had always been losing Y/n, and now a different kind of loss occurred to him.

In all his agony, Hamish had never considered losing Y/n to someone else. Not death or magic or depression or the pressure of their new life or even Alpha. Not to school or students or time or graduation or when they eventually moved onto the next thing. Hamish could lose him, right here, right now, to a pretty smile and shimmering eyes.

Just someone else.

Kicked into gear, Hamish didn’t even give Randall a response. He just shot him a glare and then huffed, turning and pulling out his phone as he began to walk toward the school. He called Y/n. “Hey are you available right now?”

“Like, right at this very second?” Y/n asked. “Um. I’m grading. But I could take a break,” Y/n added hastily. “If you needed something.” He’d been trying to leave things open ended so it was less a shit down or a command and more of a conversation. It made Hamish smile.

“Maybe not need.” Hamish knew he was stalling. That didn’t stop him from doing it though, pretending that he was considering leaving Y/n to his work even as he quickly made his way to Y/n’s form. “If you’re too busy.”

“Never too busy for you,” Y/n answered with a slight chuckle. He got a lot softer when talking to Hamish, a little lighter too. Like the sun was coming out after a cold night, or weight was being lifted off of his shoulders. Like just talking to Hamish was enough to make the burden of life a little easier to bard.

Oh boy.

Please have mercy, he silently begged, more than sure that he was about to get anything but.

“Quick, meet me at your dorm. I do need something, but if we keep it fast you can get back to it.”

Really, Y/n was almost done. He wasn’t stressed about it. He was tired from all the things he’d been keeping track of though, so he didn’t mind keeping the option to keep the hang out short in case he ran out of a social battery completely. So he didn’t tell Hamish that. “Okay, I’ll be down soon.”

Something sharp started to turn in Hamish’s stomach as he tried to not let his brain talk him out of meeting Y/n and going through with what he was about to do. The second he got to the form and saw Y/n’s smile, he thought about bolting... but then he thought about Y/n smiling at someone else. At Randall or maybe even Gabby or someone else entirely. Someone other than him. Suddenly it wasn’t hard to stay in place and approach the other TA.

They both walked toward each other, meeting in the middle. Y/n seemed a little concerned at the intense look on Hamish’s face. “You okay?” He asked gently. A part of him worried there was some horrible news once again, but he got the feeling it would have been a meeting at the Den, or a discussion for when they got together and did their grading if it had to do with the Knights of school.

“Unlikely,” Hamish joked. It fell a little flat and he shook his head, deciding to simply going for it. “Y/n, I...” he looked away, swallowing. Maybe it would have been better if Y/n ended up with someone else... and then something clicked in Hamish’s head. “Our lives are so fucking complicated. Between teaching classes and fighting the forces of evil, I feel like we can never catch a break.” Y/n chuckled and Hamish actually smiled. “But then I’m with you, and you make it all a little bit easier. It’s not complicated with you, and you help me with everything else. With anyone, for either of us, it’s going to be harder. You get what it’s like to be a TA. You know what it’s like to be a college student. What it’s like to be in on this world of magic. What it’s like to be a Knight when there’s the Order, or tourist magic users. What it’s like to be the leader of a team of idiots.” They both laughed again, but this time they were both blushing. “I was so scared to lose you. But... I am. By not acting on my feelings, by letting you pass me by. I’m losing everything - and I’d rather lose you after I’ve gotten to experience what it’s like to have you. Really have you, as mine. And me as yours. We all lose each other eventually, but maybe we can get a few years first.

Voice gone, Y/n could only stare at Hamish. His eyes were full of tears but he was smiling, his lips pressed together as he tried to hold himself together. When Hamish didn’t say anything for a while though, it was obvious that he was waiting for a response though so Y/n tried to manage it. “Are you saying that you want to try something more than what we have? Because if this is one of those ridiculously cheesy love confessions, theoretically, I would say - in this situation - that I’d maybe like to step back for a second. Maybe we could start with a date and then go from there.

Whatever fears had been holding Hamish back before disappeared and he laughed. “I would love to start with a date. Just the two of us.” He tilted his head, suddenly feeling sheepish and silly. “What did you have in mind?”

Y/n smiled. “I was about to finish my grading.” He didn’t want to go back to that nonsense now. This was so much better. “Come inside and I’ll make dinner. Maybe we could make it together, and then play a gam for watch something. Or just talk.”

Nodding, Hamish stapled closer and brushed his knuckles along Y/n’s. They both let a breath of relief out as Y/n intertwined their fingers. It seemed they had a lot to talk about after all. Hamish couldn’t wait.

“Lead the way.”

-

Male reader: @stuckoutsideofthebox @sortzz

#hamish Duke #the order #hamish duke x male reader #male reader #the order x reader #hamish Duke x reader #the order x male reader #hamish Duke imagine #the order imagine #the order of the hermetic blue rose #the knights of saint Christopher

[empirearchives]

Have y’all seen Saint Napoleon?

He’s apparently the Patron Saint of warriors

Anon., St Napoléon: Le Patron des guerriers, Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale

#book: Napoleon and History Painting - Christopher Prendergast #Napoleon #iconography #icon #religious art #napoleon bonaparte #Saint #Christian art #Christianity #napoleonic era #napoleonic #first french empire #French empire #19th century #1800s #france #history #art #Bonaparte #knight #knights

[internetaddict104]

Yeah Riverdale may be absolutely batshit insane, but it’s nothing compared to The Order using a Jason Priestley and Ian Ziering (played by themselves) feud to further the entire plot of season 2

#I think about Jason Priestley and Ian Ziering furthering the plot of season 2 constantly #because like why? it’s so fucking random 😂 #Also hamish saying ‘Jason Priestley?’ in confusion upon seeing him for the first time lives in my head rent free #riverdale #cw riverdale #riverdale cw #the order #the order netflix #the knights of saint christopher

[twpsyn-who]

[SPOILERS FROM 'THE ORDER' - especially in the tags sorry]

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May someone explain to me why there's no fanfiction on AO3 with werewolf!Kyle killing the other two and being forced to join the Knights of Saint Christopher???? Of him finding out about Jack and the two of them being lowkey forced to work together so Kyle doesn't get fucking KILLED by the Order????? You literally have the perfect plot for an enemy to lovers fanfiction RIGHT HERE and you're sleeping on it why exactly?

#I don't understand you guys #the show literally force feeded you with a way to make this ship happen and you're all sleeping on it like wtf #and don't get me started on the knights of saint christopher like- SO MUCH POTENTIAL FOR POLY RELATIONSHIP HERE #and you guys what? ignore it????? I have watched only season 1 but still. you guys could have played around with the memory thingy SO MUCH #yet barely a few people did????? guys?!?!?!? #i'm judging you #and I'm very disappointed #It could have been the slowest slow burn in history too #like they start to slowly get along but Kyle finds out he actually cares Jake and is falling for him when the other is literally DYING #also no fuck you Jake didn't really need to be a werewolf after coming back IF there was someone from the Order with them to heal that #fucking cut. someone with a little more experience (no hate on you Killith) #I wanna look on wattpad too but idk how to find shit on that app #the tags are chaotic and somehow makes finding things for a fandom HARDER #the order netflix #the order #the order season 1 #the order spoilers #Too late for saying 'SPOILERS IN THE TAGS'? probably #the order kyle #the Knights of Saint Christopher #the order jack

[denimbex1986]

'If Peaky Blinders made the Irish actor a household name, will Christopher Nolan’s nuclear blockbuster send him into the stratosphere? He talks about extreme weight loss, hating school and why his next character won’t be a smoker.

Cillian Murphy is struggling with what he can and can’t say about his title role in Oppenheimer, the latest Christopher Nolan epic, such is the secrecy surrounding this film. Murphy is under “strict instructions” not to talk about the content. Which is awkward when you’ve flown to his home in Ireland to interview him specifically about playing the physicist who oversaw the creation of the atomic bomb, later detonated over Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It’s not clear who issued these instructions. Nolan? The studio? The US government? All I know is that as well as Murphy being gagged by hefty NDAs, I am not allowed to see it (“bit unfortunate”, he concedes).

