#Ireland x Scotland

[walrith]

I love them they’re so silly

[pnch4ko]

as requested by boxyspinxy

[vanessalocke]

UK Sisters

Ok here are some of my headcanons and fanon designs about UK Sisters

Nyo!Scotland

Abigail Kirkland has a straightforward, decisive personality, is an explorer and a pioneer. If she is locked in one place she will become depressed and sad.

Contrary to first impressions, she rarely gets angry. She is much gentler and more altruistic than she appears.

She is good with bow and arrow, has 11/10 eyesight, but usually only shoots people when necessary. Whenever she aimed to shoot at others, she would aim at places that did not pose a danger to life.

Abigail's nickname is Abigail the Virgin, because she made a vow that she would always remain a virgin. She is a close friend of the unicorn herds in the forests of United Kingdom. Unicorns allow her to get close to them because she is a virgin, and her soul is "completely pure".

She is Abigail the Virgin, the guardian of the unicorns in the deep forest.

Nyo!Wales

Among the four sisters, this one has the demeanor of a true lady. (Abigail is too reserved, Clover is too dusty, and Alice is too crazy)

She doesn't often stay at home, but often wanders in the forest.

Her nickname is Dwynwen the Dragon's Bride. The spirits rumored that she was betrothed to a dragon.

Nyo!Northern Ireland

Clover is the third/fourth of the sisters. She also has a twin sister, but that sister does not live in the same house as her. Clover and Abigail are the same height, but Clover often wears high heels, so Clover is the tallest in the family.

Her personality is liberal, optimistic and cheerful. Compared to her first two sisters, she is an extremely modern woman. She is a salaried office worker, extremely lazy to do housework (btw, when the four sisters live together, Abigail is the one who do all the housework) and is quite messy. She actively participates in social activities instead of living in isolation like the rest. Of all four people, Clover has the most typical lifestyle of a modern girl: following idols, shopping, doing beauty treatments, watching romantic movies, and watching dramas. Thanks to her group of female friends at work, she often catches news very quickly.

Her nickname The Optimist is not without reason. She smiles a lot, she can find the humor in almost anything. That's why she always looks happy and active, except for the days when she's drowning in alcohol.

Clover's bad habit is that she often turns to alcohol when she's sad. There was a time when she was an alcoholic. When she gets drunk, she becomes irritable and unbelievably difficult.

She is like the complete opposite of Alice Kirkland, but strangely she is the closest to Alice among the sisters. She is often Alice's love advisor. However, she is also the person who has the most disagreements with Alice.

Nyo!England

Alice's personality is tough, steadfast, and sometimes rigid. But her dry exterior is actually a cover for her crazy love of fighting. Besides that, she's secretly mean, often judgmental, nitpicking, and sarcastic.

Alice's mind is complex and overlapping. Even her sisters sometimes don't understand her. Among her acquaintances, only Francis could guess what she was thinking.

Talking about Alice's crazy love of fighting, it's not without reason that Alice is called the Brave Lion. Even in modern times, Alice often goes to boxing without missing a single lesson. Among the sisters, only Alice uses a rifle. Clover (Nyo! Northern Ireland) uses pistols, while the other two sisters do not use modern weapons. When she was young, Alice fought people across the four oceans, and when she was old, she became an office worker running KPIs. Alice has the eyes of a hawk, so she can aim very well. When she was a robber, Alice's eyes were especially sharp. In modern times, she stares at the computer too much, so her eyes are nearsighted = ))))))))))))

In contrast to Clover, who is lucky, Alice is an unlucky person. If she plays dice, she always gets 1. People often say that Clover took all of Alice's luck.

Main colors include green, blue, and red.

[kirklandsheartsecrets]

First of all: I love your writing!

And i do have a question of course: What do you think about the brothers falling in love for the first time? Being confronted with this human feelings. That confusing teenage body stuff ... What physical age do you think they are?

Have a nice day🌻

teenage boys crushing ? II uk brothers x reader

well first of all thank you :) i hope you love this!

Wales

physical age i see him : 27

the first time he felt the butterflies in his stomach which quickly turned into anxiety, and whenever he would think about his feelings, he hated it. Not that he hated the person, he just hated how anxious he was about it. Overthinking every little detail or word he would say, even being extra cautious around his own siblings. What he feared the most was not being able to control any of his feelings or mostly the way his body reacted to such chemical reactions inside of his body. His physical age had no relation with how he felt however, a little bit of his conscience still thought that if older (physically) it wouldn't make him that flustered.

Northern Ireland

physical age i see him : 26

first time he really had a crush, a real real real one, he started fidgeting...and since then, he never stopped playing with his hands. Fidgety king, starts fidgeting not only his hands but his entire arm or any object surrounding him. Usually if flustered, which happens on extreme and rare occasions, his brothers keep a bunch of fidget toys or actually take him out to get another one so he gets to touch something. England has been complaining about his crush the wrong way as Northern ireland started ripping one of the living room couch cushions whilst watching movies. The discolored patch and hole over the cushion was just hidden by scotland flipping around the cushion itself but it kept reminding the redhead of the main subject of his worries.

England 

physical age i see him : 26

sweaty mess, he feels heated and sweated for anything. As if his potential feelings for that special someone controlled everything he was doing in his daily life. Cooking makes him a sweaty mess, running a marathon gives off the exact same result. The heat appears in his neck for some reason, yet he is doesn't seem to be blushing around his face. Scotland joked about the fact that his crush wouldn't notice anyways as his face would be sunburned before any blush could appear on his face anyways. Much to england's annoyance, the scot was right. He had to suffer the sweat and heatwaves whenever his crush was around. His blood felt like boiling and cooling off every minutes that passed.

Scotland

physical age i see him : 27

He had to embrace it eventually, but was taking himself too seriously at first.

First time he felt the butterflies in his stomach, it took him completely by surprise. He was used to being tough, fearless, and independent, so experiencing this rush of emotions was new and overwhelming for him.

He brushed it off as mere curiosity, but as days turned into weeks, he couldn't ignore the intensity of his feelings. The anxiety bubbled up inside him, making him doubt his every move and word, his body seemed to have a mind of its own. It made him vulnerable and flustered, which he almost never allowed himself to be seen as. His nation identity was not his entire person, but more a part of him that needed to coexist with his physical body and soul, which were in love.

[endlessly-cursed]

A Lifetime With You

A/N: Happy New Year's! 2023 brought me many good and bad things, but the opportunity to welcome Alys @cursedvaultss and be her friend and create this beautiful ship has been the highlight of the second half. What started like a silly little idea of mine has become this fic, which is now my favourite. Happy 2024, Alys! Here's to more creating and fangirling around <3

Summary: The Somerset family celebrates Christmas, and Edward has a great gift for Akelda.

Word Count: 2.6k

Pairing: Akelda the Tragic x Edward the Valiant

Type: Modern AU, holiday fic

Characters Involved: Henriette of Wessex, Frederick of Kent ( @that-scouse-wizard ) Odalric the Red, Denegifu of Scotland, Juliana of York, Cuthfelda of Ireland, Hilda the Smith, Agatha of Kent, Elfreda (Alys)

Characters mentioned: Respective pairings of the siblings

Taglist: @hphmmatthewluther @gaygryffindorgal

Rating: PG

It was early in the morning when the Somerset house became a mess of cooking, moving furniture and barking orders. Akelda, still cuddling in Edward’s arms, hummed and shifted so she’d cling even more to his warm body.

Not letting go, Edward mumbled “My love?”

“Hmmm.”

“We have to get up and help them.”

“Five more minutes.”

Edward smiled, kissing her cheek to see if he could stir her awake. No reaction, still asleep. He kissed her again, making more noise. She chuckled but didn’t budge. He gently poked her and she groaned in complaint. Then, he moved to her collarbone and made a farting sound. She yelped, bolting awake “Hey!”

“Rise and shine, my little blossom.”

She giggled, grabbing a pillow and hitting him playfully with it. He laughed, retaliating easily. Soon, a pillow battle ensued, both chasing one another in Akelda’s rather spacious room, both yelping and laughing, feathers flying around. Seeing that her pillow had faded away, she shrieked and started running away, but he was quicker and picked her up, covering her in kisses as she yelled and giggled, her short platinum hair all over his face. Both falling to her puff, with Edward on top of her, they both relented, giggling and breathing heavily.

“Alright, alright, I’m awake!”

He kissed her nose, making her giggled “Good morning to you too.”

They suddenly became aware of their position and were about to kiss when Juliana opened the door and called out “Bone later, come help now!” And left.

After a minute of silence, they both looked at one another and burst out laughing “I suppose we should face your family.”

“If we must.”

They both got up and, sporting matching pyjamas, went downstairs, where Akelda’s parents were cooking at least three different dishes as Denegifu helped Odalric move furniture and Hilda, as usual, did it on her own. Agatha was decorating alongside Juliana, and Cuthfelda was setting the table. Henriette looked at her daughter and smiled “Ah, you two are awake! Why don’t you help out by picking the wines from the winery? Here’s the list.”

“Alright. At what hour do we get ready?”

“Guests will come at five, so be ready before then!” Frederick responded.

Hand-in-hand, they both went downstairs, to the slightly illuminated winery and Akelda started reading aloud the needed alcohol “Let’s see: mulled wine, Chardonnay, champagne, gin, scotch and a negroni.”

“Good Lord, how much alcohol do they need?” Edward mused.

“Given the length of the family, their partners and families…”

Edward shook his head “I swear, if I have to watch Juliana flirt with that poor married man again…”

“It seems that his wife doesn’t mind.”

“Gross.” He winced.

Akelda giggled and kissed his cheek, and he quickly softened at her touch. As they reached the wine section, without needing a word, Edward easily prompted Akelda up and she picked the oldest wine there, from 1903. She handed him the wine and put it on the bag. They did the same with the rest among laughs and jokes from Edward, and often taking breaks from having Akelda piggyback on him. Of course, Akelda kissed his supposed ‘boo boos’, though she knew it was an excuse for her to kiss him. An excuse she gladly took.

