#Silver is into short kings according to nature

[silverequation]

So because Silver has tiny ears and lives in Soleanna/Italy he’s believed to be a european hedgehog and European hedgehogs have shown homosexuality

but if Silver is a gay european hedgehog then he would be attracted to short guys because gay euro hedgehogs have all been attracted to smaller males

[vassia-sparta]

Daemon Soulmate AU - How the bond was discovered - Part 1

So sorry it took this long to get this out, but I had originally intended to keep this short. However, inspiration turned this into a long fic, so I'll be cutting it into parts. I have not finished it yet, but I intend it to have three parts.

Before you met your soulmate, you would have never expected to become the wife of a Targaryen prince. Being the daughter of a minor lord from the Riverlands, you were expected to marry according to your station. House Bracken, or maybe Blackwood, or even Tully, if you could ever be that lucky. Any of those would be great for you.

However, your father, being an ambitious man, took you with him to the capital, hoping you’d catch the eye of a powerful lord, bringing glory and prestige to your house with such a successful match. He made sure you were dressed in modest, yet attractive dresses and a few delicate jewelry, and he instructed you to be within sight of any prospective heirs, either walking up and down the hallways of the Red Keep, or standing close to the courtyard where the knights trained.

You did as he instructed, and you even managed to catch the eye of lord Borros Baratheon, which pleased your father greatly. You future seemed to be set in stone, and you had even tried to make your peace with it. Growing up you had dreamed of marrying for love, finding that one man who would look at you as if you were his entire world. You now knew of course that such thoughts were foolish dreams, so you compromised. After all, most girls would give up almost everything to become the wife of the lord of Storm’s End.

The day of the tourney organized to celebrate Queen Alicent’s nameday dawned, and you got dressed in your best dress, a violet one with silver flowers embroidered on the sleeves and hem. It was your favorite color ever since you could remember, so you chose it to make sure you made a good impression on lord Borros. He was going to compete in the tourney, so maybe if he won, he would crown you his Queen of Love and Beauty, which was as good as a proposal, according to your father.

You sat in the lower seats, closer to the tourney grounds, eager to see the fights. Most girls were quite squeamish, but not you. You longed to see these brave men compete against each other, like those you had read about in your books. There was even a rumor that prince Daemon, the King’s brother, would compete as well. Everyone at court spoke of him, of his rogue and wild ways. But they also spoke of his flirty nature, and his teasing of every pretty maiden he came across. Recently widowed, after his late wife died in a hunting accident not three moons past, he became the target of every unmarried maiden in court. Your father had warned you to stay away from him though, as it was known how he had disrespected the late lady Rhea Royce during their marriage. There were even rumors that he had not even consummated the marriage, preferring the company of whores. Still, you were curious to see the famous man in person.

The matches began, and they were nothing like you expected. You were not prepared for the brutality of the hits, or the scent of blood that filled the arena every time some unfortunate man got badly wounded. Three men died before midday, yet the people cheered even harder every time the horses clashed. You were starting to reconsider on your opinion of these tourneys.

The next match was announced, and you held your breath. Lord Borros was going to compete against prince Daemon. First lord Borros entered the arena, and he rode his horse up to where you sat, dressed in his shining armor, his helmet in the shape of a stag’s head, complete with antlers.

“My lady, may I have the honor of carrying your favor today, so that I may be victorious in this difficult fight?”

You gave him the wreath you had made with a soft smile, and he even kissed it in front of everyone before he made his way to his corner. You knew that you should have felt something when he did that, but there was nothing. Your heart didn’t beat any faster, your cheeks didn’t heat up, absolutely no reaction. As if your body and mind knew that this man was not the one for you. You shook your head, trying to get such silly notions out of your head. You barely knew lord Borros. In time, you would come to love him. At least, you hoped you would.

Prince Daemon entered the arena, clad in his black armor. His helmet, shaped in the head of a dragon, covered his entire face, leaving only his eyes out. The people cheered for him so loud, it was deafening. He was truly the prince of the city, as you had heard some whisper. People loved their King, but they adored their prince.

He didn’t ask for any lady’s favor, only sat on his magnificent black stallion at the opposite side from lord Borros, the beast eager to jump ahead. The squires gave the lances to the two men, and the match began. The two horses raced towards each other, the lances lowering to hit the opponent. The impact was deafening, prince Daemon’s lance shattering against lord Borros’s shield. The storm lord still sat on his horse however, and when he reached the end of the arena he turned his horse around, then set off to attack the prince once more.

The second run was not much different. Prince Daemon’s lance found its mark once more, only this time it was with enough force to knock lord Borros off his horse, sending him to crash on the dirt. The crowds cheered for their prince, while the announcer declared prince Daemon winner of the joust.

Lord Borros got up on his feet, swaying a little, unsteady.

“Warhammer!” he yelled, his squire hurrying to give him the mighty weapon.

“Lord Borros wishes to continue in a contest of arms!” the announcer declared, and the crowd cheered anew.

Of course they would want to see more of this, you thought. The people always thirsted for bloodshed, as long as they could observe from a safe distance.

The dragon prince got off his horse and called for his sword. You had never seen the famous Dark Sister before. It was beautiful. He grabbed it and made his way towards lord Borros, twirling the valyrian steel blade in his hand.

The two men came together in the middle of the field, the clang of their weapons echoing all over the arena. Lord Borros fought angrily, swinging the warhammer at prince Daemon, but the other man was too quick for him. The dragon dodged all the attacks, delivering blows to the storm lord’s sides. At one point, lord Borros almost managed to crush the prince with a blow on his shield, but the hammer lodged into the wood, and the two men wrestled, trying to separate, with little success. Prince Daemon saw an opportunity and kicked Lord Borros’s feet from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. The storm lord lost his grip on his hammer and, before he could grab it once more, the dragon prince jumped on him and placed his blade against his neck, immobilizing him.

“Yield,” he declared.

Lord Borros huffed and puffed, but saw that there was no way to escape.

The prince pushed the blade a bit further, drawing the tiniest amount of blood from his opponent’s neck.

“Yield, or die before your lady’s eyes,” he called out, much to your embarrassment.