So, yes, here we sit in an empty upstairs room of a restaurant near his house in Monkstown, Dublin, working out how to do this. The room is dark, the sun shining through a solitary Velux lighting his features like a Géricault. The only background noise is the low hum of a wine refrigerator. Murphy loathes interviews, looks visibly tortured at points. But he relaxes when I ask if he’s pleased with Oppenheimer. “I am, yeah,” he says. “I don’t like watching myself – it’s like, ‘Oh, fucking hell’ – but it’s an extraordinary piece of work. Very provocative and powerful. It feels sometimes like a biopic, sometimes like a thriller, sometimes like a horror. It’s going to knock people out,” he adds. “What [Nolan] does with film, it fucks you up a little bit.”

Nolan wouldn’t disagree. The director recently told Wired magazine that some of those who’d seen it were left “absolutely devastated … they can’t speak”. Which sounds like a bad thing, but is related perhaps to the thought of the 214,000 Japanese people, overwhelmingly civilians, who lost their lives when the bombs were dropped. Kai Bird, the historian who co-authored American Prometheus, the 2008 biography of J Robert Oppenheimer upon which the film is based, said he was still “emotionally recovering” from seeing the film, clarifying that it was “a stunning artistic achievement”.

Murphy’s portrayal is said to be astonishing (“Oscar-worthy” is the buzz). This is not unbelievable. While Hollywood might not know him as a leading man, this quietly intense actor has long been celebrated in the UK and Ireland, most notably for his nine-year stint as Tommy Shelby in Peaky Blinders. When he first appeared on our screens, looking like a renaissance painting of Saint Sebastian – chiselled head contrasting with translucent blue eyes – it was impossible not to be distracted. He appeared first on stage in Enda Walsh’s Disco Pigs, then the screen adaptation. Then 28 Days Later; Intermission; Ken Loach’s The Wind That Shakes the Barley. Previous collaborations with Nolan include the Dark Knight trilogy, Inception and Dunkirk, “significant milestones in my career,” he says, adding that Nolan “might be the perfect director”.

It was Nolan’s wife, the producer Emma Thomas, who called Murphy one afternoon at the home he shares with his wife, artist Yvonne McGuinness, and two teenage sons. Nolan doesn’t actually have a telephone, or an email, or computer for that matter: “He’s the most analogue individual you could possibly encounter.” So, Emma said Chris would like a word and passed the receiver, then the director came on the line. “Cillian, I’d love you to play the lead in this new thing,” he said. Murphy tries to recreate his response to this news. “I was lost for words. But thrilled. Like beyond thrilled.” It is characteristic of Murphy that the modulation of his voice barely changes as he expresses this. He was so stunned, he had to sit down. “Your mind explodes.”

In the absence of the three-hour feature, I scrutinise Oppenheimer’s three-minute trailer. It’s a rush of snapshots against the crackling of a Geiger counter. There’s Murphy, short back and sides, lifting 1940s eye goggles; blue and red atoms coming at him fast; orange light; white light; blackout; silence. Massive explosion against the backdrop of space. Overlaid is Murphy’s narration, “We’re in a race against the Nazis / and I know what it means / if the Nazis have a bomb.” There’s Matt Damon looking porky as army general Leslie Groves, director of the Manhattan Project: “They have a 12-month head start.” Murphy, pointing with cigarette: “18.”

He has put back on some of the weight he lost for the part, I’m relieved to see; his skin isn’t quite so taut over his skull and there are freckles over those eagle-wing cheekbones. He was determined to nail the scientist’s silhouette “with the porkpie hat and the pipe”, testing himself to see how little he could eat. “You become competitive with yourself a little bit which is not healthy. I don’t advise it.” He won’t say how many kilograms he lost, or what food the nutritionist told him to cut out. NDA? “Ach, no. I don’t want it to be, ‘Cillian lost x weight for the part’.”

Then again, the hurtling speed at which Nolan worked, crisscrossing the US, made it easy to skip meals. Murphy began to forget about food in the same way he began to forget about sleep. “It’s like you’re on this fucking train that’s just bombing. It’s bang, bang, bang, bang. You sleep for a few hours, get up, bang it again. I was running on crazy energy; I went over a threshold to where I was not worrying about food or anything. I was so in it, a state of hyper …” he gropes for the word, “hyper something. But it was good because the character was like that. He never ate.” Oppenheimer subsisted on little more than Chesterfield cigarettes and double-strength martinis, rims dipped in lime. “Cigarettes and pipes. He would alternate between the two. That’s what did for him in the end,” Murphy adds, a nod to the scientist’s death from cancer in 1967. “I’ve smoked so many fake cigarettes for Peaky and this. My next character will not be a smoker. They can’t be good for you. Even herbal cigarettes have health warnings now.”

I raise method acting and Murphy tilts his head and frowns. “Method acting is a sort of … No,” he says, firm but with a half smile. Oppenheimer had many defining characteristics, not least walking on the balls of his feet and a vocal tic that sounded like nim-nim-nim, but Murphy didn’t want to do an impression. Nolan was obsessed with the Brillo-texture hair, so they spent “a long time working on hair”. And the voice. The real question for Murphy was what combination – ambition, madness, delusion, deep hatred of the Nazi regime? – allowed this theoretical physicist to agree to an experiment he knew could obliterate humankind. “He was dancing between the raindrops morally. He was complex, contradictory, polymathic; incredibly attractive intellectually and charismatic, but,” he decides, “ultimately unknowable.

“Listen, it’s not like a spoiler,” he says, checking himself before he leans in, “but there are incidents in his early life that were quite worrying; very erratic.” They are in the film and the book, he steers. I suspect he is referring to Oppenheimer’s postgrad at Cambridge in 1926, when he placed a poisoned apple on the desk of a tutor towards whom he harboured complicated feelings of inadequacy and jealousy. Arguably, this was attempted murder. But Oppenheimer’s rich New York parents rushed in to bundle him into psychoanalysis. He was diagnosed with “dementia praecox”, a term describing symptoms associated with schizophrenia.

Murphy likes these complex characters; they’re his meat. People that don’t necessarily follow the – yawn – traditional transformative arc of storytelling. Not villains, exactly (although he’s played a few, including Scarecrow in Dark Knight and Jackson Rippner in Red Eye): “Villains are good if they’re well written, but if it’s one note or a trope, then they are dull.” He likes a script to stretch leisurely into all corners of the human condition, “all the shades”. At the same time, you have to understand his exceptional ability to portray interiority, physically manifesting intense human emotion without a word, radiating fierce, consuming energy. Which he does today, actually, when I stray off track.

Although Nolan is usually, shall we say, antiseptic in his approach to romance, Oppenheimer represents a significant shift. He told Wired the love story aspect “is as strong as I’ve ever done”. It features prolonged full nudity for Murphy and Florence Pugh, who plays Oppenheimer’s ex-fiancee, as well as sex, and there are complicated scenes with Emily Blunt, who plays his wife, “that were pretty heavy”. Murphy turns coy: “I’m under strict instructions not to give away anything.”

He asks if I’ve heard of chemistry tests. “They put two actors in a room to see if there’s any spark, and have all the producers and director at a table watching. I don’t know what metric they use, and it seems so outrageously silly, but sometimes you get a chemistry and nobody knows why.” This is a roundabout way of saying his scenes with Blunt and Pugh conjure this magic. His established bond with Blunt (they co-starred in A Quiet Place II) meant “the audience gets something for free”, he says. “You can be immediately vulnerable and open, and try stuff. There were moments where I remember saying, ‘I couldn’t have done that if it wasn’t with you.’”

Murphy, 47, grew up the eldest of four in Cork. His father was a civil servant, his mother a French teacher. They were a middle-class family, musical; his father “can pick up any instrument”, his brother played piano, and they regularly got stuck into “traditional Irish sessions”. Bookshelves were stuffed with literature, the radio often on, the “shitty” TV set not so much. Home life was busy but his parents taught him French and Irish, and sent him to an all-boys academic, rugby-playing private school. “I got all the education” he says, drily.