After they were done counting and checking, they both sat for a bit. Akelda sat on his lap, and he stroked her arm, both in comfortable silence, lazily kissing their cheeks.

“Who knew picking wine bottles would be a workout?”

“Don’t you go to the gym often?” She jested.

“Yes, though I don’t have my girlfriend on my back most of the time.”

Akelda sticked out her tongue and he pecked her on the lips. Gazing onto her, he knew that it was time. His mother was coming over after years of made-up excuses to not come, and after much talking, they agreed: he and Akelda had been together since their third year at Hogwarts, he was basically another one of the family and was crazy about Akelda. And Akelda was crazy about him. They’d be graduating soon.

Finally, what seemed like Dene and Juli arguing again broke them from their trance, they both sighed and went back upstairs, where her sisters were yet again arguing.

“It is my dress! You know that purple is my colour!” Juliana shouted.

“You’re not the only one who dresses in purple! Besides, what are you, the inventor of purple?”

“No, I am the owner of it!”

“Girls, please…” Frederick pleaded, but went unheard.

Akelda clapped hard “Time out! Dene, explain what’s going on.”

Dene sighed “Juli has lost sight of her dress and is, of course, blaming me for it, despite knowing that my dress is white, not purple.”

“I tried to check on her wardrobe, but she wouldn’t let me!”

“Why?” Akelda asked.

“Because it’s my room, and thus my property!” Juliana shouted.

“Why don’t Akelda search for it? It’d be neutral property. I can supervise.” Edward proposed.

“What do you think?” Akelda asked.

“Fine by me.” Denegifu conceded.

“But none of you will be there. Go back to your chores.”

Both sisters sighed and went on. Akelda and Edward both went to Dene’s room, and Akelda searched for it while Edward stood watch. No sign of Juliana’s dress. Mostly clothes of white, black and cream, and no purple in sight.

They tried Juli’s room, and it was a mess to say the least. Edward even had to help with it, and searched on the top shelves of her massive wardrobe. There were old phones, sheets, hidden food, small chests of her private stuff, old dirty magazines but no dress. Akelda looked down the bed and found many purple garments, but no dress.

“Godric, even her thongs are purple.” She mumbled.

Edward grimaced “Gee, thank you for the image.”

Akelda giggled and gave him a tender kiss “Is it gone?”

He pretended to think “I don’t know. Care to double check?”

She shook her head but kissed him anyways, this time longer, and he quickly placed his hands on her waist, deepening the kiss.

Of course, Juliana walked in again “Ugh, can you please not make out in my room?” They separated and asked “Did you find it?”

“Nope. You have everything purple here save a dress. If you don’t count last year’s dress.”

They finally tried one last room where the servants washed the dresses, and Akelda spotted a lilac fabric. There it was, all cleaned up and hanging ready “Mystery solved, Watson.”

Edward hugged her from behind and kissed her temple “That’s my girl.”

She gave it to a happy Juliana, making her promise to apologize to Dene, and she relented. Edward and Akelda went back to their room, which had a door that communicated with the other so they’d be spending time together whenever they wanted, courtesy of Odalric for her seventeenth birthday. Both started changing into their evening clothes. Akelda would wear a baby blue dress that sparkled, alongside long star earrings, her grandmother’s ring and a pearl choker that Edward bought her with some of his savings as a three-year anniversary gift.

Edward, on his part, dressed up in his red suit, which Akelda had helped design and which she always remarked how handsome he looked and how much she loved it. Dropping into his pocket the special gift, he put on Akelda’s favourite cologne and straightened his collar and brushed one more time his hair, wanting to look presentable for his love and in-laws. And, of course, his mother. Taking a long breath, he whispered “You got this.” And met Akelda outside.

His eyes widened at the sight before him: she was a winter goddess, with her sparkly blue dress hugging her figure, a V-neck decorated with fur, her hair slicked back and with two fur gloves that reached her elbow, and her equally frosty makeup. “Akelda, you look… perfect.”

She kissed his cheek, leaving a mark of her pink gloss on his cheek that he would not wipe out “And you look very handsome.”

He offered his arm and she accepted, encountering Odalric already dressed in white and gold, and Denegifu, who wore a illusionary dress that looked like she was naked and covered in diamonds, a certain replica of a dress from Marylin Monroe.

Coming downstairs, Hilda and Agatha were already there. Hilda was wearing a suit with a vest, showing off her muscles, and Agatha wore a simple yet cute pink dress. Her mother wore a white dress with a plunged V-neck that was covered by a long boa of fur, and her father wore a black suit with his hair perfectly brushed. Cuthfelda followed, with a royal blue dress and her hair in a complex hairdo. Juliana was yet to come, probably wanting to make an entrance. Akelda, noticing her boyfriend’s sudden queasiness, squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek, easing him. It worked, but his shoulders tense once his mother, Elfreda, made an entrance. She was wearing a cute blue dress and greeted the hosts. When it was time to greet her son, she hugged him warmly and exchanged knowing looks. She turned to Akelda and smiled “You look beautiful, dear. This shall be a night to remember.”

Akelda looked at her, then back to her boyfriend, who shrugged. When the next wave of guests arrived, Juliana made her entrance, wearing a very revealing sparkling purple dress. Akelda whispered that tomorrow she’d wake up with a terrible cold, and Edward chuckled “Her dress is certainly something, but doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

“Don’t let Juli hear that, or this will be a long night.”

He chuckled. He hoped it’d be a long night, but for other reasons.

The dinner party had winded down, and guests had started mingling, some of them already tipsy. With one look at Frederick, who nodded, he was quick to whisk away Akelda away from her mother, who winked him good luck. They went outside, and he of course offered his jacket. They started walking.

“Where are we going, my love?”

“To the greenhouse.”

“Why?”

He smiled “You’ll see.”

When they reached the doors, he covered Akelda’s eyes and started walking her to the place he had set up earlier that night, when Akelda had been once again helping Agatha with her homework. When they reached the destination, he took off his hands and she looked around, gasping. It had been decorated with a beautiful desk, and her comfort food instead of the dinner’s finger food. In front of them was the fountain, that read ‘I love you’ in sparkles. Akelda looked at her boyfriend “You replicated the dinner where you asked me to be your girlfriend?”

He nodded, and she quickly covered his face in kisses. He laughed “Hey, I’m not done! Sit down.”

He pulled the chair for her and served the cheesy gnocchi they tried on a family vacation to Parma, and she quickly dig in. She moaned, savouring the dish “Mmm! How did you replicate the recipe of the restaurant?”

“I may have reached out to the chef and beg him to give it to me for a special occasion…”

She kissed his hand and they talked for a bit about everything, commenting the flowers. Glancing at his clock, he knew that midnight would strike at any minute. He had two minutes to say the words.

He looked at her well. The moonlight on her face, the reflect of the water on her silver hair and the flowers surrounding him were enough to shoot his shot. He took her hands and cleared his throat “Akelda… These past seven years have been challenging: my mother back, the dispute of my father, the Battle of Hogwarts, your illness… it was all rough for me, and I was scared many times, but there is one thing that kept me brave: you. Seeing you smile through the pain, face it all with grace and kindness, and your love is what has made me braver, and everything that I am today is thanks to you.”

“Edward—,”

“Being your boyfriend has been the best thing in my life, and I am more than sure that you’re the woman of my dreams. I…” And then, midnight struck, and the rare flowers he had ordered bloomed, the room shining. He got on one knee and showed the blue sapphire ring Akelda always mused about having someday “Akelda Eunice Somerset, will you spend the rest of your lifetime with me?”

Akelda stood there, tearing up at such beautiful words, and broke into a smile “Edward, yes… YES!!”

Trembling of emotion, he placed the ring on her finger and got up. He kissed her as he grabbed her by her waist and spun her around, both crying of emotion and kissing each other. He whispered “I am the happiest man alive.”

“So am I.” She whispered back.

They kissed again, this time passionately, their emotions and lips doing the talking for them. His hands traced her neckline, then her back, drawing circles on her sides, just as hers tugged at his wild hair before they descended on his neck and chest “I love you so much… I can hardly breathe when I’m around you.”

“Please do. I need a live groom when I walk down the aisle.”

They both laughed and he kissed her again, dipping her as he deepened the kiss, his hand getting a grip on her leg, drawing gentle circles “I don’t want to get out of here.”

“Neither do I. I want to freeze time and stay here forever.”

“Then let’s not go yet. Stay here with me.”

“I plan to.” He whispered before kissing her again, laying her on the floor gently, not ready to be parted from her yet.

When they finally went back to the mansion, Edward was grinning widely and Akelda was shining as brightly as her sapphire engagement ring. All the guests looked back at them and he took her hand triumphantly, showing the ring “She said yes!”

Their parents cheered, and the sisters started squealing and going over to her sister, gazing at her ring as they gushed on how it had gone. Frederick and Edward shook hands, and Henriette and Elfreda hugged him warmly “Welcome to the family. Both of you.”

Akelda embraced her parents and her mother-in-law, smiling widely “I’m happy to have a girl like you on my family.” Elfreda said.

“And I’m happy to be part of your family as well.”

The party finally ended an hour later, and the newly engaged couple walked back to their shared room. He kissed her ring “I can’t wait to be your wife.”

“And I can’t wait to spend a lifetime with you.”

Akelda smiled “I’ve got you something, but I don’t think it’d be as grand as this,” she raised her palm, showing her ring. Edward smiled.

“Whatever it is, I’ll love it.”

Akelda grabbed the small gift and gave it to him. He opened it and admired it. It was a pair of golden cufflinks with red and blue gemstones. The red one had an ‘A’ on it, and the blue one had an ‘E’ which each looked like Akelda and Edward’s handwriting. He beamed “My love… it’s beautiful! I don’t know how to thank you!”