Defeated, lord Borros yielded, and the crowds cheered once more for their prince.

Victorious, prince Daemon walked all the way where lord Borros has tossed his lance and removed the wreath you had made. He walked his way toward the seating area, stopping right in front of you. You could feel your blood freezing in your veins, and you wondered what he was going to do. Would he ridicule you in front of everyone? Beside you, your father also stood motionless.

The dragon prince removed his helmet and lifted his gaze to look at you. The moment your eyes locked, the ice in you was replaced with fire. All traces of fear and embarrassment vanished, and a warm feeling filled you from your toes to your head. You wanted to move, to step away from whatever it was he was doing to you, but your body wouldn’t respond. You saw those deep violet eyes, the same color as your dress, staring right into your soul, but you didn’t fear them. You knew, deep in your heart, that he would never hurt you.

The prince seemed to be bereft of speech as well, staring at you, saying nothing. His mouth was slightly open, his chest rising slowly. In the end, he smiled at you, a soft smile that sent a new wave of warmth through you.

After you father coughed a bit loudly, he seemed to return to his senses, and a smirk replaced the soft smile on his face.

“My lady, I believe this is yours,” he offered the wreath to you. His voice sent jolts up and down your spine, like invisible fingers teasing your back.

You took the wreath in your trembling hands, your eyes never leaving his.

“It seems you favor helped me more than your storm lord,” the prince teased you, his eyes full of playfulness.

“Then you should keep it my prince,” you replied, and you could feel your father tensing even more beside you.

You knew that such a move was outrageous, that you would be the talk of the entire court, but you didn’t care. Something in you screamed at you to do it, so you did.

The prince was surprised by your reply, but he quickly recovered, and took the wreath back in his hands.

“Thank you sweet lady,” the prince bowed his head, licking his lips as he gave you one last glance. Then he turned and exited the arena, while the people cheered him once more.

--

Your father was furious when you returned to your chambers.

“What were you thinking, offering your favor to your intended’s opponent? Do you know how that makes you look in his eyes?” he raged, while you sat on your seat, head down, hands clasped tightly on your lap.

“I apologize father, but I thought it was only right, since prince Daemon defeated lord Borros,” you muttered.

“You foolish girl,” he threw his goblet on the floor, “what if lord Borros decides not to ask for your hand, what will we do then?”

Though you knew you should be horrified at such a prospect, you were actually relieved at the idea. Somehow, you no longer could imagine yourself beside lord Baratheon, playing the role of dutiful wife, raising your children and keeping your house in order.

In your imagination, the man beside you had flowing silver hair, a pair of haunting violet eyes and a playful smirk that promised of many mischiefs.

The warmth you had felt earlier returned, but only until your father’s words broke through your pleasant fantasy.

“Tomorrow night, at the banquet, you will do your very best to get close to lord Borros, and make sure you are far away from the prince. His reputation is more than enough to destroy you, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that spoiled brat ruin my plans.”

You had the sudden urge to defend the dragon prince, but you shut your mouth before you could say anything that would further anger your father. Instead, you bowed your head, promising to do your duty, even if you didn’t like it.

--

The next day, your father had to meet with some important people, so you took the opportunity to escape to the gardens, hoping that the pretty flowers and the quiet would help clear your mind. You had spent your night dreaming of violet eyes, dragonfire and a sultry voice that beckoned to you. You woke up sweaty and with an unexplained ache between your legs. You had no idea what is was, so you did your best to ignore it.

You dressed in a simple light blue dress, tied your hair in a simple braid and made your way down to the gardens, trying to avoid any people. You knew that you had been the talk of the day, so you tried to steer clear of any gossipers, if only to keep the situation from getting worse.

You found a nice secluded spot in the gardens and sat on a stone bench, enjoying the delicate flowers blooming all over you and the birds chirping on the trees. You spent a lot of time just looking around taking in the vibrant colors, the different fragrances and the gentle breeze that caressed your face.

You were so lost in your own little world, that you didn’t hear the footsteps that approached your little spot.

“Good morning my lady,” the voice that had haunted your dreams last night came from your right, and a shiver ran down your spine. You turned to look at him, and your breath paused, just like the day before. What was it about him that made you feel like that?

“Good morning my prince,” you nodded, averting your gaze, even if it hurt you to do so. You remembered your father’s words, and rose from your seat, hoping to leave before anyone saw you with the prince.

“Do I frighten you so much that you want to flee at my very sight?” the dragon prince questioned, making you pause. He was dressed in a white linen shirt and a black leather doublet emblazoned with the sigil of his house. Black pants and boots completed his attire. His sword was absent, but he had a dagger strapped on his belt.

“No my prince, I just thought you might want to be alone, I don’t mean to impose.”

“On the contrary, I was actually looking for you.”

You turned to look at him, and tried really hard not to let those haunting violet eyes consume you whole.

“Why?” was all you were able to reply.

“I was just curious to meet the woman lord Borros is so interested in. If you managed to attract his attention for more than a night, then you must be someone special.”

You felt your cheeks redden at his comment. It was well known that lord Borros frequented the Street of Silk, and had even fathered no less than three bastards, on three different women. And the worst? He kept all three women close to Storm’s End, and visited each of them when he felt like it.

When you had mentioned all that to your father, he had simply shrugged and said: “As long as he decides to marry you and gives you an heir, the rest is irrelevant.”

You gritted your teeth, trying not to let your anger get the best of you. After all, this was a member of the royal family you stood before. No matter what he said, you had to remain calm.

“Excuse me my prince, I think I’ll take my walk in a different place,” you simply replied, avoiding to look at him.

“Why, we are having a pleasant conversation,” the man had the audacity to ask. You could feel the smugness emanating from him, you really could.

“No we don’t,” you flashed your gaze at him. “You’d have to be pleasant for that to happen my prince, and I assure you, you are anything but pleasant. Good day,” you curtsied, abandoning him in the gardens.

You knew that he had enjoyed tormenting you with his cruel words. You wanted nothing more than to hurt him in some way, but instead you decided to take a long walk, hoping to let off some steam. Maybe if you found lord Borros and managed to get him to ask for your hand, you’d soon get married and get as far away from the capital as possible.