The story of how much he disliked the Presentation Brothers College, the hard-drinking masculine emphasis, how he found solace playing guitar in a band, is much rehearsed and he says today he doesn’t want “to slag the school off. I hear it’s great now.” Something about this experience seems nonetheless unsettling. He had one friend, who is still his best friend, “so I wasn’t, like, an outcast”. He played rugby for the first couple of years, but abandoned it “because everyone was all of a sudden towering over me.” Was it an unhappy time? He shifts. “It was OK. I was a bit of a messer, like I’d get in trouble and say nothing. It wasn’t the ideal school for me.”

He enrolled in and dropped out of a law degree at University College Cork, which created some friction with his parents (when I ask if his own sons will go to university in Dublin, he says, “Whatever they want”). He continued with the band, his first creative love but the one that got away. When they were offered a contract with Acid Jazz records, he turned it down for a number of reasons, he says, crucially that he didn’t feel good enough. He still writes and plays at home but, no, you won’t be hearing any of his recordings, ever, he says.

It’s a funny thing talking to Murphy. He’s at once garrulous (on the craft, or literature, or ideas) and reticent (pretty much anything else). I sense in previous interviews that he skates over issues close to his heart – such as the expression of emotion in Ireland and the need to teach empathy in schools. But when I try to drill in to these topics, get to the root, he clams shut, emitting energy like a nuclear reactor.

Later, in a different context, he will tell me a truth: “I’m stubborn and lacking in confidence, which is a terrible combination. I don’t want to put anything out that I don’t think is excellent.” But he clearly hates the pantomime of publicity, asking why I am returning to certain topics and repeating lines I’ve read elsewhere. I can almost see him at home with its views towards the Irish Sea, complaining to his wife as they tuck into supper: “Another one, asking the same fucking questions.”

If he could get out of going to Cannes, of standing on red carpets, dressed as is his habit for a funeral, hair shellacked, hands in pockets; if he could turn his back on the coloured-foam mics thrust in his face, he would. He really would. No, it dawns on him now, there’s something even worse than the red carpet; there’s the talkshow rounds. The very word “talkshow” comes out of him like a pain from his ribcage, as if the parcelling out of amuse-bouche anecdotes, offering them up to the forced laughter of that false god of show business, the studio audience, is in itself the most cheapening experience known to mankind.

“I do them because you’re contractually obliged to. I just endure them. I’ve always found it difficult. I’ve said this so many, many times.” Then there’s the double wince of realising that, yes, he’s done it again. He’s laid into the industry that feeds him. His hands raise slowly in surrender. “I want to just caveat this by saying, I’m so privileged. I’m so happy to be doing what I love. I’m really lucky. But I don’t enjoy the personality side of being an actor. I don’t understand why I should be entertaining and scintillating on a talkshow. I don’t know why all of a sudden that’s expected of me. Why?”

There’s an awkward silence. I say that he reminds me of Naomi Osaka, the tennis player who refused to talk to journalists after the French Open in 2021. He says he feels “100%” sympathy with her, “because why should she have to perform?” Then he relents. “But I get it. I get it’s a kind of ecosystem where the film feeds the publicity which feeds the talkshows which goes back and feeds the film, so, like, that’s how it works. I suppose I’m just not good at it. At interviews, at this stuff,” he gestures at me. He says after he leaves me today he’ll be going down the stairs thinking of all the things he’s said and worrying it’s come across all wrong. “Do you know what Sam Beckett said? ‘I have no views to inter.’ I love that. That should be the interview.”

We return to his art, the tension falls away and he’s back to his charming self, charged air evaporating. Since Oppenheimer, he’s also wrapped Small Things Like These, an adaptation of Claire Keegan’s brilliant novella set in 1985 in a small Irish town on the edge of which is a convent and “laundry”. Murphy is a huge fan of Keegan. He remembers reading her 2010 novel Foster on a train and having to pull his hoodie over his face because he was crying so hard. Anyway, he’d wanted to work with the Peaky Blinders director Tim Mielants and they were throwing ideas around in his sitting room when Murphy’s wife suggested Small Things. “No, there’s no way,” Murphy said. “That’s going to be gone already.” But when he called the agent, he found it was available. “I went, ‘No, you’ve got to be fucking kidding.’” Murphy pitched the idea to Matt Damon, who has set up a studio with Ben Affleck. “From there it all just happened really quickly.”

Murphy plays Bill Furlong who, funnily enough, is a man of few words. Keegan’s light-touch writing is everything he loves in art – the sense that you are not being bashed over the head by an idea. That’s how he tries to act, he adds. “I’m always trying to cut lines in scenes, because I feel like you can transmit it. Like when you see a person on a train thinking, or driving a car, and you are purely observing someone and feeling the energy that is vibrating from them. That’s the sort of acting I love. In a lot of film and television, they want to cut those bits to go to the action. I like films that pose the big questions and then leave it to the audience.” Perhaps this is at the heart of his reticence in interviews? That he doesn’t feel the need to explain.

He still finds it “nuts” that the last of the Magdalene laundries closed in 1996, that it was illegal to buy condoms in Ireland until 1985, that divorce was made legal only in 1996. He remembers vividly thousands of people still going to see moving statues in Cork when he was growing up. “Crazy. But, like, how far the country has come since then, we’re so socially advanced now compared with where we were. But you must look back. And art is a better way of doing that than reading all these reports [into the laundries].” (Afterwards, he emails me: “The nation is actually dealing with an unresolved collective trauma. Who knows how long this will take to heal, but I feel strongly that art, film and literature can help with that process. It’s a kinder and gentler sort of therapy. I hope that our movie can help with that in its own little way.”)

Because he’s a nice man, because he doesn’t want me to feel bad about our encounter, and because he’s generous and hospitable, Murphy finishes by telling me some of the best places to visit in Ireland. He and his family are staying here for the summer. They’ve had it with air travel and his home town of Cork is only a couple of hours away. He supplies me with other recommendations: a great book he’s just read, Brian, by Jeremy Cooper, oh, and there’s the Francis Bacon studio exhibition I should catch on my way out.

But before I go, what has he learned from playing Oppenheimer? Foremost, he says, that scientists think differently. He knew this already from playing physicist Robert Capa in Danny Boyle’s Sunshine (2007) and hanging out in Cern, home of the Large Hadron Collider in Geneva, for research. “I had dinner with all these geniuses. I’ll never understand quantum mechanics, but I was interested in what science does to their perspective.” He sought their opinions on subjects that matter – love, politics, our place in the universe, “infinity, or whatever the fuck. Because they have a completely different way of taking in information than we do. I remember one scientist saying, ‘I don’t believe in love. It’s a biological phenomenon, the exchange of hormones between the female and the male. That’s all. Love is a nonsense.’” Murphy taps the table with his hand. “I couldn’t go along with that, obviously.”