Akelda smiled “How about you cuddle with me tonight? As a starter.”

He smiled, picking her up and both setting into her princess bed together.

They fell asleep, with a hopeful promise of a forever together.

[sillykiu]

SEKAITALIA PART 4 🤯🤯

We are going for the bros this time

Wales - wondershow!!! Definitely!!!!!

Scotland - n25 😔

Northern Ireland - he's quite... something?? Sooo it's like a mix of all except n25 😵‍💫 let's be safe and put mmj

Ireland - mmj..?

[msclaritea]

Elton John - Good Fight Ministries

"Like so many artists who have sold their souls for rock and roll, Elton John has been immersed in Satanism. In fact Bernie Taupin, who has lived with Elton John and written most of his lyrics, stated that Elton John’s “home is laden with trinkets and books relating to Satanism and witchcraft” (US, July 22, 1980, p. 42). Taupin, like Elton John with whom he collaborates, is also into Satanism. Taupin admits that he decorates his walls with “satanic art” and has further declared, “the occult fascinates me” (People, June 23, 1980). Many artists like Elton John and Bernie Taupin recognize the devil’s hand in their success and realize that their fans do not have a clue that much of their inspiration is the result of demonic beings that use them as puppets to deceive the public. Elton John has admitted that he is deceiving his fans, “Its all a big con,” and adds, “But as long as the public laps it up, I’m quite happy to go on giving it to them.” (Rolling Stone, July 15, 1976, p. 30)

Like all those who rebel against a relationship with the Lord, Elton John lives a lifestyle that is doomed and headed toward destruction. John has stated, “In most artists there’s a self destructive streak. Drugs, sex and doomed liaisons were my form of destruction.” Besides his sexually perverse lifestyle Elton John has been known for his temper tantrums and deep depression. Elton John has had multiple sex partners, “I would walk into a club and see someone I hadn’t even met and I would already have them on the conveyor belt,” declared John. “They’d come out with a Vercase shirt and a Cartier watch at the other end.” After all of John’s worldly success he has not found the true happiness that can only be found through a relationship with the Savior Jesus Christ. John has stated, “One thing that depresses me is that there are so many successful people that are [expletive) miserable with it.” Elton John has sought to fill the depressed, Christless void in his heart to no avail with sexual perversion and materialism. “I haven’t met anybody I’d like to settle down with—of either sex,” says John. John’s sexually perverse influence on the masses is taught by example, through songs as well as in interviews. He has stated:

“There’s nothing wrong with going to bed with someone of your own sex. I just think people should be very free with sex…They should draw the line at goats.” (Rolling Stone, October 7, 1976, p. 17)...

[witchthewriter]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Also this is 18+ ... we acting like grown ups.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑼𝒉𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒅

“Destiny is all… but you were never part of the plan.”

・This marriage is a strategic alliance. An act to broker peace between two warring factions.

・Even though Uhtred wants this peace, he isn't thrilled about it.

・At first his mindset was to keep you alive, but the more you got to know each other...the more he was in denial:

“I don’t care about her. I just need to make sure she stays alive… for the alliance. That’s all.”

・What started as a simple sword lesson had turned into him pushing you harder than he intended. Wanting you to see the true strength of opponents.

・He didn't want to sugarcoat what war and battles were. (Not that you had been fantasising about them anyway).

・Uhtred thought his lesson was going well until you finally knocked him to the ground.

・For a split second, he was shocked...stunned and then he stared up at you, breathing heavily. And then he smirked.

・Showing indifference, Uhtred trains you to fight. And adorns you with proper fighting gear, a shield and gets a blacksmith to make your very own sword.

・Even in the early stages of your marriage, Uhtred would subconsciously protect you - no matter where you were or what you were doing. E.g., even at the tavern, he never let anyone get too close (his men were like three other bodyguards)

・You were glad for Finan, he became like a brother to you. Always making things lighter, bringing the humour.

・Because you were constantly on the road with the four men. And Uhtred didn't trust anyone else to take care of you.

・But he would never say that...

・Sihtric barely spoke to you, but he held a lot of respect for you.

・Over time, Sihtric becomes one of your fiercest defenders, in battle and in life. Like a quiet shadow, a forcefield ensuring no harm comes to you.

・Osferth; he's your first friend, real friend, although he was a bit awkward. You become the sister he's always wanted. And he becomes that little brother who wants to follow you everywhere and do everything you're doing...

・The truth of Uhtred's feelings comes out during a heated argument. After nearly getting himself killed...again, you accuse him of putting too much at risk to gain Bebbanburg, that he cares too much about gaining that castle back.

・Shocked, ashamed, embarrassed that you would say that. Uhtred's face heats, and what you say is truth. Well, it was truth, until:

"I have spent my whole life fighting for Bebbanburg! But then you came along, and now I’m fighting for something else. For you. Don’t you see that?”

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖:

“My Heart” uses this one when you have private moments and when he feels vulnerable. I.e., after a battle or during soft, intimate conversations.

“Shieldmaiden” is used in front of his men, showing his pride in you.

“Wife” is both teasing and affectionate, often said when you’re being stubborn.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓��𝒑𝒆𝒔

Shared Vision and Purpose

Closed Off (Uhtred) x The Person They Warm Up To (You)

Brave Warrior (Uhtred) x Self-Assured Damsel (You)

Places His Wife Above Everyone

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Home Is Wherever You Are

The Parents Of The Group

Reluctant Allies to Lovers

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Kingdom Dance by Alan Menken

Scotland by BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra

I Had To Do That by James Newton Howard

𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒏

“I didn’t want this, but now? I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

・Your marriage was a political alliance to strengthen ties between Ireland and the Saxons. Finan, as Uhtred’s right hand, was seen as a valuable connection.

・How else could Finan endure this other than with humour?

・As soon as you met him, he was cracking jokes. Sometimes he was funny, other times you were annoyed - because he was constantly making light of ... everything.

・When you called him out on it, he sighed, "I'm sorry lass. It's ah...the only way I know how to cope sometimes."

“She’s alright, I guess. I mean, for someone who can’t keep up in a fight…” (He says this right before throwing himself in front of an arrow meant for you.)

・Day by day, you were slowly opening up to each other. Learning through talking by the fire, on horseback, walking through the forest.

・Soon Finan began to lean close while talking to you, staring into your eyes, moving a piece of hair behind your ear, brushing past you "accidentally", etc.

・Finan was always looking to see if you were okay. Even in a crowded hall, his gaze would flick to you every few moments, but if he was ever caught, he'd smirk and look away.

・Whenever you feel down, Finan doesn't mind making a fool of himself to make you laugh

・If talking doesn't help, he'd happily slip in the mud during training or let Sihtric carry him around bridal style.

・One night, as a joke, you tied a small braid into his hair, saying it makes him look more "noble." He laughed it off but didn't take it out... he wore it for days afterward.

・His feelings are brought to light during a drunken night around the fire. The others were sharing stories about what they fight for; land, honour, family, ... fun.

・Someone asked Finan and as he was about to make a joke, he glanced at you.

・Your face was illuminated by the light of the flames, and it hit him like a punch to the gut.

"Her."

Silence fell. He looked to you who was wide-eyed, "I'll always fight for you."

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

“Lass” is his go-to—light, teasing, and affectionate.

“Trouble” slips out when you’re bickering or challenging him (which is often).

“Little One” is playful, his everyday teasing, often when he’s trying to make you laugh.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

You Fell First, But He Fell Harder

Constant Banter

The Sarcastic Duo That Can Finish Each Other's Insults

Places His Wife Above Everyone

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Height Difference

Bickering and Banter

Timeless Love

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Say Yes To Heaven by Lana Del Rey

Valerie by the Midnite String Quartet

Happily Ever After by George Fenton

𝑺𝒊𝒉𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒄

“You make me feel like I belong… like I'm worth loving.”

・For Sihtric, he was forced to marry you. The King willed it so. It was a cruel decision. the King wanted to somehow split up Uhtred's group - make it harder for them to be connected.

・It didn't turn out how the Monarch intended...the group just kept you with them.

“I don’t care if she notices me. I’m just here to protect her.” (He says while carrying a pouch full of the random trinkets you’ve given him.)

・You were trained by all of them in battle; how to defend, attack, how to do a shield wall etc.

・Spending time with the men was fun; even if Sihtric was silent most of the time.

・Finan always made you laugh, and Osferth made you feel comfortable no matter what the context was.

・In time, you truly thought of Uhtred as your leader. And you too called him 'Lord.'

・Sihtric constantly lingered in the background. He was always nearby, however, he was never imposing. Just ensuring you were safe.

・You were very different to what everyone thought. There was a softness in you. A heart of gold.

・When you became comfortable around Sihtric, you started to give him things.

・Particularly things you found on your journeys. E.g., many many rocks; smooth river stones, shiny pebbles (anything shiny really), beautiful feathers from birds, flowers that have specific meanings etc.

・And he keeps every single item.

・His pockets are completely full.

・Sihtric is constantly staring, but instantly looks away when he's caught. A small blush dusting his cheeks.

・Another thing is his quiet gestures...he'll fix your armor, puts extra supplies on your horse, sharpens your sword without saying a word.

・The love you hold for each other comes out during the aftermath of a brutal fight.

・You were tending to Sihtric's wounds, hands trembling as you stitched a deep cut on his arm.

・Sihtric couldn't help but watch your face, the concetration, the look of concern.

・You were both silent until you uttered, "You...you could have been killed," your voice was soft but full of emotion.

・Sihtric caught your wrist, his blood-stained fingers entwining with yours.

In a voice so wrapped with truth, Sihtric whispered, "I would die for you. Without hesitation. "

・This marriage wasn't duty anymore. Now...it was love.

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

“Little Blade” pops up during training sessions or when you sass him.

“Mine” is possessive, intense, and usually slips out during high-stakes moments.