--

Daemon stood in the spot you had left him, watching you as you fled from the gardens, amused. He had no idea why he liked riling you up, but he did. He could feel the anger flowing through you, he relished in the feeling it gave him.

He had caught a glimpse of you just before the tourney had started, when that oaf Baratheon had made a spectacle of asking for your favor. Did he really think that such a pathetic move would be enough to win over the heart of a woman?

Daemon could see that you were not interested in him. You were just doing your duty, as per your station. Yet your father was trying his best to get the storm lord to ask for your hand, despite the foul reputation the oaf had.

It would be a shame, Daemon thought, to let a woman like you be sullied by a man like Borros. It was why he had brought the favor back to you after the match had ended. It was scandalous, to be sure, but Daemon was never known to be a man of discretion. Not to mention that your dress was his favorite shade of purple, so close to the color of his eyes. It almost called to him.

He still remembered that warm feeling that had enveloped him when your eyes met. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. Being a dragon, he was no stranger to warmness and fire; yet this was different. This type of fire was neither harmful, nor scorching. It was the sort you felt when you were near someone you cared, someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with…

He shook his head, trying to get a grip on his wild emotions. Perhaps it would be best to steer clear of you for the foreseeable future. It was not his place to interfere with the affairs of lords and ladies. He promised to keep away from you, hoping the oaf would ask for your hand soon, and you’d be out of his life soon. Yes, that would be ideal. He left the gardens, heading to the Dragonpit to take Caraxes for a flight, ignoring the pang he felt when he thought of you married to the Baratheon fool. Yes, a flight would surely help him clear his head.

--

There goes the first one. I'll be posting the second one soon!

[psalmonesermons]

If God has planted eternity in the human heart then how should we live?

The message below takes 4 minutes to read.

When we consider the meaning and purpose of our life, it is important to put our lives in the context of eternity. The Preacher (aka King Solomon) says in Ecclesiastes 3:11 that God ‘has set eternity in our hearts’, which I take to mean that, God has given we humans an awareness/consciousness that there is something beyond our natural lives.

An awareness that there is someone and something that is beyond our understanding of time.

Eternity represents a fork in the road, when we are trying to fathom out, just exactly what is the meaning or purpose of our life. Are you living for time, or for eternity?

If we have taken the Jesus fork on the road, then perhaps today might be a fitting time to revise our bucket lists but this time in the light of eternity.

So what is on your personal bucket list today? A bucket list, as you know, is a list of all the main things we want to do before we die i.e. before we kick the bucket! Here are the most popular types of items on most peoples' bucket list

To go somewhere they have never been

To do something they have never done

To do something exciting/dangerous/extravagant perhaps just one time in your life.

This raises the question what can we take from this life into the next?

Here is what Jesus said in Matthew 6:19 “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. 20 But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.

So, what does this mean?

So, what treasure we can store up in heaven?

Here is what the Apostle Paul said in the key passage about the judgement of believers works.

1 Corinthians 3:10 According to the grace of God, which is given unto me, as a wise Master Builder, I have laid the foundation, and another buildeth thereon. But let every man take heed how he buildeth thereupon.

Paul likened the Christian life to constructing a building and tells us we must build carefully.

11 For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ.

For every one of us

12 Now if any man builds upon this foundation gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stubble. Our works not our salvation. In your life are you building a palace or a mud hut? [1]

13 Every man's work shall be made manifest: for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire; and the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is. Gold,Silver and Precious Stones are fireproof but not Wood,Hay and Stubble.

We will all bring our big bag of works to the bema (platform) judgement.

14 If any man's work abides which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a reward.

The various crowns to cast at Jesus’ feet.

15 If any man's work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss: but he himself shall be saved; yet so as by fire. Clearly this is talking about loss of reward not loss of salvation.

The fire will differentiate between work we have done in the flesh (our own ideas, our own power) and work we have done by the Spirit (God’s ideas and God’s power).

So, in closing here are some things to consider for our spiritual bucket lists in the light of eternity. Here are some ideas of the type of thing that might bring you gold, silver, and precious stones in heaven.

At this stage I believe this could be an opportunity in which God wants to communicate with each one of us personally today, so be open to what the Lord might be saying to you personally.

1] Go somewhere for God you have never been, maybe a short-term mission Testimony-Brazil, Tanzania-made many friends who still are today!

2] Do something for God you have never done before, do something creative write something, sing something, paint something, give something, pray something, bless someone Use all your God-given creative talents to full effect.

3] Do something exciting/dangerous/extravagant for God, perhaps just this one time in your life, share the Gospel message, tell a friend or neighbour about your faith, be a good Samaritan to someone in need.

Or what about the wonderful woman who poured the alabaster box of costly perfume on Jesus’ feet? She did not store up her treasure on earth.

Here is her story, in

Luke 7:37 And, behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster box of ointment,38 And stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment.

Those present had doubts and concerns about the woman, but Jesus praised her, whoever has much forgiven , loves much. What about you?

Prayer

Father God, we ask you in Jesus’ name, to teach us how to live and to love in the light of eternity. Show us all the tasks and opportunities of that are from you which will produce treasure in heaven. Show us what is on your list for me specifically and help me to live out and complete your plan (bucket list) for my life.

Amen

[1] Roger Price CCF Tapes BBS 023

[andnatiabrosca]

Hello! :)

So… What about

Glance, Formal and Favourite for Nat and Maran? :3 (and Miriam too if you'd like, I'm curious!)

hello!! sorry for asking for asks and immediately disappearing. we had a massive tomato harvest in today (multiple 5gal buckets massive) (last of the season) so I was unexpectedly processing that all day!

anyway. here goes! I haven't thought about maran in a hot second ngl

[prompt list]

cut for length because this became a bit of a character study as usual

glance: at first glance, what stands out most? what's their distinguishing feature?

Nat is stupid short. Dwarva are short to start with; Nat is short for a dwarf. She had tried to make up for her stature by taking her marks for her carta clan bolder and earlier than most, and wearing her conquested jewels (her locks) proudly in her ears and face. Prove she was worth fearing, even if she was small. She's still first noticed to be short.