#Cillian Murphy #Oppenheimer #Christopher Nolan #Emily Blunt #Florence Pugh #Danny Boyle #Sunshine #Brian by Jeremy Cooper #Small Things Like These #Claire Keegan #A Quiet Place II #Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby #Disco Pigs #28 Days Later #Intermission #The Wind That Shakes The Barley #The Dark Knight Trilogy #Inception #Dunkirk #Scarecrow #Jackson Rippner #Red Eye #Bill Furlong

[awriterofdivinedreams]

Name Meanings/Etymologies of Devil May Cry Characters

Classic Devil May Cry Canon A: Agnus - lamb Alice - noble, of nobility Alex Lowell - to defend, to protect | young wolf Alyssa Martin - rational, noble | warlike, of Mars, warrior Amanda - worthy to be loved Angelina Hagel - messenger of god | farm Arius - warlike, devoted to Ares Arkham - happy

B: Beryl - colour of the sea Bobby - bright fame, shining glory Butler - servant in charge of the wine cellar

C: Carlo - man, free man Cindy - light Chen the Cannibal - dawn, morning, great, tremendous Christopher Lowell - bearer of Christ | young wolf Claude - lame, disabled Credo - I believe

D: Dante - enduring, steadfast, lasting Ducas - leader, to guide, general

E: Elena Huston - bright, shining light | hugh's town, settlement on the hill Elise - oath of God, God is satisfaction Ernest - serious, determined Enzo Ferino - home ruler | iron Eva - life, living one

F: Fredi - peaceful ruler

G: Gloria - glory Grue - shiver, shudder

I: Isaac - he will laugh

J: J.D. Morrison - son of the dark-skinned Jeffrey Turner - pledge of peace, district, traveler | lathe worker Jessica - to see before, god beholds, to behold Joe - he will add Julio - youthful, youth, downy bearded

K: Kalina Ann - viburnum tree, to make red-hot | grace, mercy, favour Kerry Marcus - dark, dark-haired | warlike, dedicated to Mars Kyle - narrow, strait, channel Kyrie - lord

L: Lady - noble, bread kneader Lucia - light Lynn Marcus - lake | warlike, dedicated to Mars

M: "Mad Dog" Denvers - crazy, insane | canine | green valley Margaret - pearl Mary - bitter, beloved, drop of the sea Matier - friend, friendly Michel - who is like God Mike Hagel - who is like God | farm

N: Nell Goldstein - bright, shining light, weaver, merciful, god is my light | gold stone, touchstone Nero - black, strong, powerful Nesty - place to sit down, pure, chaste Nicoletta “Nico” Goldstein - victory of the people | gold stone, touchstone Nina Lowell - little girl | young wolf

P: Patty Lowell - noble, patrician | young wolf Patty Lowell (heiress) - noble, patrician | young wolf Paul - small, little, humble

R: Rock Goldstein - crag | gold stone, touchstone Roy Martin - king, red, redhead | warlike, of Mars, warrior

S: Sally - princess, noblewoman Santa Claus - saint, holy | victory of the people Sanctus - holy Simon - he has heard, flat-nosed Soldier “Crew Cut” - mercenary | short-length haircut Solemnis - annual, ceremonial, religiously fixed Sparda - sword, simple, frugal

T: Tiki - hope, waterfall, image Tim - to honour

V: V “Vitale” - Roman numeral for five | life giving, lively Vergil - flourishing Vincent - to conquer

X: χ (Chi) - christ, Greek numeral for six hundred

BOSSES and/or DEMONS

A: Abigail - father's joy Argosax - bright, shining Agni - fire, flame Artemis - butcher, safe

B: Bael - lord, master Balrog - demon of might Baul - snail, slow like a snail Beastheads - wild animal | top of body, leader, ruler Belphagor - lord of the gap, lord of the opening Beowulf - bee wolf, war wolf, bear Berial - worthless Bolverk - evildoer, worker of evil Bradley - broad meadow Brian Lowell - noble, high, hill, strong | young wolf

C: Cavaliere Angelo - knight, horseman, rider | messenger of god Cerberus - hound of the earth, black wolfhound, death-darkness

D: Dagon - grain, fish Demon of Capulet City - spirit | hat | citizen Demon of Morris Island - spirit | dark-skinned | watery land Director - to guide Doppelganger - double-goer, double-walker

E: Echidna - snake, viper Elder Geryon Knight - old | earth | boy, youth, servant

F: Freki - greedy, ravenous Frost - to freeze Furiataurus - fury of the bull, furious bull

G: Geri - rules with a spear, greedy Geryon - earth Gigapede - giant foot Gilgamesh - the ancestor is a hero Gilver - [ERROR 404: meaning of word not found]

Gilbert - bright pledge

Goliath - to uncover, reveal, running, destroyer Griffon - curved, bent

H: Hell Vanguard - to cover, conceal | before guard

I: Infested Chopper - to attack, hostile | helicopter Infested Tank - to attack, hostile | reservoir of water

J: Jester - reciter of romances, minstrel Jokatgulm - [ERROR 404: meaning of word not found]

K: King Cerberus - ruler | hound of the earth, black wolfhound, death-darkness

L: Leviathan - to twist, coiled

M: Machiavelli - bad little nail Mad Hatter - crazy, insane | maker of hoods, maker of cowls Malphas - mischief Modeus [Asmodeus] - wrathful spirit, demon of wrath Mundus - world

N: Nefascapitis - head of sin, head of violation of divine law Nefasturris - tower of sin, tower of violation of divine law Nefasvermis - worm of sin, worm of violation of divine law Nelo Angelo - black, strong, powerful | messenger of god Nevan - little saint, little holy one Nidhogg - malice striker Nightmare - a female demon suffocates sleepers Nina Lowell (demon) - little girl | young wolf Noctpteran - night wing

O: Orangguerra - war orangutan

P: Phantom - an apparition, specter Plesio - near, close Plutonian - relating to wealth, relating to riches Pride - brave, pomp, valiant Priest - one who leads cattle

Q: Qliphoth - husks, empty shells

R: Red Eye - airplane flight that deprives travelers of sleep, raw and inferior whiskey Rudra - howler, roarer, to cry

S: Sara - princess, noblewoman Secretary - one entrusted with secrets Sid - wide Sloth - indolence, slowness, laziness

T: Tartarussian - relating to a deep pit Tateobesu - vertical, length, height | fat, stout, plump The Savior - the one who saves others Trismagia - three magicians

U: Urizen - your reason, to limit

W: White Rabbit - bright, shine | young rabbit

Ninja Theory's DmC: Devil May Cry Canon

A:  Assiel - created by god

B: Bob Barbas - bright fame, shining glory | beard, uncle, stammering

D: Dante (DmC) - enduring, steadfast, lasting

E: Eva (DmC) - life, living one

H: Hollow Dante - empty place | enduring, steadfast, lasting Hollow Kat - empty place | pure, clear Hollow Vergil - empty place | flourishing Hunter - one who chases wild animals

K: Kat - pure, clear

L: Lilith - spirit of the night

M: Mundus (DmC) - world Mundus's Spawn - world | to spread out, expand

P: Phineas - mouth of brass, dark skinned, serpent's mouth

S: Sparda (DmC) - sword, simple, frugal Succubus - to lie beneath

V: Vergil (DmC) - flourishing

#Devil May Cry #Dante Sparda #Vergil Sparda #Nero Sparda #Eva Sparda #Sparda #Patty Lowell #Lady DMC #Trish Sparda #Too lazy to add more character tags #The written word #Tis mine #Helpful tips #I make lists when I'm bored #Name Meanings #Word Etymologies #Writer’s Random Research #nicoletta goldstein

[fluffypotatey]

Just read "The Shrine of Emrys" again and uh. Bro. You know how there's different feast days for saints like St. Florian, St. Christopher, etc?

Do you think the Druids have an Emrys Day?

Maybe they celebrate it with flowers and a feast of Emrys's favourite offerings and children make butterflies from parchment/cloth/leaves/whatever and maybe they also burn Uther in effigy.

Arthur is deeply conflicted on that one because a part of him is like "Yeah that's fair" and another part is like "guys, that's my dad, c'mon". The knights get a kick out of it, tho. Some more than others *cough*Gwaine*cough*

Merlin is lying facedown in the dirt and screaming into a lump of moss.

you reread my fics 🥺

but yeah yes, i already headcanon that they celebrate Emrys's "birth" or at least when the magic community was notified that Emrys will be present in this generation. so yeah they go all out to celebrate.

#sorry it's late for me rn so i'm very touched and also very delirious #druids added the “burn Uther stuff” on purpose bc they knew Arthur was coming #it's to assert dominance #or maybe see how willing Arthur is about his promise #bbc merlin #headcanons #arthur pendragon #merlin the eldritch horror #merlin the eldritch horror/deity to the magic community #merlin would panic maybe for a couple hours but then he would gradually loosen up to the feast bc it's HIS feast day so MIGHT AS WELL #new stress for arthur unlocked: merlin partying with druids and gwaine

[unholly-reader]

Missus Duke - Hamish Duke x fem!reader

A/N:

Welcome lovely people, here comes another piece about our favorite werewolf acolyte! Hope you enjoy <3

As always, bear in mind English is not my first language.