“Angel” when he’s overwhelmed with how much he adores you.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Madly In Love (Sihtric) x Ridiculously Oblivious (You)

Sun (You) x Moon (Him)

Always Bringing Them Rocks They Think They Would Like (You) x Keeps The Rocks (Him)

Places His Wife Above Everyone

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Healing and Redemption

Unbreakable Bond

Emotional Intimacy

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Me and Your Mama by Childish Gambino

Sex On Fire by Midnite String Quartet

Fire In The Water by Feist

𝑶𝒔𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒉

“You make me brave. Brave enough to be yours.”

・The marriage was to save your life. Many Saxons wanted you dead, but a marriage to a religious Saxon meant you'd be safe.

・Early on in the marriage Osferth would blush at everything you did. From compliments to teasing, he was constantly red-faced.

・But as your time together grew, he started seeking out those moments.

・Even though he’s usually mild-mannered, if anyone speaks poorly of you, Osferth is the first to step up; sword in hand, voice shaking, but unwilling to step down.

・Osferth would give you thoughtful gifts. Small items like a bunch of wildflowers, a smooth stone, etc. But never admitting they’re from him.

“She’s just being friendly. That’s what this is… right?” (As he turns red after you compliment his sword-fighting.)

・Both of you faced your feelings when he thought he lost you.

・It was after a battle; a close one where you all were separated from each other. You were missing for a few hours, and Osferth had been searching unrelentlessly.

・With each moment his panic had risen. His heart beating so fast he thought he might die.

・But he did find you. You were unconscius but alive.

・Osferth cradled you, tears in his eyes while whispering his feelings:

“Please, don’t go. I… I love you. I should have said it before.”

・You stirred at his words, opening your eyes, smiling lightly.

・Blinking slowly, you hummed. Moving to hold onto his arm.

"I love you too."

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

“Sweetheart” is his everyday term — filled with gentle love.

“Dearest” slips out when he’s overwhelmed with love — often in moments of shyness or soft confessions.

“Braveheart” is used when he’s overwhelmed by your strength, often after emotional or dangerous moments.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

He Confessed His Love When Thinking You Were Unconscious 

Black Cat (You) x Golden Retriever (Osferth)

Menace To Society (You) x Living Moral Compass (Osferth)

Places His Wife Above Everyone

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Trust and Dependence

Intertwined Destinies

Love Conquers All

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush

The Train by James Newton Howard

Let The Light In by Lana Del Rey

𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒕𝒓𝒚𝒈𝒈𝒓

“I would follow you to the ends of the earth—because without you, none of this matters.”

・There was constant tension whenever you were around Sigtryggr.

・He rarely spoke to you in the early days of your marriage.

・Seeing it only as a way for him to gain more power

・And in return, your family would be safe - your village, kingdom, would not be harmed by any Dane.

・You kept your own beliefs and wore your traditional family clothes, even though you did not know when you would see your family again.

“She talks too much… but I don’t want her to stop.”

・Watches you when he thinks you aren’t looking.

・His stoic exterior hides it, but he studies you. Including how you smile, how you move, how you speak.

・Sigtryggr knows what your favourite colour is, what you like to do with your time - all because he notices things. And he wants to know more about you.

・He lets you in; allows you to see glimpses of his vulnerable self.

・He shares stories of his past, things he’s done, things he regrets and waits to see if you’ll turn away. You never do.

・And in a world where he controls everything...he lets you make decisions. E.g., about where to travel, what to eat. He values your opinion.

・When both of your feelings were revealed, it was during a difficult situation.

・You had confronted him after a harsh decision in battle. He had executed someone who defied him.

・It shocked you. But ... you understood. Traitors had to be punished, maybe he went a bit far this time but you understood.

・In the comfort and seclusion of your shared bedroom, you spoke your thoughts.

"Don't you think that was a bit ... brutal? I mean, yes he was a ... traitor but you could have done anything else-"

"I know you think I'm a monster," he replies, his voice low. He wasn't facing you, almost as if he wouldn't. Or couldn't.

"A monster?" You replied, shocked.

"Yes! Do you think I wanted this? To be this man?" His words came out like venom.

You soften, and step closer, "No. No, you aren't a monster. Sigtryggr, I have seen the good in you!

His gaze turns to you, utterly and completely. Gently taking a hold of your wrist, voice low and vulnerable: “I’ve done terrible things… but I would burn the world for you.”

・No more pretending. You had the realisation that...he is completely, undeniably yours.

𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖

“Beloved” used during rare, emotionally charged moments e.g., after a battle, during confessions, or when you’re vulnerable together.

“My Flame” is used when there's passionate, heated arguments or intimate moments.

“Little Chaos” he calls you this when you’re being unpredictable or teasing him.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Soulmates

"I've done terrible things in the past" (Sig) x "All i care about is who you are in the present" (You)

The Hyperactive (You) x The Unheeded Voice of Reason (Sig)

Places His Wife Above Everyone

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

I Can't Exist Without You

Healing and Rebuilding Together

I Go Wherever You Go

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

One More Hour by Tame Impala

Margaret by Lana Del Rey

Dance Me To The End Of Love by Leonard Cohen

[midnightcatharsis]

I created a map of countries based on their relationship with jayvik nation ;)

Evidence of jayvik nation being supported (or not) by other countries

1. Brazil - I feel like this is the country with the strongest official support from netflix, league and the actors, not to mention that Brazilians are our nation's strongest soldiers ;)

2. Poland - support from both official accounts of netflix and league (The second pic is more about Vik since it's a collage of Viktor's pictures but from what I get it was posted right after the release of his in game interactions, the text on the pic is his official line to Jayce 'neither friendship nor love (...) Jayce' that is interpreted as romantic by many and censored in some counties, it also has 2 jayvik frames. It does seem pro-jayvik)

3. Greece - they're basically canon m

4. Italy - League collaborated with cosplayers to make jayvik kiss... and posted the kiss pic on valentine's day

5. Czech Republic

6. England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland and Nordics - nothing explicit, but interpreted as many as support, so I classify them as somehow friendly

7. Russia - they straight up censored it so they had to recognize the romantic undertones XD

8. China - ok idk how it happened that China is in somehow friendly XDD

9. Latam - official support from actors, but from what I got, they also censored it -the translation of the partner used in Latin Spanish dub is purely friendly but then maybe it was just a problem with translating or they could not anticipate the popularity of the ship and chose to play it safe. All things considered, I put them in the somehow friendly category.

10. France - Fortiche is in Paris and several animators openly spoke up about shipping and supporting jayvik. They also went out of they way to make jayvik scenes look and feel romantic despite CL wanting to portray them as brothers. I won't include any screens here cause there's simply too much of them but if you will look for it you'll be pleasantly surprised

11. Canada - they gave us bbno$

12. Spain - I heart it was censored there :/

13. Germany - they gave us CL.... Map with the screens. Canada is not here because it was only added after the suggestion from another user :)

If you have any new information or suggestions that something should be changed, let me know XD P.S I made this mostly using info from this thread on x and this post on tumblr You can find even more info there, such as screens of the animators showing their support.

[smolvenger]

The Little Princess (Henry V x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: As queen of the nation and wife to Henry the Fifth, all rejoice to discover you are pregnant with your first child with your beloved husband. Only to discover, the child is not the long awaited son, but a girl...

Word Count: 5K

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr @jijilaufeyson

@anukulee @herdetectivetheorist (from your request!)

A/N: hehehehe uploading this while listening to "The Man" by Taylor Swift

Warnings: Pregnancy and childbirth in the beginning, which I try to portray as realistically as I can. I changed up what would have happened in history per the request I was given for this. No way is it accurate. But also this is fanfic world and irl Henry V wouldn't have had the luscious curls and ass of Tom Hiddleston. Mentions of sex but no smut. Baby stuff. Some angst, but lots of fluff. Grammar and spelling mistakes that missed my radar.

“Her Majesty, the Queen of England, is with child, Your Highness,” the messenger announced.

Henry had slouched, relaxed on his wooden throne. He then shot up straight. The dominant grace he held cracked for a second. His blue eyes blinked, doing his best not to stagger in his posture.

“She…she is?” he asked, almost incredulously.

The messenger nodded his head.

“Yes. The physician just examined her. He asked me to inform you of these happy tidings. And we shall pray you shall soon be blessed with an heir apparent,” he reported with a smile.

Henry found a small half laugh escape him. He smiled so wide it showed his teeth. He lowered his head, feeling a little dizzy for a second. But he knew how to regain himself quickly after his time as the ruler of England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales.

“Tell the physician we thank him for his swift and happy news,” he replied.

The messenger bowed his head and exited through the wooden doors.

Henry did his best to remain focused throughout the meetings today. But he found his head swam. You- his precious wife, beloved consort-was going to have a child- have his child. He was going to be a father, and you were going to be a mother. His entire world had changed in just a minute and he was supposed to act as normal.

Once they were declared finished, he shot up.

“I would like to visit her Majesty at once,” he declared.

“She is in her chambers, my lord,” one servant confirmed.

He hurried to where you were, the attendants right behind him. The hallways nearly spun as he walked with such a quick bounce. Not caring even if his crown was knocked out of his head.

Meanwhile, you were sitting down. Your stomach was already churning- for you had become more aware of it since this morning. You could only sit and embroider with your ladies in waiting- it was only a matter of time until-

“His majesty, the king,” a male attendant announced at the door.

 You shot up and curtsied as Henry the Fifth of Lancaster bounded in. The other ladies followed suit.

“My lord, and husband,” you replied dutifully, raising back up to face him.

Henry looked flushed, scattered even. He walked up to you and held both of your hands in his.

“My lady, do you confirm that what I heard was true? Are you…are you with child?” he asked softly. As if you were in private and not with a dozen eyes on you.

You nodded, smiling. You leaned in closer, your voice matching his quiet tone.

“Yes. Yes, I am. I know it in my heart, Harry. I’ve had no courses for months. The physician’s tests confirmed my suspicions….” you replied.