Maran has bright silver hair. When she was little, she had been towheaded. Her hair had darkened over the years, as most towheads do, though she always preserved a few white-gold strands. Until the Conclave. When she woke from whatever funny business had taken place, her hair was a metallic silver. It does gradually fade through the events of Inquisition, coming close to returning to her natural dark brown with white-gold strands - but the events at Adamant turn those white-gold pieces permanently metallic silver.

Miriam is a Hawke. I mean, she's a Fereldan apostate mage with no fear and a disastrous ego. It's more a question of who is looking at her than what is universally most noticeable. She wears her kaddis, sure, despite not having a mabari to partner. She wears much less clothing than most of the Marchers, being so used to the colds of Lothering. She carries her fuckoff big staff with a bloody statue on the end of it. She has lightning scars up her arms. It depends who's looking.

formal: what's their formal look? do they like dressing up? do they have different looks for different occasions?

Nat has struck a delicate balance of Paragon and Commander in her formal dress. Technically she ought to dress according to her most relevant title at any given function - but she is not a thousand disparate Natias. She is Warden Nat Brosca, Commander of the Grey, Paragon of Duty to Orzammar, Advisor to the Throne of Fereldan, and Sister of the King of Orzammar. In broad strokes, as I still want to get an actual sketch done sometime, she wears the veil and gems as befit a Paragon and Warrior of Orzammar, and her formal warden blue and greys. Nat enjoys demonstrating her power. The clothes...not as important. In time, putting on her formal uniform becomes a ritual to center herself in her body before she has to go Be The Hero.

Maran knows how to dress well. She knows how to dress for an occasion. She enjoys the feeling of rich fabrics. Enjoys the drape and flow. Enjoys feeling correctly feminine - and a little like an imposter. Like she's playing dress up in her older sisters' dressers. Like she's stolen the fine silks and broad skirts and any moment her mother will catch and scold her. Maran loves to play the lady she should have been raised to be, had her parents fewer daughters to marry off and better matches to be made. But it will only ever be playing.

Miriam will not wear a dress. Nope. Not doing. So she fails at dressing formally (or even appropriately) in most contexts. Good thing no one argues with the Champion. (The last argument might have ended in an irate noblewoman slowly thawing off the side of her Hightown mansion. Maybe.)

favorite: do they have a favorite article of clothing or accessory? what is it? what is the meaning? do they always wear it or store it for safekeeping?

Nat is pretty simple - her oath. She has places she could store it, if she wanted, but it doesn't feel safe to leave anything she cares about away. Her oath hangs around her neck, every moment of every day. When she leaves to find the Cure, she adds a scrap of fabric tied around the chain. She's a terrible mother. A scrap of her daughter's blanket reminds her to come home, better.

Maran hasn't seen her favorite dress in years. It was once her grandmother's wedding gown, carefully cut and sewn and embroidered with snowdrops along the hem. Then her mother's, the sides let out to accommodate a just-couldn't-wait growing stomach. Then her sister's - and her sister's - and her sister's - and her sister's - and her sister's. Then it was too big for Little Mar. Then she wasn't enough of a lady. Then she took herself to britches - and then she left home. It might still be in her mother's cedar chest, waiting for a white-gold bride. It'll have to wait another twenty years, if it is. Maran has been a bride already, in muddy boots and heavy blue woolen britches, a snowdrop hastily (Badly) embroidered on the hem.

Miriam would never admit to enjoying anything ever. She's kind of a bitch. And horribly mentally unstable. Probably would do better if she could allow herself to feel joy not related to murdering templars and/or fucking her possessed boyfriend. Is that boyfriend Justice or is it Anders? Your guess is as good as hers.

[maximuslush]

NICHOLAS GALITZINE, CISMALE, HE/HIM/HIS The 74th Annual Hunger Games are upon us and here comes MAXIMUS LUSH, a  DISTRICT 4 ESCORT. Word around The Capitol is that they’re CHARISTMATIC & A PERFECTIONIST but can also be ALOOF & SUPERFICIAL. According to sources, they’re 29 and were once described as a golden signet ring resting on the pinky, dark brown hair in the winter, and golden blonde in the summer, a crisp suit walking down the croso, & a glinting smile in the district 4 sun on reaping day. What a character! As we always say, may the odds be ever in their favor!

BASICS.

name — Maimus Lush

nick names — Max, Maxy

titles & alias’ — District Four Escort 

gender — Cis-Male

pronouns — He/Him/His

romantic & sexual orientation — Homosexual, Homoromantic

age — 29

place of birth — The Capitol

current residence — The Capitol

PERSONALITY.

positive traits — Charismatic, Perfectionist 

negative traits —  Aloof, Superficial 

likes  —  reflective surfaces, parties, attention, shiny things, receiving gifts, & people recognizing him 

dislikes  — being ignored, not getting his way, people looking down on him, knowing people don’t like him, & cheap clothing

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

eye color — Hazel 

hair color — Naturally; Brunette. Usually Dyed Blonde

hair style — Worn short and neat

complexion — Pale

build — Athletic

height — 6’0

clothing — Finely tailored suits in various colors, always very well fitting and very stylish, maximus is obsessed with his looks and will go to great lengths to always look his best. 

accessories & jewelry — Maximus has one of his ears pierced and usually always has something in it, he also wears a wide range of rings across various fingers, the one constant is the Lush Family signet ring he wears on his pinky. Also never far from him or his person is a pair of sunglasses. 

faceclaim — Nicholas Galitzine 

RELATIONSHIPS.

grandparents — Hadrian Lush (Paternal) 

parents —   Invictus & Vera Lush

siblings — 2 Older Sisters; Mellona & Menodora Lush

romantic interest —  tbd

children — none

pets — a Cavalier King Charles, named; Zelena

Bio:

Maximus Lush comes from an old money family in the Capitol, his grandfather was a high-ranking member of the War Department, his Father a Gamemaker, and his mother a Capitol Socialite. Maximus could have done anything he wanted with his career, and he wanted to work in the games, but not like his father, he wanted to be on television, and so his family using their connections secured him a position as an Escort for District 4, something he’s been doing for 5 years now.