This one is a bit longer so be warned! Lots of emotional crap and fluffy bits with a teeny, tiny hint at some freaky action.

************************************************************************

Walking inside the den Beatrice wasn’t sure what to expect. The sole fact that her fiancé was a werewolf baffled her as to how he could have kept this a secret from her but then again she has been doing the same thing in regard to her being a member of the Order. Still, the trust they have established over the years they’ve been together began to falter as she entered the old house, where the Knights established their lair. She’s been there before, but briefly and still unaware of the werewolf company she has kept for the past few years. Entering the building now was more of a venture into the unknown rather than visiting an old friend. Righty of the bat she heard Randall and Lilith frantically discussing something but at first she wasn’t able to make out the exact words. Only when she entered the living room still unnoticed, she registered three words that made her freeze in place. 

- Hamish got hurt. 

Suddenly nothing else mattered as she quickly approached the two Knights, immediately grabbing their attention. 

- What do you mean “Hamish got hurt”? What happened? Was he attacked? 

Both Lilith and Randall turned around in a blink of an eye, the girl still holding her phone on speaker with Jack’s name clearly visible on the screen. The pair standing before seemingly lost their ability to speak and unsurprisingly the person to reply to her question was none other than mister Morton. 

-  Is that Beatrice? What are you doing there?

- Apparently saving the day. You take care of your things, I got this covered. 

Before he could even answer, Beatrice hung up on him, focusing on the two standing in front of her, still unsure how to react. 

- Bea, what do you mean? And what are you doing here? Hamish is not here so… - started Randall but didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence as Beatrice interrupted him midsentence. 

- Cut the bullshit, Randall. I know you’re werewolves and I know Hamish is one too. I need to know what happened to him and where he is now?

Although Randall was utterly shocked hearing Bea’s words, Lilith was quicker to shoot back as she stood tall, raising her head a bit to look properly at the taller woman. 

- And how do you know about werewolves anyway, Beatrice? I don’t think they teach about lycanthropy in law school. 

As she realised there was no hiding the truth now, she rubbed her temple and gripped her hips staring the black-haired girl down. 

- You really are smarter than you look, miss Bathory. As you’re clearly implying, yes – I am a member of the Hermetic Order of the Blue Rose, but right now that doesn’t matter. I need to know where Hamish is and how badly he got hurt. 

Lilith’s eyes glowed silver as her fangs revealed themselves. That was Timber acting up only fuelled by his champion’s hatred for the entire Order. 

- You don’t belong here. Your place is back with the Order, all of you psychotic lunatics. You want to know how he got hurt? One of your idiot disciples stabbed him in broad daylight. In human form. 

Before Beatrice could truly understand Lilith’s words, the doors opened wide and through then entered the universities mascot stumbling badly on its legs. The Timber Wolf took off its head and revealed a hurting Hamish beneath. 

-  A little help here? 

Immediately Lilith calmed down and all three of them rushed to Hamish. Bea was the first one to get to him, quickly grabbing his arm and swinging it over her shoulders. Randall came to his other side, mimicking Beatrice’ actions.

- Did you ditch them? – asked Lilith, leading her friend inside.

- For now. 

Hamish stared at the both of them and then took a second look as he realised the person holding his right arm was his fiancée who had no reason to be in the den. Most definitely she should not have seen him like that. 

- Bea? 

The brunette didn’t acknowledge his question as she and Randall led the hurt man to the couch where they gently laid him down. 

- Where did they get you? – asked Randall as he and Lilith both helped their leader out of the upper part of the wolf costume, while Beatrice stood back staring at the blood covering her fiancé’s shirt. 

They could have killed him.

- Right here – said Hamish, gasping out while lifting his shirt over his right side and revealing a nasty stab wound infested with greenish foam oozing out of the cut. Once the odour hit Lilith and Randall, they immediately felt heir breakfast coming back up their throats. 

- Jesus, this smells even worse than it looks – exclaimed Lilith, hiding her nose in her arm similarly to Randall who already presented with a gag reflex. 

- It’s like if vomit and sulphur had a baby – added Randall, covering his mouth with his hand. 

Beatrice quickly regained her focus as she concentrated on the still bleeding wound gaping in Hamish’s side. Carelessly she pushed Lilith away, taking her place next to the blonde and quietly examining the cut. The girl growled at the older woman, but she didn’t pay any attention to the protesting werewolf as she rolled up the sleeves of her dark green jacket and looked up to meet her lover’s stare. 

- It’s okay. I’ve got you now – whispered Beatrice gently with a hint of apology in her voice.

Bea reached inside her university bag and grabbed her engraved knife with confidence subsequently slicing her hand open. Hamish was baffled observing his fiancée’s every movement, too stunned and in too much pain to utter a single word. Bea carefully placed her uninjured palm over his wound and brought the bleeding one to her mouth as she muttered the correct incantation. 

- Restituattur. 

Suddenly, Hamish felt the pain disappear and all that was left of it was a nasty memory and blood covering his skin. He looked down at his side and there was no signs of his injury. Beatrice quietly retreated, standing up while throwing her knife back in her bag. All three Knights marvelled over her work as Randall poked at Hamish’s skin in the exact place where the stab wound gaped just seconds before. 

- Okay, but seriously, this is some cool shit, Trixie – said Randall amused and astounded at the same time, turning his head to Beatrice, who was wrapping the cut on her palm with some tissue she found in the pockets of her jacket. 

- Not all magic is bad, Randall. Sometimes it’s really helpful. 

Hamish looked up at her as he stood on his own two feet, still clad in the pants and boot sof the Timber Wolves mascot. There were so many thoughts running through his mind, but the one reoccurring over and over again was the lie. 

She lied to me.

He was painfully aware that those skills did not come to the members of the Order with ease so it was only logical to assume she’s been a practitioner for a longer period of time, which meant she has been lying to him for years. There were now words that came to him at that moment except what he actually wanted to say despite her deception. 

- You saved my life – he stated simply, staring at her without as much as a blink.

Beatrice felt the guilt running through her veins, still trying to remember he lied to her just as much, but the guilt trip was about something other than keeping their societies a secret for all those years. Her disciples attacked the love of her life. If she wasn’t there, Hamish might not have made it out alive. The sheer thought of losing him was the most terrifying thing she’s felt in a very long time. She gulped quietly, squeezing her still bleeding hand never taking her eyes off of Hamish’s blue orbs staring at her shamefully. 

- I couldn’t let you die – said Beatrice like it was the purest truth in the world. 

Silence fell over the room as the two Knights witnessing this unusual lover’s quarrel stood quietly waiting for the grand finale. That is until Lilith decided that her rage was more demanding than she could manage and so Timber took over the reins, growling at the intruder. 

- Yet it was your idiot wizard who almost killed him. 

- You have no idea what you’re talking about Lilith, so I suggest you stay out of this. 

- Why don’t I give you a taste of your own medicine, you bitch.

What happened next was an insane chain of events, one following the other and all in the matter of thirty seconds. Lilith launched herself at Beatrice who was completely defenceless without her knife as she watched the werewolf girl jump at her. Those few seconds when Hamish watched Lilith attack his fiancé felt like hours when he battled between his integrity and his love for Beatrice. There wasn’t much time to waste on logical thinking or reasons why he should do this or that, but in the end the heart won. Swiftly as the lightning hits the ground Hamish ran ahead, jumping in front of Beatrice and throwing Lilith into the couch he occupied just seconds before. His eyes glowed like silver strikes as he growled viciously at his wolf sister standing before Bea like a human shield. She barely noticed his actions as she awaited the impact but when she saw his back in front of her and his arms spread out in a protective manner a part of her felt some sort of relief. He was still her Hamish. 

- That’s enough, Lilith. Stand down. 