 You took his hand and moved it to your stomach. Even if it appeared normal, even if the baby was now small- it seemed even the king himself sensed the presence inside.

“Our first child is inside me now,” you said finally.

He picked you up and spun you around and kissed you. Bursting into laughter, you clutched him. He held your face and kissed you again. You, his wife, his queen, his beloved, now about to be mother to his child. Who cared if these people saw this intimacy from their lord? He was the maker of what was formal, not they. 

“We’ve prayed so long for this, my lord. You know how long we have asked God to bless us someday… and someday has arrived!!” you replied.

He held your face again, his eyes shining.

“I’ve never loved you more than this moment, Y/N,” he confessed. 

“I love you too, Harry,” you responded.

As the pregnancy passed, you dealt with each symptom with as much grace as you could. For you knew once you had a son, all would see you as more than just Henry’s pretty accessory and broodmare. You would be the mother to the next king. All would respect you and revere you far more. That brought you through the mornings of nausea and sudden, intense cravings for certain foods.

What was best was the nighttime before sleep. Henry defied court tradition and insisted he wanted to join you in your chambers. Even though there was the advice that he avoid his marital duties until after the baby arrived, to risk any lustful acts harming the child inside you. To have a misteress to pleasure him as you carried the child was out of the question for Harry of England. He would prefer to fall on his sword instead.

The truth was, you didn’t need to perform any act of lust with your husband to be with him. You both could sit in silence. Read books and play chess or little games. Discuss anything and everything. Even to lay in bed and to hold each other. And how your heart burst with love as you felt his hand on his stomach and heard him talk to the child.  Even placing little kisses on there. When the baby first kicked, you put his hand there to feel. You both grinned and kissed each other. That was as intimate as anything with your bodies entwining. Whispering names and hopes for the little child. Said little prayers for a safe delivery for you. For the baby in your stomach to survive past infancy. To survive to an adult. One that would always know how much their mother and father wanted and loved them.

When the time came for confinement, the time when you would stay only in your private chambers in the ninth month away from the court, including Henry, to help guarantee a safe delivery. Your heart beat fast. Your stomach was so large that you could only waddle rather than walk. Henry only kissed you, gently tracing your face. Promising that only if there was a crisis would he break down the doors and run to your side. 

For days you sat in your rooms. It became stuffy and dark as they closed the curtains, the priests carrying incense throughout and blessing what was going to be the birthing bed. You sat there, sweating, and feeling both the immense fear of your death and the fear of the pain.

 At last, one early morning, your water broke. Hyperventilating and crying, you awoke a lady in waiting to run to get the midwife. You were shaking, pain scorching as the baby was starting to get ready to emerge. You knew what would happen, and yet when it began, you felt thrown into the unknown. You were so frightened, you let out screams as the contractions began. They fetched the birthingThere was the delivery, you cried your way through the pain. 

“Harry- where is Harry? Where is my husband? I’m so frightened! Please! Where is he!?” you cried, your vision blurry with tears.

“This is not the place for your husband to be, your Majesty. The Lords thought it best he be kept away for now. But how proud he would be of you now- you’re doing well- the baby’s coming out fine!” the midwife encouraged you. “Keep pushing, my lady! I see the head!”

You were sweaty and disgusting and at your most primal, far from the elegant and regal woman they all saw in public. Blood and fluids, including some embarrassing ones, had come out during the labor which was all being cleaned up after it was spilled.

The hours dragged on in torture. The midwife yelling encouragements through your hot face full of tears. You felt sick, even faint, as you pushed the child out from between your legs. Sitting on the stool with the midwife over, every lady in waiting dabbed your burning forehead and squeezed your hand through each push.

Then, finally, a cry came out. But not from your voice. A baby’s cry. You let out a shaky breath of relief.

 Alive. The child was alive. As were you.

You caught your breath, panting hard. One lady in waiting grinned at you-

“Well done, Your Majesty!” she praised.

You let out a gasp as the afterbirth crawled out. But it was easy and painless compared to a child and slipped easily into the below pot placed for it. A maid grimaced but took it away. You heard the click of a knife as the cord on the child was cut. Another warm cloth went over the tiny, wrinkled newborn as it wailed and wailed. You felt dizzy, the red curtains of your chambers swimming around. Then you came to.

The heir. The heir apparent. Henry’s heir- Henry’s heir was here. The one purpose for which you were made wife to the king was now fulfilled-

“It’s a girl,” the midwife announced. 

The child was in the midwife’s arms. your eyes noticed the lower half of the baby’s body. She was correct. 

For a second, your heart stopped. The world stopped. 

There was a slight silence in the room. It wasn’t like the eruptious joy that would have followed had it been the opposite.

The baby still cried heartily. They swaddled her- not the long-awaited him, her. For that was what the baby that was your constant companion inside you for months was. Not the long-awaited male heir for the Lancaster line. No- a daughter. And what is a daughter, but a disappointment?

In those seconds, your mind reeled. Your belly was empty now for the first time in over a year. You had disappointed the nation- there would be no heir to the Lancaster throne. Not yet. You had let down the court. Mothering a son brought special respect and privilege.

And, most of all, worst of all, you let down Henry. The one person you loved most of all. And that hurt the worst. 

The baby wailed. A high, piercing, harsh cry. Ladies in waiting gathered around and fussed. The midwife cleared out the mucus and fluids covering the newborn. Still, the crying rang through the room like harsh bells.

You wondered briefly if it would have been better if you didn’t recover and died from this than face the humiliation.

Wrapping some swaddling over the crying newborn, they handed her over to you.

“Here, hold her, your majesty. She seems a healthy, beautiful little girl,” the midwife announced.

The tiny, wrinkled babe at first didn’t seem beautiful. 

Then the bundle was placed in your arms and the baby stopped crying at once.

You looked down at her.

Something inside you broke.

She was….small. So small for your great pain. Her tiny face, the tiniest little hands, and hte tiniest head. She was fragile. Could you remember when you were brought to court to marry the king? You were just as fragile, as naive, as alone without protection- who knows what would have happened if Henry had been so gentle and patient with you, if you hadn’t grown to fall in love with him and he with you.

She nestled to you, her crying ceasing. Clinging to you. She didn’t know so many things…but she knew you were her mother.

And she trusted you to protect her. 

A new feeling burst on you. You were not afraid of facing humiliation from the men of court…you were afraid of failing her. She reached a hand and began to coo. Making tiny little noises like that of a mouse. You held up your hand and she held onto your finger- settling close to you. 

“Hello, my dear…hello…” you murmured. The pain seemed even more distant. 

Tears came down you again and you felt yourself smile. You loved her. This tiny, beautiful, and unwanted girl.

One lady in waiting reached for you and you barked at them.

“Get away from her! Don’t touch her!” you yelled out, the tears running down your face, your breasts heavy with milk that was not going to be used, and the hotness in your body flushing to anger. You held the bundle closer to yourself.

You understood the instincts of bears, how they would rip men into pieces if they dared tread near the den of their cubs. If anyone- anyone- haughty courtiers that were so stuck in their ways that they had nothing better to do with their time other than harm an innocent child- incapable of fighting, of proper speech, of defending herself- you would have murdered them. And you would have enjoyed it.

She cried only a little, startled by your voice. You rocked her and shushed her, kissing her forehead. 

“Hello, hello- I’m your mother, don’t be frightened, my dear, I’ve waited a while to meet you, shhhh. Mother is here, you’ll be safe. I’m sorry I surprised you, shhh,” you whispered.

The midwife approached you cautiously.

“Your majesty…the baby must be cleaned further. Do not worry- she will be safe…” she assured you. And your good sense one- for the midwife had delivered hundreds of babes and you knew the girl was in good hands.

You looked down again at your baby, still somewhat patched and bloody. For that, you handed her over.

Henry was tending to his stallion in the stables. The white one was his personal favorite. He often enjoyed being the one to hand the horse hay and feel it nibble form his hand. His attendants just beside him to see to anything, wanting to do anything to distract their lord and sovereign as he anxiously awaited news of his beloved wife.

 A lady in waiting arrived inside and their heads turned like deer. She took a few steps forward and curtsied low. Henry gestured for her to rise.

“How is the queen? It was early morn when the birthing began. Tell me- Does she live?” he asked anxiously.

“Her majesty lives. She is delivered of a…a princess,” reported the lady.

There was a slight silence. A greyness washed over the faces of the lords. Frowns remained on their faces, but their eyes were kept on Henry.

Henry took a moment. He was still, his face unreadable. He then replied.

“The babe is fine?” 

“Yes, the babe is fine, born healthy,” she answered.

He broke into a relieved half laugh and smile.

“May- may I see my them?” he asked.

The lady nodded. “Yes, the midwife said you may.”

Henry gave the lady a nod.

“We most heartily accept these joyous tidings, sweet lady. I shall see her anon,” he said.

At once, he broke into a jaunty walk. He burst from the stables, and up the stone steps, through the hallways into his wife’s chambers. He was far faster than some of the stuffier, older lords could keep up with They had a hand on their heads for their hats and puffed as their legs attempted to keep up with their lord.

 Confinement seemed like his sweet angel was torn from him to another world and not another part of the castle. But he bounced up the steps. The sweet temptation to burst through those doors for weeks was finally relieved. 

He at once raised a knuckle and knocked on the doors. There were feminine gasps and murmurs on the other side. 

And another sound, something light, a little voice- that of a baby. And his heart picked up.

There were no servants or lords, so he announced.

“It is his majesty, the king of England.”

One lady opened and they all bowed low. Even the few ladies in the corner trying to get rid of sheets full of blood discreetly. But Henry was a man who had seen battles and once killed the famed Hotspur himself- what was more blood to him?

You laid in your bed, holding the little babe. Your heart racing hard, fighting not to break and cry and yet you found yourself smiling at him. His curls swept back from the wind of his rush and his blue eyes wide as he saw you. 