As an Escort, Maximus is very self-forward seeing the games as a way for himself to get more publicity always having loved the spotlight. That’s why he was happy to be partnered with a District that was known to produce tributes who were popular, and had a real shot at winning. He was also happy that when it was time to go out to the Districts he was going to one of the wealthier Capitol-friendly districts, and the weather certainly did help. Maximus cares about his tributes as an extension of himself, he wants them to do good so that he can look good. Victors after all means more time on camera and more attention on him.

Maximus and the Lush family as a whole are very obsessed with image both their personal images and the family image. They put a lot of weight on status and wealth, and because of that Maximus always strives to look his absolute best. His suits are always finely tailored and in colors that compliment him. Depending on the time of year, he changes his hair color, liking to wear it dark in the winter, and light in the summer. He also usually wears several rings on his hands and has one of his ears pierced. Knowing just exactly is enough accessorization and when it becomes too much. Beyond his good looks, and charming personality Maximus can be incredibly vapid, and not very bright. Something he desperately tries to hide behind a pretty smile and silver tongue.

[blueiscoool]

10 Dazzling Gold and Silver Treasures Discovered in 2022

Over the centuries, humans have crafted gold and silver into jewelry, coins and other stunning items. Some of these shiny objects were interred in burials or lost from loose pockets, only to be found hundreds of years to millennia later by archaeologists digging into our past or even unearthed unintentionally by members of the public. Here are 10 extraordinary discoveries that came to light in 2022.

1. 'Cheap Jewelry' is Really Gold Viking Ring

When a woman in Norway bought a bundle of cheap jewelry at an online auction, she was expecting to find some fun costume pieces to wear. Instead, she discovered something else entirely: a large gold Viking ring designed from twisted metal strands. The woman showed the ring to archaeologists, who dated it based on its style. According to the archaeologists, a powerful Viking chief may have owned this ring more than 1,000 years ago.

2. Kitchen Renovation Uncovers Gold Coin Stash

A routine kitchen renovation led to the discovery of a lifetime: a hoard of gold coins hidden beneath the wooden floorboards of an 18th-century house in the U.K. The stash includes more than 260 gold coins dating from 1610 to 1727 and is estimated to be worth around $290,000 (250,000 pounds).

3. Byzantine Gold Coins in Israel

Archaeologists on a nature reserve in northern Israel dug up a trove of 44 gold coins dating to the Byzantine Empire (circa A.D. 330 to 1453). These gorgeous coins date to the reigns of Emperor Phocas (A.D. 602 to 610) and Emperor Heraclius (A.D. 610 to 641). The hoard's owner may have buried the stash before fleeing from Muslim soldiers, who invaded the region in A.D. 635.

4. Gold and Silver Coins near an Egyptian Temple

For the last millennium, a cache of gold and silver coins sat buried underground near an Egyptian temple. These coins date to the Islamic era, which lasted from A.D. 610 until the 13th century. The coins are varied, including 286 silver coins of kings and kingdoms from that time, gold coins, a coin from what is now Armenia that was minted during King Leo II's reign in the 13th century, and bronze and brass coins from the Ottoman Empire.

5. 3,000-Year-Old Gold Funeral Mask from China

The 3,000-year-old tomb of a noble in what is now central China contained a rich treasure: a gold funeral mask, one of the oldest gold objects ever found in the region. The mask is large enough to cover an adult's face and may have symbolized that the deceased had an "imperishable gold body," researchers said.

6. "Abbess" Buried with Gold-and-Garnet Necklace

An elite woman buried in seventh-century England was laid to rest with a stunning necklace made of gold, garnets and Roman coin pendants. The burial included two impressive crosses, indicating that this medieval woman may have been an early female Christian leader such as an abbess, or possibly even royalty.

7. Gold Coin Features Assassinated Roman Emperor Volusianus

Excavators unearthed a "very rare" gold coin depicting a murdered Roman emperor in Hungary. The third-century A.D. coin shows the face of Emperor Volusianus, who co-ruled with his father for about two years before his own soldiers killed him and his father. Because Volusianus' reign was so short, coins showing his likeness are rare, especially in Hungary, where Roman gold coins are very uncommon. This coin was very valuable at the time, so losing it must have been a great loss to its owner.

8. Ancient Gold Belt Discovered on Beet Farm

In the Czech Republic, a beet farmer unexpectedly uncovered a crumpled sheet of gold on his land. The farmer alerted local archaeologists, who determined that the gold treasure was likely the front of a leather belt dating to the Bronze Age, nearly 2,500 years ago. Concentric circles decorating the gold sheet might represent cosmological systems, the archaeologists said. It's unclear who owned the belt, but whoever did was clearly elite.

9. Egyptian Ring Depicts 'God of Fun'

A 3,300-year-old burial from ancient Egypt contained a handful of valuable jewelry, including a gold ring with an engraving of the "god of fun." This deity, Bes, was often depicted as a dwarf and was usually portrayed playing music and having a good time. However, Bes was also known for protecting women during childbirth. Archaeologists also found a gold necklace and a ring with an Egyptian hieroglyphic inscription that translates to "Lady of the Earth," but the identity of the woman this inscription refers to is still unknown.

10. Rare Coin Shows Charlemagne Just Before his Death

There are precious few known portraits of Charlamagne made during his lifetime, but now one of them has been found on a rare, 1,200-year-old coin. The coin ended up in the collection of a French farmer, who left his treasured stash to his grandson. When his grandson went through the coins years later and put the Charlemagne item on eBay, German museum curators jumped at the chance to buy it. Charlemagne (ruled A.D. 768 to 814) had the coin, known as a denarius, portray him like a Roman emperor with a laurel on his hat and the dress of a Roman general, even though the Western Roman Empire had collapsed centuries before. Why? Because the Vatican had just crowned him emperor of the Romans on Christmas day in A.D. 800, so the coin was a fitting symbol.

By Laura Geggel.

[thenightling]

Uses for the Pentacle

There are many names for this symbol but when used in Wicca it's usually referred to as a pentacle (star within a circle, one point facing up). Pentagram is another term for it but that often is reserved for the inverted version, which has been used for dubious purposes by some people. (With the top point facing down). Disclaimer: There are lots of quibbling of when the term pentagram should be used or if the one in the circle is the pentagram and the one floating free is the pentacle. For purpose of convenience I am using the most common Wiccan definitions in this post, which you may not consider to be technically correct but in the end it's all a matter of semantics.