His voice was powerful and strong. He sounded like a leader should. Calm and collected but still firm. Beatrice peeked over his shoulders and saw Lilith slowly rising from the couch, eyes still shining with silver. The girl was clearly fuming with anger but the hide inside her heard his command and obeyed.

- She’s one of them Hamish. How can you defend her?

- She’s my fiancée. She has just saved my life. We have bigger concerns on our hands. We must deal with Kyle and his little death squad first. 

Bea furrowed her eyebrows shocked to hear Kyle’s name mentioned as the one leading the attack. 

- That moron? 

***

After Midnight returned to his locker following Kyle’s unfortunate death at the hands of Gabrielle Dupres, the Knights returned to the Den for the traditional après-kill drink. Hamish sipped on the red liquor swimming in his glass as his thoughts kept running back to his fiancée. Now that he knew the whole truth about Beatrice Stone a war has started between his heart and mind, both equally convincing and both screaming in his head. Even as they toasted their victory, he was clearly someplace else and his loss in thought did not go unnoticed by his comrades. 

- You okay, Hambone? – asked Randall. 

Hamish raised his eyes to the brown-haired boy nodding his head silently. Lilith glanced at Randall knowingly as they simultaneously grabbed one of his arms and slowly dragged him upstairs. Once they reached the couch the sat the man down, took the drink out of his hand despite his loud protest. 

- Excuse you, I need that glass. 

- You need to spill, Hamish. You’ve been staring into nothing like Grinch on Christmas Day – explained Randall, crossing his arms over his torso – Now talk, mister. 

- There is nothing to talk about, Randall. Now give me that drink – denied Hamish, reaching out for the crystal glass in his friend’s hand.

- Don’t bullshit us – intervened Lilith, taking the glass in her own hands and putting it back on the bar before turning to face him again – You were stabbed, almost died, found out your fiancée is a member of the Order and all of that in the span of what, two hours? 

- Wow, thank you for summing up this fiasco in one sentence. That really helps – said Hamish, huffing. 

- We just want to help you – replied strongly Randall, sitting next to his leader – We both know how much you love her. You literally talk about her every single day. What was it you said the other day after those negronis? “Bea is the butter to my bread, the breath to my life”. This is still the same woman, Hamish. 

- Yes, but this one has been lying to me for the better part of our relationship. Hell, she may have been lying to me from the very beginning. I’m not sure if I really know her or is it just the pretty picture she sold me over the years. Is her name really Beatrice? Does she really like cats better than dogs? Does she really like my drinks?

- Hold your horses there, my friend – said Randall calmly, patting his arm gently – We met her too. She was real. She is real. I think she may have even liked me. What I know for sure is that she loves you.  

Hamish turned his head to face Randall, suddenly so grateful for his goofy demeanour and never-ending positive attitude. 

- I really hope you’re right, dude. Because I know I am in love with her. I can’t even try to hate her, which is kind of frustrating. 

- You should go talk to her. 

This time it was Lilith still looking down at the heartbroken man. Hamish furrowed his eyebrows as he shot her a glance of surprise. 

- Weren’t you the one who tried to rip her throat out just today?

The black-haired girl shook her, rolling her eyes back. 

- I am still not a fan of the witch and her magic buddies, but she came through for you. She saved you and you didn’t hesitate to jump to her rescue. It’s clear as day you mean to each enough to look past your mistakes. 

Apparently, Lilith’s speech was all that Hamish needed to get up and run out without a second thought. He grabbed his phone and car keys on the way and quickly left the Den, leaving his two comrades grinning like idiots. 

- We should start a couple’s therapy clinic, cause we’re damn good at this shit – exclaimed Randall, downing the rest of his drink in one gulp.

***

The ride to their apartment in Norwich felt agonizingly slow as he drove past the red lights and other cars, impatient to get to the building. Upon arrival he didn’t even bother with parking his black BMW properly, instead just carelessly left the car in the middle of the private parking place and ran out to the door. As usual he was greeted with a polite “good evening, Mr Duke” but he was too busy running to the elevator to acknowledge the kind security guard. The elevator seemed to be taking forever to get down so instead he chose to sprint seven storeys up to get to their shared apartment, praying Beatrice was there. Without thinking twice, he pushed the door open and entered the dimly lit flat. 

- Beatrice? Are you here? 

The living room connected with the kitchen and the mini bar they had installed for his alcoholic beverage’s construction was quite dark except for two dim lamps on the underside of the kitchen cupboards, but the main source of light was their bedroom. It was also the room from which Hamish clearly heard hangers ruffling in the closet. Quickly he made his way to the bedroom and found Beatrice fishing out her clothes from the closet and chucking them inside the giant suitcase which laid open on the neatly made bed. Hamish felt a pin in his heart, seeing his fiancée moving out of their apartment and out of his life. 

- Bea, stop it – said Hamish firmly, grabbing the woman’s attention. 

Beatrice turned around with two hangers in her hands, tear stains covering her cheeks. She froze in place as she gripped the hangers in her palms. On one of them hung the satin red dress she wore to the dinner, when he proposed to her just a few months prior. Just seeing the dress brought a wave of memories to the both of them. Hamish looked into her glassy blue eyes, unsure of his own words and actions, but certain of his feelings. 

- I still remember how you took my breath away when I first saw you in that dress. I swore I could marry you right there and then.

His voice was just above whisper, but she heard him clearly. She swallowed her tears, feeling a corner of her mouth rise involuntarily. 

- I had to pinch your arm because you stood still like a deer in headlights – chuckled Beatrice, remembering the day as if they just lived it. 

Hamish smiled fondly at the memory, never taking his eyes of her blue orbs glossy with new coming tears. 

- I was certain you were the woman I would call mine for the rest of my life. 

- I knew you were the love of my life. 

Silence fell on the two lovers as they stared at each other unsure what comes next. They both lied to the person they love most. They both did it to protect the other. Was it reason enough to accept living a lie for four years?

- You can’t leave, Bea. I won’t let you – stated Hamish, slowly approaching his fiancée. 

- Hamish, I lied to you – said Beatrice with a shaky voice – I have been lying to you from the beginning. I have been doing the Order’s bidding, my sister’s bidding and now Coventry’s. I could basically become the new Temple Magus in Washington if I didn’t refuse it because I couldn’t leave you. I am so deep inside the Order sometimes the only thing keeping me sane in my life is you. I am a pathological liar, Hamish. 

- I lied too. I have been a Knight for the past eight years. I’ve led the Knights for the past six years. I’ve attacked and defended and did some thing I’m not proud either, even if I believe in the cause we serve. 

- Your pack literally hates my guts.

- The Order is hunting werewolves down. 

- I can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt because the Order, Hamish. 

- I can’t imagine my life without you, Beatrice. 

The honesty in his tone was almost murderous. She felt his words crawling down her skin as she tried with all her will not to fall apart and into his arms the second he touched her. When he finally did place his hands on the hangers and took them out of her palms, she seemed to have lost her balance for a second. Carefully he placed her dresses back in the closet, brushing against her arm only to return to his previous spot standing before her and looking into her eyes. Beatrice tilted her head up as he was a bit taller, barely standing his intense gaze. 

- The Order is your enemy. Werewolves and practitioners are enemies.  

- Are you my enemy?

Beatrice sucked in her next breath as she felt his hand reach for her own gently intertwining their fingers. She couldn’t look away as if his gaze was a magnetic force and she couldn’t overpower it. With his free hand he slowly reached to her cheek wiping away the fresh tear that fell down her eyelashes. Her whole body was trembling beneath his touch just like she always did when he was this close. His scent was driving her crazy, muting her senses and blinding the reason she always followed. It was only after a few moments of undisturbed silence that she spoke up, giving up all her will power to the love she knew was stronger than anything she has ever witnessed in her life. 

- You own my heart and my soul, Hamish. I could never knowingly stand against you. 