He came forward and knelt next to the bed in a few short strides. He took your hand in his and kissed it.

“How is my lady?” he asked.

“I’m…I’m fine,” you replied in a choking voice. Glad to see him again, glad you were alive to experience all this.

You looked down at the swaddled child.

“Here is…here is your daughter, my lord…” you presented.

You waited for the stormy look on his face, hoping your smile would relieve it.  But Henry the Fifth merely loosened his shoulders. His jaw dropped then broke into a smile as he saw her.

“May I hold her?” he asked.

You brought her into his arms. She seemed ot know her father, for she settled easily. He rocked her, and kissed her forehead. Happiness beaming everywhere on his face. 

“Mary…that is what we agreed, my lady, if it was a girl…would you still like that to be her name?” he said sofly.

You nodded.

He looked around the crowd. The lord and attendants finally arrived inside, staring with wide eyes.

“Today is a special day- for we celebrate the birth of the Princess Mary. Named in memory of my mother. And we are all going to celebrate. I would like there to be a joust and a feast as well when she is christened, all for the safe arrival of Her Highness, the Princess of Wales- And please note, I want a portrait of the joust commissioned-”

Henry looked back at you sitting up on the bed.

“I want my queen in the center, on a seat- beautiful as she is and shining bright, as a testament of my love for her…”

Folding your hands, you smiled back up at him. Exhaustion and love warming your insides. Joy seeping through to where you thought you would float.

“And I ask for a second portrait be of all of us- for we are now the royal family,” Henry finished.

The courtiers nodded solemnly with plenty of “yes, my lord” repeating from their lips. For none would dare cross the king.

They departed, leaving you both alone for the first time in weeks. Mary wiggled a little in her father’s arms. He sat on the bed and smiled at you. You laid a hand on his arm.

“Harry, all of this fuss! Should you save such grand celebrations for when we have a son?” you asked.

“No, sweetling. Our child is born alive and healthy- and with her in my arms, I’m too overjoyed, that her sex does not matter right now,” he responded.

“But…your heir!” you cried.

He smiled and his eyes lowered to his baby.

“ I have three brothers. There’s more than enough heirs. There’s no need to panic…”

He leaned close.

“And with my lovely wife naked in my bed again… once she is better…how can I resist a night where we can create another beautiful child? Wouldn’t our little Mary be happy having a brother to play with and tease and scold over?”

You playfully shook your head with laughter and swatted his arm lightly.

“My lord, you are unappeasable!” you teased.

“And I have missed you too, my lady,” he replied.

Both of you kissed as May began to cry again.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

How incredible a nursery they had built for her. The rockers- two people set up to stay awake all night to rock the baby to sleep- curtsied low. It seemed that despite the disappointment, they were charmed with the sweet little baby. Her little noises that cackled about. Her adorable squeaks that made won people over. How you loved to call her “my little mouse!” when you visited to hold and rock her. For Mary would always nestle and wish to be held. She had no thoughts of being a great Princess of the Sacred Isle yet. She was an infant who only wanted to be cared for and loved.

The joust came and went. The artists got right to work for their commissions. The christening was a holiday throughout the nation. Bells rang as the Bishop blessed Mary in the church with all the nation watching. 

At the feast afterward, many gathered around to glimpse at their new princess, cloaks and hats and long skirts crowding around the official cradle made for state events. It was decorated with the arms of the Lancaster house. Plush red fabrics draped the inside- the colors considered traditional for her father. It measured seven and a half feet long and two and a half feet wide. The guests invited could look at the infant from a safe distance. You couldn’t help but awe at the creation-  all for one tiny baby inside! How small she looked compared to the great size of the thing! They must have thought her a giant child, not a human one!

There was no better, no more doting father than Henry the Fifth. It seemed that the only concern about a male heir came from his courtiers. And their protests and reminders fell deaf on his majesty’s ears. Even in public events where she was placed in the state cradle, Henry would stay to stand guard near it. He was not too much of a man that he was beneath wishing to hold her. He would bend up and use one arm to hold her crimson swaddling. 

“I am the Father of the Nation. Of my subjects, as much as she.” he would declare, one hand up to gently touch his little daughter.

How often you stayed in that nursery, amazed at her. The nursemaids tell you everything about what a baby did and why they did it. For even if she was not yours to raise, your curiosity would get to you- and how much every day she would grow and change! Just a month later and she was big enough you wondered how she got out of you!

One night later at dinner, Henry wished to have her cradle nearby so you could eat with her. Little Mary let out a hearty cry out of nowhere.

You jumped- for it was loud and sharp. She did not wail often in her father’s presence.  But Henry merely tilted his head.

“Now, what is the matter, lambkin?” he asked the baby.

She continued to cry. He picked her up. A hand over her head and her bum, placing her on his arm.

“What troubles you so, Fair little chuck-hm? Would you like a kiss from your father? Would it cheer you?”

He gave her a kiss on her warm cheek. She calmed down a little. Then she began to cry again. Your husband shot up his eyebrows in confusion. But you listened carefully to the quality of the sound of her wailing- this one was low-pitched, repeating its rhythms.

“My lord, the nurses tell me that kind of cry means she is hungry.”

With a smile on your face, you asked a servant to send for the wet nurse. Henry only widened his eyes in awe. 

“Well, my lady, tell me…what have you learned from them about the crying of babes?” he asked in curiosity. 

One day- after certain parliament sessions, you returned to the nursery. You heard her crying again- the sort she did when fussing. For you only wished to…to be with her, see her- for her childhood to be as good a one as you could afford for her.

Once inside, you saw one maid trying to ring her rattle. The other maid held her up to see it. But it was doing no good for little Mary who kept crying.

You walked inside and the little girl paused. She began to smile and kick her feet, her crying ceasing. She was even reaching two chubby arms towards you. 

How could you have hated that she wasn’t a son when she was born? What were you even thinking with such joy and such love this little girl had for you?

Reaching over, you brought her up.

“Hello, my lovely girl, how are you?” you asked. You brought her up to yourself.

 Smelling how well they bathed her. How she was indeed a sweet girl who only wished to be held and loved! You kissed her forehead.

The maids smiled.

“She does that when she misses you,” one reported.

But you never forgot the day you heard her laugh for the first time. It was the fourth month after the birth. Returning inside after strolling the gardens with the ladies, his majesty not being present. You assumed he was discussing something with the Prussian ambassador or shooting his arrows. You passed by the hallway with the nursery. You heard a small sound. Like the tinkling of bells-

It was Mary- her first laugh- you felt a gasp. And another followed- a masculine one right after- a certain laugh you knew like your hand.

Could it be… was it…?

Curiosity overcame you and you opened the door, Henry was sitting on the floor, holding her up above him and she was laughing, clapping her chubby hands. He laughed too.

You burst with love and put a hand over your mouth. The servants watching were flabbergasted. Seeing the sovereign himself playing with her, lifting her in the air and moving her about as she wriggled. You walked in and Henry still held her and leaned up.

“I believe you are enjoying yourself, my lord?” you asked.

“Mary loves it when her father makes her fly like a bird, I discovered,” he said. “You should have seen her with the ambassador's son. So used is she to men with beards, that when the shaven youth stepped forward, she stared at him like a wonder of the world!” he recalled. “Oh, and the little dear is rolling over. She can roll over to one side, but cannot roll back. And when she does, she can only cry in frustration!” he reported excitedly.

You grinned and kissed his cheek. Both of you admiring the new gown on the princess. When there was money left over in the budget, Henry would find ways to spoil her with toys and dresses. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Months passed. You and Henry waited until the time was right, when you were ready for his bed, for acts that would put his seed inside you... But…you were having trouble conceiving again.

You took advice from the physician, recalling every embarrassing martial act out loud to the old man. You devoured certain herbs prescribed to you like a rabbit. Even mixing them into drinks when you could.

Yet…your courses returned as normal.

But you began to wonder…perhaps Mary was the only child you would have. And part of you mourned. Wishing for the large, happy family you both whispered to each other at night early on in your marriage. Secretly envious of women who boasted of their broods so easily conceived. 

One evening, you sat by the fire with your husband and child after dinner. Mary was asleep in the cradle in your private room. You rocked it gently, hoping she would stay asleep when the servants would come to fetch her to her nursery. Already she was big and big, more fussy from the teeth she grew.

Henry walked by you and placed an arm around you.

“What ails you, darling?” he asked.

You looked up at him.

“I am just worried, Harry… if…what if…what if she is the only one I will have…” you mourned.

 Henry looked into it and said. “I think it would be wise if Mary was made my heir.”

You blinked, your jaw dropped.

“What- but husband-I have not a problem with it, but others will! But the parliament, the lords…they will refuse. They will hate her…even hurt her!” you replied.

He remained still, resolute. But his voice was soft. 

“I am their king. My word is law and final. The lords, no matter what they think, must follow as I say…and if she is the one of my line, she is the one of my line…Mary will be queen. A good queen. A queen who will lead England to prosperity.”

The fire cracked more. Both of you looked at the peaceful, sleeping baby. So lovingly tucked into her soft nightdress and snuggled into blankets.

“She can barely talk yet.”

He smiled.

“She has your blood. And if that is the case, then there is no one I trust more than her…”

There was a grand announcement. Shock ran like a storm through the country. Though yes, the lords all complained and bemoaned a female heir, Henry made sure the ceremony was grand. It didn’t matter if they liked it or not, England had its heir. 

There was a grand ceremony. The stony throne room decorated with grand emblems. A crowd gathered as you and Henry dressed in red velvets. Though she was getting a little heavier, you still held her high. Your face raised as every icon of another Mary with Her Child, and just as dignified, perhaps as important.

“I now announce her grace, The Princess Mary of Wales, is the heir to the throne. She shall succeed me- and all of you must honor my wife, Her Majesty, as the mother to your next ruler and honor her highness as the queen to follow,” Henry announced, his beard neatly trimmed and his golden crown beaming on his head.