There's also a Free floating pentacle or pentangle (without the circle.)

The weird, mid-twentieth century misconception is that the symbol is for invoking demons or is Satanic. The irony is that for centuries, some Christians used the pentacle as a ward against demons. Here are some of the many uses of the pentacle in pop culture. with sources. Disclaimer: Only 1, 2, 4, and 6 are based on spiritual beliefs. The bulk of this has to do with the symbol's use in modern media. 1. Symbolic meaning. A symbol of nature and one's connection to nature. Each point is an element. Water, Fire, Earth, air, and spirit (top point). The circle has many symbolic purposes including human will, control, nature / the world. And unity. The symbol was used in Ancient Greece, Rome, and spread to Celtic uses, and even some modern Asatru. It can mean both nature and magick, especially in religions where magick is the heart of nature such as in Wicca where nature and magick are treated as one and the same. 2. Protecting a home against demons. In Medieval Germany the pentacle was hung over doorframes to ward out evil, including demons. Here it was known as the Drudenfuss. In Goethe's Faust Part 1 (Published in the 1780s), it was the only symbol that could trap, ward off, or physically harm the demon Mephistopheles. (That and rose pedals). You can also find many medieval churches with pentacles in the stain glass windows. 3. General protection against Werewolves. Multiple purposes in regard werewolves. In the 1941 film The Wolfman The pentacle could ward off or harm a werewolf. Especially if the symbol was engraved in or carved in silver. According to some legends a pentacle will appear, like a birth mark, somewhere on the body of a werewolf to warn you of what they are. The werewolf will also see a pentacle on the person they are next likely to kill (or who they will turn into a werewolf) while in wolf form. This happens in both The Wolfman and in the TV series Dark Shadows. Meanwhile in The Wolfman and the TV Series Dark Shadows wearing a pentacle pendant can protect you from transforming into a wolf against your will if you happen to be a werewolf. A pentacle on the wall of a building might keep a werewolf out. This is true in the movie An American werewolf in London. Note: In The Wolfman the pentacle is within the circle but in Dark Shadows and in An American werewolf in London it's a free floating pentacle or pentangle, where there is no circle. It's likely that either would work. 4. Angelic protection against djinn. According to legend King Solomon was given a ring with a pentacle on it, by the archangel Michael to protect him from demons and djinn and granting him the power to bind them to his will. 5. Protection against vampires. In The Dresden Files novels and the short lived Dresden Files TV series, Harry Dresden uses his pentacle, instead of a cross, against the vampires. In many works of literature today a vampire is warded by any symbol of faith so long as the person using it has faith in it. Bonus if the symbol is made of silver and the style of vampire is vulnerable to silver (same with werewolves). 6. Protection against dark magick. A free-floating pentacle or pentangle made of Rowan twigs, and bound at the points with read string or ribbon, hung somewhere in the house, is supposed to protect against hexes and black magick being used against you. This is an old Gaelic folk belief. 7. A possible early sigil of Morpheus, the lord of Dreams. Though not from the original mythology, in Jill Thompson's Little Endless books, Morpheus's symbol is a five pointed star. This is likely what his sigil was before his helm in Neil Gaiman's The Sandman, since he had to have had a sigil before the helm. 8. General magical uses in warding, invoking, binding, banishing, and manifesting. (Note: in Wicca you are strictly forbidden from attempting anything that would harm another.)

[devilisln-moved]

HEADCANONS

—    basics.

is your muse tall/short/average?  According to comic based character dossiers, Matt is 6′0, which is just about average, though I’m not really fussed if people have a particular impression of Matt’s size as influenced by the tv series what with Charlie Cox being 5/9, which isn’t really that short, tbh. Idek idek, I could go on for a little while about how badly skewed height is when it comes to men like no I’m sorry, but 5′9 is not a short king..are they okay with their height?  Yeah, he’s not really one to be intimidated by other’s people’s sizes compared to his. For obvious reasons and also he seems pretty secure with himself physically. do they spend a lot of time on their hair/grooming?  Yes, but it’s complicated. It’s less a matter of primping and more a matter of being tidy and clean, more due to his own particularities than vanity. So yeah, his suits are gonna be clean and pressed but he might have bed head bruised knuckles. does your muse care about their appearance/what others think?  Matt has some understanding that he’s an attractive man. Certainly, he lives in his own body but he can also read the physiological reactions of other people in his presence. He likes being perceived as desirable, but he also takes rejection gracefully for the most part. Matt worries about the state of his soul and mind more than what others think of his aesthetically. He knows he’s handsome and as a man has the ultimate cheat code of wearing a well-cut suit.