Beatrice barely got to finish her sentence before Hamish crashed their lips together, habitually wrapping his arms tightly around her form and pushing her flush against him. An uncontrollable moan escaped her mouth as she melted right into his embrace, entangling her fingers in his silky hair. They were used to messy kisses, those filled with lust and passion and always ending in their bed or other less comfortable places in their apartment, but this was different. The urgency in their movement, hungry lips learning each other like it was the first time, greedy hands trailing invisible paths down their bodies. The act itself felt less like a physical form of dealing with the recent events, but like the final stage of accepting who they are as individuals and who they become as one body, one mind and one soul. When breath came to call they broke apart, but never left each other’s embrace, resting their foreheads against one another. Both were breathing heavily, chest heaving up and down at an astounding pace but all that didn’t matter when they knew they had each other despite everything that happened and will happen in the future. 

Hamish could hear Bea’s heart beating like a hummingbird locked in a golden cage. He felt the way she shifted in his arms, trying to get even closer than she already was. Suddenly everything was back to normal. She was his, he was hers. The Order didn’t matter. The Knights didn’t matter. In the silence they exchanged wordless vows promising to protect the love they found in the chaos of their lives. Truth was simple and in plain sight. There was no life for Hamish without Beatrice and there was no life for Beatrice without Hamish. Not even their allegiance to enemy societies could tear them apart. 

- We’re going to figure it out. I don’t know how or how long it will take but there’s one thing I am certain about. You are my life, Bea. I don’t care what anybody else says, you’re the one thing I can’t live my life without. 

Beatrice looked up, catching his longing gaze with her teary eyes. She could see all that he didn’t say but felt within. All the love, the adoration, the promise of life by her side. 

- And I can’t live without you. I can’t breathe without you. To hell with the Order, to hell with Coventry. If I have you, nothing else matters. I love you, Hamish. More than anything. More than life. 

The blonde man gently squeezed her sides, bringing her impossibly close as he pecked her lips quickly, but fiercely. He had this bewildered look on his face as if suddenly he swallowed all the energy in the world and was just ready to release it all back like a supernova. 

- You have no idea how happy I am that you said that. But all things aside, your magic? That was incredible! I can’t even wrap my head around it. You must teach me sometimes. 

Beatrice laughed out gleefully, wrapping her arms tightly around Hamish’s neck, gently nudging his nose with her own. 

- A Knight of Saint Christopher’s willingly asking to be taught magic? Dear God, a true miracle. 

Hamish smiled wildly, staring lovingly at the woman in his arms. All the emotions he felt flying through his mind, he could barely register them all. The happiness, the hope, the overwhelming joy, the relief all flooded him at once, buy unlike before he felt more at peace than ever. Instead of a hurricane he was standing in the soft rain in the middle of summer. Gently he released Beatrice from his grip, turning towards the bed, where the half-filled suitcase laid wide open. Without a word he reached for the clothes already inside and started unpacking it. 

- Since you’re not going anywhere, I believe these belong back in the closet. 

- But only if I am the one to put them away – agreed Beatrice, taking the clothes from her fiancé’s hands – If you start putting my clothes back in, I will never be able to find anything again, so move aside, Mister Duke. 

- If you say so, Missus Duke – replied Hamish cheekily, relinquishing his grip on the hangers. 

Beatrice turned rapidly to face him, almost dropping the dress she was hanging back in the closet. She raised her eyebrows at him bewildered by the name. 

- What did you say?

- If you say so, Missus Duke. 

The sheer tone of his voice, so sultry and alluring made her weak at the knees. Trying to shake off the effect he clearly had on her, Bea turned back to hang the dress she was holding, when she heard the suitcase gently hit the floor beside the bed. The next thing she knew Hamish had his arms around her middle, standing right behind her with his chest lightly touching her back. Every place his fingers touched her body felt like electricity running over her skin as he gently slid his palms beneath the white flowy shirt she was wearing, running invisible traces over her stomach and ribs. He felt her shaking under his hands and smiled wickedly, proud of how she reacted to his even smallest actions. 

- I don’t see a wedding ring in my left hand yet, Mister Duke – whispered Beatrice, leaning into Hamish as his hands roamed freely over her skin. 

- A small technical issue I will see to first thing tomorrow – purred Hamish, tracing her neckline with his nose – But right now we have more pressing matters to attend to. 

***

Beatrice heaved heavily as she laid her head over Hamish’s bare chest regaining her breath after the last few hours they spent in their bedroom. 

- Now I understand why you never got tired. Werewolf durability.

Hamish laughed heartily, wrapping hir arms around her body and kissing her temple gently. 

- Darling, believe me. The werewolf part is just a small particle of my endurance. Mostly it’s the fact that my future wife is the sexiest woman on planet Earth, and I can’t control myself around her. 

Bea raised her eyes, looking up at a very smug looking Hamish grinning like an idiot. She propped herself on her elbow, resting her free hand flat on his chest. 

- Say it again. 

- What?

Beatrice shook her head quickly pecking his lips. 

- You know what. 

Suddenly his gaze softened as he expertly tucked a rouge whisp of her chocolate hair behind her ear. For a moment he remained silenced as he admired her flushed cheeks and sparkling blue irises looking back at him with so much love and adoration he could burst. Gently, he cupped her face, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb never breaking eye contact. 

-  My future wife.

#hamish duke x reader #hamish duke #the order #lilith #lilith bathory #randall carpio #the order imagine #the Knight of Saint Christopher #Hamish duke imagines #fanfiction #Vera Stone #Hamish Duke

[soulyoh]

Brain Farts

Courtney thinks in music sometimes:

Scott as Piano Concerto No. 1 in B Flat Minor, Op.23, Th 55: 1 Allegro non troppo e molto maestoso by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

Brick as Symphony No.40 in G Minor, K. 550: I. Molto allegro by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Geoff as Mephisto Waltz No. 1, S.514 by Franz Liszt

Duncan as Dense Macabre, Op.40, R.171 by Camille Saint-Saëns

Justin as Prokofiev: Romeo and Juliet, Op.64, Act 1, Scene 2: Dance of the Knights

Gwen as Symphony No.9 in E Minor, Op.95 "From the New World" : IV.Allegro con fuoco by Antonín Dvorák

Brody as Orfero ed Euridice, Wq.30: Dance Of The Furies by Christoph Willibald Gluck

Heather as Dies Irae by Giuseppe Verdi

Noah as Masquerade - Ballet Suite: 1. Waltz by Aram Khachaturian

LeShawna as Violin Concerto No.1 in A minor, BWV 1041: I.( Allegro moderato) by Johann Sebastian Bach

Bridgette as Flute Parita in A Minor , BWV 1013: I. Allemande by Johann Sebastian Bach

#scott total drama #td courtney #td scott #td duncan #duncan total drama #brick total drama #brick td #td brick #courtney total drama #total drama #geoff total drama #td geoff #justin total drama #td justin #total drama gwen #td gwen #total drama heather #td heather #noah total drama #td noah #total drama leshawna #td leshawna #classic songs #total drama ideas

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

So About That ~ J.M.

A/n: Aaaaaand that leaves one request left 👀 Opening requests soon!

Request: “...jack morton x Vera son reader ( bring back the only reader I can see jack with 😂) we’re veras son knows magic but doesn’t join the order because he’s a better witch by himself ( learned that from his mom) and he started to date jack but Vera does not know and jack does not know until the reader wants to introduce jack to his mom over dinner.” By anon

MASTERLIST

Y/n really hadn’t meant to keep it all a secret. He was a pretty blunt and straight forward person, something he’d gotten from his mom. He hadn’t gotten much from her, so his fire Cracker determination, self respect, and power were things he had always been proud of.

The fact that his mom was Vera Stone just hadn’t come up with his boyfriend, the same way that Jack Morton being his boyfriend had never come up with his mom.

It wasn’t even like either of them talked about the other all that often. Vera and Jack had always had an unspoken respect for each other, and refused to accept that they also had a bit of a soft spot for the other person as well. Getting close at all, or talking, would have required them to acknowledge said unspoken soft spot, and neither of them were willing. So they didn’t even talk to other people about it.

Y/n held onto that as a reason that this wasn’t his fault.