“Her majesty-Princess Mary. And one day, Queen Mary of England. Long live the queen!” he declared.

“Long live the queen.” the crowd repeated.

It was the day the artist said he would show the works he painted. The small, dark-haired, bearded man went up to the first one, covered in a cloth. He pulled it off with a flourish as all took it in.

The first in the joust showed you sitting on your throne as Henry rode his white stallion to defeat his opponent. You seemed to be glowing. In bright colors that shone when light caught it. Placed in the center where all would see, decorated and beautiful.

The artist went to a second painting covered in a cloth. He removed it.

There stood the three of you standing in the church in bright,  The child in your arms and Henry by your side. The three of you appeared just as grand, even Immortal. 

You had not failed your husband. You had not failed the nation. You had provided an heir after all. And all would be well.

You looked over little Mary, leaning close to press a kiss to her temple and whisper to her.

“Long may you reign, my little dove.”

[walrith]

Nasty dog :p

[the-gimmick-archive]

Pinned post. (Will update.)

This is a shared blog made to archive important things that happen in the gimmickverse.

The current mods are: @justazebra (admin), @i-dont-know-how-to-name-this.

If we make a mistake, please tell us.

Please @ us if you see an important event happen, especially wars.

Send us an ask if you want to know about a certain event, we’ll do our best to find it.

If you have the link to something important that we didn't archive yet (especially if it happened before this blog started existing), please send it to us.

Shadowban Survival Guide

(scroll down on the guide)

List of arcs and events:

The color war:

Earliest point in the arc we could find. The purple revolution begins. Green joins the revolution.

That time when figuratively everyone got possessed:

Earliest point in the arc we could find.

The UwU revolution:

Earliest point in the arc we could find.

Sealand dying and being revived:

Death. Revival. Death again, but this time they become death's assistant.

IKEA-Party City War:

Earliest point in the arc.

Goose god vs. Waste management war:

Earliest point. Waste management also declaring war. Goose god and waste management making an alliance to stop @/france-unofficial from attacking bean and making Bean sad.

New Zealand vs. Australia war:

Earliest point. New Zealand changing targets to England instead.

Bean getting kidnapped:

Earliest point.

Bean getting kidnapped again (by gimmick nose thief this time.):

Earliest point. Waste management selling their soul so they can see bean again. Molossia scratching and paralyzing Sealand. Sealand getting their souls stolen by gimmick nose thief.

List of gimmick blogs (copied from @/gimmick-simp, @/antarcitica-official, and @/celestial-same-picverse, and then added some missing ones):

@totally-official-gmail @totally-amazon @pizza-hut-official @spotify-official @truly-jcjenson

@bigbasket-notreally @discorddotcum-official @homedepot @im-pandora-i-promise @femboy-totally-bing

@kahoot-official @100percent-shell-oil @assistant-to-the-shell @truly-bath-and-body-works @definitely-tiktok-trust

@unofficially-joann-fabric @its-sanrio-official @the-real-gmail @apple-unofficial @jack-in-the-box-official

@official-arbys @officialtinder @realgoogleslides @reallytimhortons @officially-ikea

@claires-unofficial @barnes-and-noble-official @realgoogleclassroom @real-sephora @pizza-hut-unofficial

@google-news-official @totally-official-gmail @bingle-official @basically-bumble @def-bjs-guys

@official-opera-gx @official-firefox-nightly @the-mcdonalds @realgoogledocs @mcdonalds-official

@totally-bing @operagxreal @official-fedex @firehouse-subs-fr @k-f-c-official

@the-real-google @totally-ikea @taco-bell-unofficial @spotify-kids-real @the-real-victorias-secret

@subway-official @big-mayo-official @/realsafari @incognito-mode-official @burgerking-official

@definitely-wikipedia @the-one-and-only-pornhub @the-one-and-only-duckduckgo @its-target-official @yes-im-youtube-kids

@walmart-the-official @duothelingo @firefox-official @femboy-hooters-real @fedex-official

@yamaha-official @youtubefr @actually-x @reality-official

@femboy-google-news-official @50percent-shell-oil @yahooo-official @totally-airbus @the-official-spirit-airlines

@100percent-chipotle @unofficialvine

@totally-brazil @totally-italy @very-real-australia @the-province-of-nova-scotia-real @official-new-zealand

@russia-totallyofficial @quebec-official @india-official @india-reblogs @telangana-official

@denmark-official @pakistan-official @definitely-brasil @non-tyrannical-usa @antarcitica-official

@spain-unofficial @definitely-canada @france-unofficial @the-state-of-georgia-official @official-denmark

@denmark-forreal @official-ireland @texas-real @massachusetts-official @new-york-for-real

@definitelytherepublicofireland @true-blue-straya @totally-germany @official-the-united-states @totally-france

@forever-scotland @germany-official @sovereign-state-of-alaska @guatemala-official @republic-of-molossia

@actually-alberta @the-principality-of-sealand @totally-oregon @yugoslavia-official

@the-chill-planet-uranus @the-serene-moon-luna @earth-fan @deimos-moon-of-terror @officially-capricorn

@the-radiant-sun @the-ringed-planet-saturn @the-red-planet-mars @the-real-uranus @celestial-same-picverse

@officially-taurus @the-lovely-planet-earth @posts-with-10000-notes-in-spirit @/i-hesitantly-say-ok

@i-say-not-ok @i-say-ok @the-us-navy-offical

@woo-in-different-lengths @official-garlic-bread @shakespeare-official-reblogs @gimmick-thief @hold-my-dr-pepper

@oscar-wilde-official-account @the-real-illinois @i-say-grape @the-kingdom-of-norway @denmarklandia-official

@i-say-bean @sweden-official @antarcitica-official @gimmick-nose-thief @gimmick-thief-thief

@tamil-nadu-official @tamilnadu-official @anti-totally-bing @antiquitian-empire @rocks-anon

@tagswoman @actual-aspec-military @pansexual-spaceforce @the-aplatonic-cavalry @the-pointing-anon

@bi-poly-space-station @bisexual-airforce @aro-sp-ace-force @nonbinary-coastguard @demi-demolitions

@queer-military-authorities @queer-military-treasury @the-missiles-guy @the-official-goose-god @the-official-gemini

@actual-transgender-navy @genderfluid-marine-corp @real-australian-army @real-hottopic

@same-pic-of-venus-everyday @same-pic-of-the-earth-everyday @same-pic-of-the-moon-everyday @same-pic-of-mars-everyday @same-pic-of-jupiter-everyday

@same-pic-of-saturn-everyday @the-real-uranus @same-pic-of-neptune-everyday @steve-not-anon @metal-frisbee

@earth-fan @not-10-salmon-in-a-png @same-pic-of-halleys-comet @same-pic-of-callisto-everyday @same-pic-of-eris-everyday @same-pic-of-kepler-186f-everyday

@same-pic-of-haumea-everyday @same-image-of-7-iris @book-nonsie-not-anon @celestial-same-picverse @same-pic-of-pluto-everyday

@same-pic-of-juno-everyday @same-pic-of-polaris-everyday @tomblrmartian @same-pic-of-a-blackhole-everyday @same-pic-of-the-stars-everyday

@alpha-centauri-everyday @same-cosmic-cliffs-pic-every-day @rose-nebula-always @same-pic-of-makemake-everyday @same-picture-of-europa

@same-pic-of-the-lagoon-nebula @star-that-eats-the-sun @jupiter-fan

@same-pic-of-triton-everyday @pq-anon @same-pic-of-ceres-everyday @same-pic-of-wolftopia-everyday

@same-pic-of-mars-everyday @same-pic-of-tres2b-everyday @samepicofthewowsignaleveryday @same-pic-of-the-blue-moon @same-image-of-hr8799e-every-day

@samepictureofsednadaily @moon-of-fear-phobos @totally-neptune-official @corvus-the-constellation @official-nissan

@hollowknight-reference @microsoft-edge-official @arethosewordsinthebible @the-gimmick-doctor @i-say-doot-doot

@i-say-ok @discord-marriage-bot-real @literally-leo @literally-luxembourg

@/same-pic-of-a-dictionary-daily @/same-pic-of-mercury-everyday @/hateful-daystar @//court-artist-under-the-stars @/samepicofproximacentaurieveryday @/same-pic-of-the-sun-everyday @/same-pic-of-the-blood-moon @/same-pic-of-uranus-everyday @/same-pic-of-venus-every-day @/same-pic-of-trans-jupiter @/ton-618-real @/same-pic-of-alpha-centaur-24-7 @/same-pic-of-andromeda-everyday @/same-pic-of-a-bagel-everyday @/same-pic-of-titan-every-day

@putting-iris-in-places @communist-usa-real

(Sorry if you didn't want to get tagged.)

[unhetalia]

any headcanons for alfreds relationships and/or friendships and/or toleranceships with other nations?

Honestly I tend to have a few different versions of one relationship depending on my mood, and for every Alfred ship I like (England, Russia, Germany), the other two relationships have to change with it.

For England, it's the most complicated, because I either have him and Alfred as endgame, or I frame their relationship as father/son, which a lot of people are understandably confused about.

For me, it's pretty simple: these two will always be important to each other in a way that is completely unique from their relationship to anyone else. Don't want to spend too long on them, but their father/son relationship tends to be close, and you can't avoid one if you want to be around the other.

In their endgame universe, things are fraught for a long while, and this tends to be the slowest burn out of all the 'ships. However, Arthur does not let Al out of his sight easily, even if their relationship isn't the most friendly. This relationship basically needs a post of its own, but "complicated yet as always, filled with love" might have to sum it up.

Ivan and Alfred start working together after the Cuban Missile Crisis, when Alfred is forced out of hiding civilian life in order to prevent all-out nuclear war between their countries. They hate each other, at first — Ivan thinks Alfred is selfish for abandoning his government despite disagreeing with them, Alfred thinks Ivan is a coward for not leaving, but eventually they grow to really understand each other. They're together by 1980, and in public AU, Ivan really helps Al when he's ostracised by his people.