—    preferences

indoors or outdoors?  Indoors, but by a very small margin. Either way, the focus is less on inside/outside and more if he has the area maps out in his mind. It’s why he doesn’t travel much. it’s not just the matter of it being taxing to his senses, but his radar sense is basically his “eyes”. New places haven’t been mapped out, so he’s completely out of his element. Comparatively, though, indoors are much easier to predict than outdoors. rain or sunshine? Sunshine. Rain fucks with his senses. Yeah, yeah, I know the movie said the opposite but I trust Mark Waid’s vision lmao. Basically it makes it harder for him to read locations and orient himself. forest or beach? Hmmmm....hard to say. On one hand, trees sometimes make landscapes hard for him to cope. Beaches are generally nice, flat open spaces, but he wouldn’t like tropical beaches. Matt is very temperature sensitive and detests extremes.Also sand. Sand would drive him crazy. precious metals or gems?  I don’t really think he has a preference overall aside from preferring silver, gold, platinum, and naturally produced gems due to the way they smell better than metal alloys, nickel, and other costume jewelry. He’s not completely adverse. Stainless steel, pewter, glass, etc. are not offensive to him. flowers or perfumes? He likes both? Obviously flowers are superior, but he’s not completely opposed to perfumes and colognes. I do think he’s very sensitive to strong scents and artificial ones and doesn’t care much for say, some cheap fruity smelling body spray is going to give him a headache, but a well crafted, carefully balanced perfume is going to stand out to him. personality or appearance?  Obviously personality is going to matter more to him, but Matt does judge by some superficial standards, in his own way. For example, he’s not going to date someone that smells bad to him or has a quality of voice might completely put him off. being alone or in a crowd?  He doesn’t like large crowds as a general rule. It’s too overwhelming, especially a tightly packed one. It’s far too much stimulation for him and while he’s very skilled in managing the input that he’s experiencing day to day, he can get to a breaking point and just need to disconnect from the perpetual sensory onslaught. order or anarchy? Bit of both, because I do believe a little bit of anarchy has to be in his heart to do what he does. He’s very aware that the system is broken and while he’s willing and capable of working within the system to push against corruption and authoritarian mindsets, he’s just as aware that a broken system might just need to be shattered before it can be rebuilt and repaired. painful truths or white lies?  White lies. Matt lies a lot, if I’m to be quite frank. He lies about being Daredevil, he lies about his senses, he lies about whether or not he’s blind (ie: He’s perfectly fine with letting people think he can see when he’s in Daredevil mode). He lies about why he’s built the way he is (because y’know, I don’t think Matt is jacked or anything but I mean, he would look like he works out and is at peak physical condition, which I think a lot more people should notice lmao). science or magic?  Considering he has weird powers and has some vague sense of belief in a higher power (as I’ve mentioned before, I’m kinda eh on an overemphasis on his religiosity but I don’t like think he’s an atheist or anything), Matt is open minded when it comes to the unknown. He doesn’t trust magic over science, however, and his first instinct on something is to approach something logically. night or day?  No preference. There’s an interesting sleep disorder called non-24 hour circadian rhythm that affects blind people more often than most, It affects Matt from time to time, usually when his life is less ordered on a day to day basis for one reason or another. There are certain tells that inform him of the time or day, but I think it really only informs a sense of self rather tan day/night if that makes any sense (although admittedly even that’s very thin since Daredevil does not necessarily work only at night). dusk or dawn?  Dawn has a certain scent that appeals to him. warmth or cold?  Neither. He prefers mild temperatures.. Not too hot not too cold. many acquaintances or a few close friends?  A few close friends. Less people to trust his secrets with. However, I will say, Matt is a friendly person as a general rule, warm and compassionate. So he’s an easy conversationalist with just about anyone. reading or playing a game? For obvious reasons, reading appeals more. Since Matt was blinded at that formative age where one Christmas a Gameboy could get his hooks in him (although who know. As a general rule, his father is portrayed as a bit of a taskmaster when it came to his studies and school work. Jack might have been the type to deter Matt from wanting video game consoles or going to arcades), I don’t think he’d be the type to look into video games geared toward blind players in adulthood. Although he’s very literate with braille, Matt often listens to audiobooks and podcasts as well.

—    questionnaire.

what are some of your muse’s bad habits? The big ones are lying, recklessness/impulsive behaviour, being overtly judgemental, and being very, very secretive. Not just about being Daredevil but of how badly he’s hurt, how deep a shit he’s in when it comes to certain situations. The judgemental aspect, naturally comes with his strong moral centre and sometimes holding people at such high standards, but also on their lifestyle. For example, throughout Mark Waid’s run of writing Daredevil, Matt often expresses distaste over what Foggy eats and his sedentary tendencies. has your muse lost anyone close to them?  lol lmao, yeah most of family, his mentor, various lovers, friends, etc. Matt can be a little edgy about getting close to new people, but he’s also fully of empathy, compassion, and is very, very lonely. what are some fond memories your muse has?  They’re all related to the people in his life. Despite having enforced solitude drilled into from a young age, he greatly values the people in his life. While i truly don’t think there is much of a division between Matt and Daredevil, he’s not like Batman, who often seems to exhibit some dissociative tendencies, the fondest memories are linked to  being Matt Murdock. is it easy for your muse to kill? No, it’s kind of his thing as he’s among the no-kill crew of the vigilante set. You could say in his current series, he’s coming off having a nervous breakdown down due to accidentally killing someone (presumably his first, though you could probably cynically argue that it’s the first that he knows about). is your muse capable of trusting someone with their life?  Yes but he does still tend to be loner on the scene. He’s perfectly capable of trusting other heroes and collaborating, but his natural tendency is to go out and sort something alone until he has to seek out someone else’s help. what’s your muse like when they’re in love? Matt has a bit heart and I feel like he kinda wears it on his sleeve. I think it’s really cute that so many of his partners end up getting referred to as “the love of his life”, so i think it’s pretty clear that he goes all in when he falls in love. While he’s still secretive and protective against his night shift.it’s not out of disrespect. I’d say it looks good on him. Matt seems to be better off with companionship. I think it helps to ease some of the weight of the world off his shoulders and keeps his darker thoughts and feelings at bay. He likes to share his life and experience with others, and ends up being an invested and attentive partner when he’s not being a bit of a flake. He doesn’t mean to be, he’s just got a demanding job, either way you slice it. Personally, I think it’s better when the person he’s with knows he’s Daredevil. Matt feels guilty when he has to lie and cancel dates because of his vigilantism, whether he get caught up in something or ends up too injured.

tagged by: @overclocks​ tagging: free for all <333333

[tsarisfanfiction]

The Sun

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rated: Teen Genre: Angst/Tragedy Characters: Artemis, Apollo, Zeus, Meg McCaffrey

Apollo plays the role of an idiot well enough that often, it’s forgotten that he’s one of the most powerful gods - and one of the most wrathful.

Wow it’s been a while, but I’m poking at @flashfictionfridayofficial’s weekly prompts once again; this week is setting heaven on fire which plays nicely with an idea I had the other day.  Warning for major character death in this one.  This clocks in at 968 words, according to MSWord.

Apollo wasn’t the god of fire.  He was the god of many things, including the sun, but the domain of fire belonged to his half-brother (and Helios, once upon a millennia).

Right now, it was difficult to remember.

Zeus had pushed her brother too far, Artemis realised.  It was no idle musing, like she’d done in the past when her idiot twin prodded one button too many and their father’s retaliation had been swift and brutal. Apollo’s crimes had never fit his punishment, had always seemed far more severe than the situation demanded, but she was used to that by now.