When he’d organized a dinner for his boyfriend and mom to meet, he hadn’t known that they had all that much between them. When they’d both shown up and seen each other though, from the reactions Y/n had gotten, there was obviously some tension there. For a split second Y/n had been terrified that Vera and Jack were maybe sleeping together or something. The way they reacted, with awkwardness and avoidance, gave this very weird energy - and his mom had mentioned that she had been seeing someone. Someone younger; one of the new Knight of Saint Christopher that had joined the Order. She hadn’t wanted to talk about who though, and Y/n was completely sure that Jack would never cheat on him so he hadn’t thought for a second it even could have been possible. In that moment, he’d doubted.

But then Jack had spoken. “I thought you only had a daughter. In the memories, with the Sons of Prometheus, how did I not-?”

“Because I made sure not to think of him,” Vera responded sharply. “I didn’t want you anywhere near him.”

Y/n raised his eyebrows. “More likely you didn’t want the Sons of Prometheus anywhere near me,” he remarked, and only then did Jack and Vera remember he was still there. “My sister did die, yeah, but I didn’t. My mom doesn’t often talk about me; she has a lot of enemies and as I’m not associated with any specific society, I’m more vulnerable than most people.”

Jack seemed surprised. “So I didn’t just miss you - you’re not apart of the Order.” They were both magic users, and after running into the wolves, Y/n knew about the Knights too. Y/n had spoken to Jack about the Order first, so Jack had assumed he knew someone in it other than him. Every time he’d asked, Y/n had been vague. Now it made sense - Vera could get in trouble if it got out that her son was free lance.

“I see.” Jack’s comment was the last to be said for a few minutes. The awkwardness was suddenly so thick and choking that even Y/n didn’t know what to do to combat it. Usually he had a way of calming intensities and grounding people. Directing things in a functional way that leaned experienced more pleasantly.

He was at a loss now.

“So,” Y/n eased awkwardly, sheepishly smiling. “Nice macaroni, hm?” He took a large bit of his Mac N’ Cheese, nodding to his boyfriend and mother to do the same.

Vera and Jack looked at each other as if to say, This guy... Then they both smiled, unable to pretend that Y/n wasn’t the most beloved person to both of them. And when they realized they had that in common, that they both dearly loved Y/n, the tension eased.

Maybe this wouldn’t be totally terrible... just maybe.

-

Male reader tag: @stuckoutsideofthebox @sortzz

#Jack Morton #male reader #the order #the order imagine #Jack Morton imagine #Jack Morton x reader #jack morton x male reader #the order x reader #the order x male reader #the knights of saint christopher x male reader #the knights of saint christopher imagine #the knights of saint chrisptoher

[sundove88]

Night at The Museum (Sundove88’s Version) Casting

This is a Birthday present for @thehyperrequiem! Happy B Day!

Dreamer Joe Puddy thinks he's destined for something big but his imaginative ideas never pay off and in desperate need of a job, he accepts to be a security guard at the Natural History Museum. During his watch, Joe makes a startling discovery. Thanks to the unleashing of an Egyptian curse, the museum's characters spring to life after the building closes. Joe must find a way to save the chaotic situation.

Once the night guard at the Museum of Natural History, Joe Puddy is now a successful purveyor of infomercial products. Soon after learning that his museum friends have been shipped to the Smithsonian Institution, Joe receives a distress call from Arthur Morgan, who warns him that four of history's greatest villains have come to life and are planning to take over the Smithsonian first, then the world. Joe joins forces with friends old and new to stop the quartet's nefarious plans.

When the exhibits at New York's Natural History Museum start behaving strangely, Joe Puddy -- now the director of nighttime operations -- must find out the cause. He learns that the Tablet, which magically brings Speedwagon, Arthur Morgan, and the other exhibits to life at night, has started to decay. Joe, along with his son and museum friends, must travel to London's British Museum to learn how to prevent the Tablet's magic from disappearing.

Joe Puddy as Larry Daley (Poptropica)

Robert E. O. Speedwagon as Teddy Roosevelt (JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure)

Elaine Puddy as Rebecca Hutman (Poptropica)

Edgar as Nicky Daley (Poptropica)

Eclair Cookie as Dr. McPhee (Cookie Run)

Ganondorf as Cecil Fredricks (The Legend of Zelda)

Licorice Cookie as Reginald (Cookie Run)

Poison Mushroom Cookie as Gus (Cookie Run)

Arthur Morgan as Jedediah (Red Dead Redemption)

Mixmaster and Scrapper as Themselves/Larry’s Friends (Transformers Animated)

Gohdan as The Moa Head (The Legend of Zelda)

Cal Suresh as Octavius (Balan Wonderworld)

Sana Hudson as Sacajawea (Balan Wonderworld)

King Dedede as Attila The Hun (Kirby)

Yoshi as Rexy (Mario)

Pikachu as Dexter (Pokemon)

Yugi Moto as Ahkmenrah (Yugioh)

Fiibo Fiddlepie as Christopher Columbus (Bugsnax)

Tart as Joan of Arc (Puella Magi Madoka Magica)

Medli as Amelia Earhart (The Legend of Zelda)

Marik Ishtar as Kahmunrah (Yugioh)

The Major as Ivan the Terrible (Hellsing)

Affogato Cookie as Napoleon (Cookie Run)

Muzan Kibutsuji as Al Capone (Demon Slayer)

Escargoon as Brundon (Kirby)

Daroach as General George A. Custer (Kirby)

Alolan Raichu as Able The Space Monkey (Pokemon)

Leon as Abraham Lincoln (Pokemon)

Boom Boom as Oscar The Grouch (Mario)

Colress as Darth Vader (Pokemon)

Ug as Laaa (Luigi’s Mansion 3)

Tea Knight Cookie as Sir Lancelot (Cookie Run)

Tatiana as Tilly (No Straight Roads)

Bowser as Merenkahre (Mario)

Golden Cheese Cookie as Shepseheret (Cookie Run)

Birdo as Trixie (Mario)

Cygnus Hyoga as Garuda (Saint Seiya)

Rayquaza as The Xiangliu (Pokemon)

Zhongli as Hugh Jackman (Genshin Impact)

Qiqi as Alice Eve (Genshin Impact)

Stone Kirby as The Pompeii Bust (Kirby)

Whew, that was a big one! Happy B-Day, @thehyperrequiem! Anyways; here’s your hint for the next casting:

🐼☯️🥋

#crossover casting #parody #night at the museum #natm #poptropica #jjba #jojo’s bizarre adventure #cookie run #the Legend of Zelda #red dead redemption #rdr #tfa #transformers animated #Balan Wonderworld #Kirby #Mario #super mario #Pokemon #yugioh #Bugsnax #puella magi madoka magica #demon slayer #luigi’s mansion 3 #no straight roads #Saint Seiya #Genshin impact #woooo this is one of my biggest castings yet!!

[somersetlevels]

HRH The Countess of Wessex has been appointed Dame Grand Cross of the Order of St John.

The Order of St John, formally known as The Most Venerable Order of the Hospital of Saint John of Jerusalem, is a Royal Order of Chivalry first constituted as such by Royal Charter from Queen Victoria in 1888. Currently Queen Elizabeth II is the Sovereign Head of The Order of St John.

St John is a working Order of Chivalry and a modern organisation delivering first aid, healthcare and support services around the world.

Entry to the Order is by invitation only – and subject to the sanction of HM The Queen – in recognition of achievements towards our mission and values, but also in expectation of future involvement and contribution.

Members are admitted and promoted in five Grades, from Member, Officer, Commander, Knights and Dames, to Bailiff and Dame Grand Cross. Some of our most notable members include Nelson Mandela, Queen Noor of Jordan, Desmond Tutu, Margaret Thatcher, Douglas Fairbanks Jr, Barbara Cartland, Edwina Mountbatten and Christopher Lee. Members of the British Royal family who are members of our Order include the Duke of Gloucester, our Grand Prior, the Duchess of Gloucester, the Princess Royal and the Countess of Wessex. 

Source: St John International

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