If they're not endgame, Ivan is in love with Alfred and he either carries on a charade of hating him in order to be in his space and to make it so Alfred's at least THINKING of him, or they're just... colleagues. Which is sad.

I always have Kiku as being quietly in love with Al, but unwilling to do anything about it. Sometimes, their friendship is unimpacted, and they're close, but sometimes I like to have Al more lonely, and Kiku's feelings will lead to him distancing himself from Alfred. When they're close, Alfred tends to have a bigger group of friends - Taiwan, nyo Philippines, South Korea, nyo India - but when they're not, it usually means I'm craving for a loneloer Alfred. I guess this means his friendship with Kiku leads to his friendship with these others, somehow.

Belarus is (alongside Tony), Alfred's best friend. Alfred isn't scared of Belarus, and Belarus is surprisingly a really good listener - she doesn't get impatient when Alfred talks about x topic for too long, and will even ask (practical) questions. They're not touchy feely, but the two of them accept the other as they are, and both of them need that.

Matthew is another one that needs his own post — I default to a Matthew that both resents his brother yet loves him to the point of obsession. Alfred is oblivious, and always forgives Matthew when he lashes out.

Mexico is their older sister who blatantly favours Alfred (further adding to Matthew's issues). She and Alfred have similar life trajectories - violent revolution and rejection of the traditional "Nation works for government." Matthew's the complete opposite on both fronts, so she just finds it hard to connect with him. Mexico is incredibly independent and can go years without seeing either of her siblings, so she's not in the picture very often, and is not really the type you would talk to about your problems or feelings.

France and Alfred are very close, and I've spoken about that a few times, so I won't go on (/tagged/re: face). There's a lot of mutual respect there.

Scotland adores Alfred, and Alfred adores him right back, and he treats Al completely different to Arthur's other colonies. Northern Ireland and nyo Ireland are similarly close with Alfred, and it's only Wales who does't actually care for Alfred at all and doesn't approve of him.

China is fond of Alfred but mostly in a distant way - he's mostly concerned with his siblings and himself.

Cuba loathes Alfred because he believes if Al had done his job, his people wouldn't have been impacted the way they were. Most people who dislike Alfred are in the same boat. These include, surprisingly, Spain and Portugal, who both see Alfred as irresponsible and "not doing his duty right."

Similarly, there's a subsection of England's colonies/ex colonies who resent Al. Anguilla, Barbados, Bermuda, Gibraltar, Falkland Islands. (Canada).

If you have any characters you want to ask about in particular, please do!

[vanessalocke]

[UK Brothers]

Some notes:

- Arthur (England) x Marianne (Nyo!France)

- Connor (Northern Ireland) x Agathe (Monaco). Imagine a guy who talks a lot, gossips, doesn't like trouble, just likes to settle down, is indecisive, paired with a classy girl, calm outside, inside always thinking all kinds of evil plans.

Agathe is a girl boss, she looks small outside, but when she comes home, two rows of subordinates have to bow to her.

Like, the female boss of the gang, next to her is a red-haired bodyguard who likes to settle down, doesn't like getting into trouble (but he's good at shooting)

- Dylan (Wales) x Ivy (His Dragon)

Ivy is the dragon that sleeps on Dylan's shoulder. I have headcanon that the dragon can turn into a girl, she is Ivy. No one can see Ivy but Dylan, so Dylan is often seen as paranoid.

- About Scotland, I set up Scot as Asexual, single for life, whether Allistor (male ver) or Abigail (fem ver).

The reason is because Scot's mascot is unicorn, and unicorn is only close to virgins, who live a chaste life. So when I write fanfic, I will set Allistor simple-minded, not interested in love, inside with Peter Pan syndrome (Peter Pan is also a book from Scotland) but does not show that syndrome outside. It was because of his straight, unblemished mind that the unicorn became close to him. As for Abigail (Nyo!Scotland), I think she will be a virgin for life, regardless of marriage, and unicorns will often come and sleep in Abigail's lap without any defense 😉

The reason why the 4 brothers’ outfit is different: is due to the aspect of each person's job. Allistor is a mechanic, Dylan is a forest ranger (imagine that innocent face fighting with forest destroyers), Connor is an office worker, Arthur is an IT, but because Marianne takes care of him, his fashion is the best of the UK Brothers.

[kirklandsheartsecrets]

They do kinda dressed like newt tho, so much so that if they were to ever cosplay him, their s/o is not gonna think twice and just assume they're headed to work. I can imagine their disappointment up until they put on the hufflepuff scarf for her to finally get it.

when the cosplay is too casual || uk brothers x reader

wales

"Really? Tha' not nice of you now—" Wales said as a short huff left his mouth as he kept trying to close his jacket. He acts bothered and he actually is. The latter cares about how people and specifically his s/o sees him, enough to overthink how he dresses up.

england

"Well obviously, I’m British but wasn’t that really obvious ? Do I need to add something more—"

Thought his cosplay was so bad that you couldn’t really make a difference. (Try to understand it). His arms will just slap along his body as he stares into the mirror then back to you as he has no idea how to change it.

scotland

man pointed to his hair silently, try to mess it up slightly.

"wales said i didn’t nee’ a wig." Well great Alistair but that’s not the issue here.

ended up buying a wig at the convention that looked really awful, just for your sake.

Northern Ireland

"Oh great now."

offended on a comical way. But are you better than him? Slightly insecure about it so he ends up wearing obvious accessories and keeps talking about the costume details and differences with his usual wardrobe choices.

ireland

"you’re lying are you? Well— let me make this clear— you just don’t know what you’re talking about.."

he can go to work with the scarf for sure, but what caught your attention later was the sign with every little thing about the character he started displaying outside as he walked to the said convention.

[apocalypseornaw]

Don't Blame Me (Pt 3/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Dean confronts Crowley who recounts exactly what did happen to you, sparing no details to Dean's horror. You look for a way to ward yourself from Dean finding you.

Dean was half in shock when you blinked out. You were alive? When he looked at Crowley he knew the anger he felt showed in his eyes because the demon took a step back even before Dean grabbed him, slamming him back into a wall. "BRING HER BACK"

Crowley shook his head slowly "I didn't send her a way and I try not to summon her. She gets upset, it causes a mess. She killed ten demons the first time I summoned her and let's just say I like keeping her as calm as possible"

Dean shook his head before pulling the demon blade up to hold the point against Crowleys neck "Last time I saw her she was getting on a plane. What the fuck did you do to her?" Crowley laughed sharply "What did I do? Squirrel you should really ask what did you do?"

Dean's grip loosened at Crowleys words "What do you mean what Dean did?" Sam asked as Crowley untangled himself from Dean's grasp. Crowleys eyes were on Dean when he said "She made a deal. I didn't go after her soul. It was already in hell"

Dean shook his head "She wouldn't. Y/N knows the risks" Crowley shrugged "and yet she did for you" "for me?" Dean asked and Crowley sighed "This is dramatic. Her soul already went to hell so contract fulfilled. She's gonna try to kill me but.." before Dean or Sam could ask Crowley touched two fingers to Dean's forehead. Flashes of an Okami, pain of claws ripping into his chest and the heartbreaking sound of your sobs tore through Dean's head.

"She couldn't face losing you so she made a deal. Be glad I took over when I did. Lucifer and his flunkies were having fun with your girl" "She wouldn't agree to be a demon" Sam argued but Crowley shrugged "A little over four hundred years of torture. A hundred of those were under Lucifer and Zachariah. She's stronger than most of the souls in hell but the things they did to her.." he trailed off and Dean could feel his jaw clench with anger even before Crowley met his eyes "No angelic interference for her, guess she wasn't important enough. I needed an attack dog. Someone who if they were spotted working at my side the threats were taken seriously"

"So you've been using her?" Sam asked. Crowley scoffed "I gave her freedom from the racks. I put her body back together so she'd have it. I made sure to keep her off the angels radar. I've gotten her to kill a few dozen demons but nothing she wouldn't have done in life. How the hell have I been using her? Would you two prefer me to have left her to an eternity of whatever being decided to plunge a blade or other things into her?"

Dean swallowed down the bile in his throat at Crowleys words and the images that accompanied them to ask "Why didn't she let me know?"  and Crowley laughed again "Did you not see that little performance? She was afraid you'd hate her so she stayed off the beaten path" "Then why did you bring her here tonight?" Sam demanded.

"She's wrong for lack of better terms. She shouldn't care like she still does, shouldn't have so much left of her human personality. Her soul was stronger than I gave it credit for. If she stays a demon she's gonna e a threat to my throne" Dean swung without thinking and connected a hard punch to Crowleys jaw "You've kept her from me for years, YEARS. and now you're only telling me so she can't dethrone you? The only reason I'm not killing you is so you can help me find her"

Ireland, Scotland, Australia, New Zealand and South America. It was hard to find a coven that would play well with a demon, let alone one marked by the king of hell as his right hand woman but you finally did. 

You sat in the middle of the circle, watching the woman paint sigils onto your skin. Once she was done she rejoined the circle. You sat silently as they chanted, the sigil glowing then absorbing into your skin. You looked at the head witch "No one can summon me now?" She nodded "Your boss can probably still get a feed on where you are but no one can summon you" you paid her the fee and thanked the rest of the coven before blinking out. You were back in Washington state, almost at the Canadian line. 

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You had a cabin there, somewhere you stayed when Crowley didn't need you at his side. Somewhere you were able to ignore everything that had happened. You weren't right as a demon. They weren't supposed to feel, weren't supposed to care yet here you were. 

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You washed your face then looked at yourself in the mirror letting your eyes slip to black. Even as a demon you were held together by paperclips and rubber bands. The memory of the look on Dean's face flashed through your head and you smashed the mirror. What the hell were you supposed to do now?

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