Idle musing had no place in her mind right now.  Not with half the Olympians cowering in their thrones, covering their eyes against the god within their midst.

And this was why Zeus always came down hard on Apollo, driving him far enough under his thumb that he’d never dare challenge the king of the gods – because Zeus had defeated his father, and feared history repeating itself.  Because of all of Zeus’ children, equal though they were supposed to be, there was one who stood above the rest.  One who, once, had been blessed with a vast array of power, barely short of the Big Three themselves.

By Zeus, ironically, before his paranoia had caught up with him and he’d started seeing his children as threats.

The sad thing was, Apollo would never have opposed him.  Zeus’ harsh punishments had done their job and kept him, if not meek, because Apollo was never meek, but afraid.  Too afraid to ever stand up to him.

Until now.  Until Zeus’ latest punishment did the opposite of what he’d intended and gave Apollo insight into what had been happening to him, gave the god of knowledge the last few details he’d always missed – probably on purpose, if Artemis knew her twin at all.  Until Meg McCaffrey entered his life and turned four millennia upside-down within the span of six months.  Rude, irreverent Meg McCaffrey, who had no love for the gods and no fear of retribution.

No fear when she insulted Zeus one time too many, and the king of the gods reached his very short limit.

The young girl probably didn’t even realise she was dead, yet, the strike had been so swift.  Her soul would be face to face with Charon, berating him with all the disrespect she could fit in her small – too small – body, and her sudden change in location and living status likely had yet to register.

Up in Olympus, it had certainly registered with Apollo.

The sun always shone brighter than the moon, yet the sun always invigorated the moon, so Artemis was able to keep her poise on her silver throne.  Either side of her, her fellow goddesses were less fortunate. Love was powerful, and Aphrodite was the eldest of them all, but it was love that had sent Icarus flying up to the sun, and love that had failed to save him from its wrath.  Wisdom was knowing when you were outclassed and when to step back, a quality Athena was exhibiting marvellously as she leaned back, as far away from the inferno as her throne would allow.

Further, on both sides, nature was withering as the thing that gave it life flipped the coin and snatched it away instead.  Neither Demeter’s nor Dionysus’ thrones could withstand the sun so close.  Hera’s precious family was splintering before her eyes, but she was the Queen of Olympus and refused to cower even as her peacocks boiled alive.  At the end of the hall, a young girl desperately tended to her erratic hearth, the division of family affecting Hestia’s domain, too.

Hermes could go everywhere, with no restrictions, but he’d never been a match for his older brother and flattery, bribes and trickery meant nothing when the eleventh throne was merely collateral.  They were all collateral, really.  Beside the sweating messenger of the gods, the disfigured god of the forges sat unaffected by the inferno, although even Hephaestus preferred to look at something he was fiddling with than stare directly at the sun.

The other side of the empty golden throne sat the god of war, leaning forwards eagerly as though that would distract from the shades he’d materialised across his eyes, or the way beads of sweat rolled down his bulging muscles.  Ares was no less affected than the rest of them.

The sun could destroy water no more than water could extinguish the sun, and Poseidon lounged in his throne as a curious observer, watching and waiting to see what would happen. To see which would stand down first; the sun, or the sky.

Lightning was still crackling, the Master Bolt agitated to match the state of its wielder.  Zeus was thunder – not like thunder, but thunder itself, black and furious and loud.  Kronos’ children had used trickery to overthrow him, but Apollo was no trickster.  Apollo was bright, blindingly so, and incapable of not being the centre of attention at any given moment.

Now, standing before the king of the gods with none of the fear and respect Zeus expected, he was demanding every ounce of attention Olympus had to give, unapologetic and raging in a way only the sun could be.  He was setting heaven on fire, the bringer of life reminding them that it was also the bringer of death, and that the switch between the two was something as fragile as a mortal child.

Like all tyrants, Zeus had unwittingly created his own enemy, and Artemis didn’t know how it was going to end – foresight was Apollo’s domain, although whether he was using it right then, she had no way to tell – but she knew that, however the clash resolved, it would be remembered for millennia to come.

[simpforsimeon]

NAME

William De Van Dalzell

BIRTHDAY

July 16 (Cancer)

AGE

??

HEIGHT

175 cm

DOMINANT HAND

Right

HOMELAND

???

FAMILY

• Yuu (Last Name) [considers Yuu as his sibling]

ALIAS/NICKNAMES

• Liam/ old man (by Yuu)

• Roi des mystères (by Rook)

• Salmon/ Sāmon-chan (by Floyd)

GENDER

Male 

Appearance

William is a lean young man with long indigo-red hair—a part of it is tied in a single braid on the right side of his head—black fingernails, with fair skin. Surprisingly, he has aqua green eyes, which he used to keep hidden under his hair.

William often dresses in a white-collared, cleavage-revealing blouse with rolled up to the elbows sleeves, a red short waistcoat, adorned by a light gray cape with gold outline, which is colored a red-golden gradient on the underside, the cape only covers his forearms and is held together by a gold string.

Under his cleavage-revealing blouse, he wears a long sleeved black shirt that has tailcoats at each side of his hips and his back. He is also wearing a black with gold outlines fake corset.

He wears dark, tight-fitted trousers and knee-length boots. He also wears a loose brown belt from which his magic pen hangs. He has a necklace with a lavender stone.

Personality

William is almost always depicted as calm and composed, but when angered he is quite the force to contend with, often sadistic in his retaliation. 

He can also be a little eccentric, sometimes an enigmatic individual who giggles and grins frequently, appreciates laughter, enjoys frightening others and provoking reactions with his strange mannerisms, but wastes no efforts hiding his dark nature.

William is also a determined, strong-willed individual who seeks to prove his worth.

William later reveals that not only is he good with strategies and planning, but also a cruel and merciless person capable of infusing fear into his enemies.

While a largely logical person who knows how to use words to his advantage, William is not above threats and intimidation typical of a cold, experienced ??.

He is quite sadistic and has aggressive tendencies, with a glare that can scare even the most fearless man when he is angry.

According to everyone, he can be stubborn at times, especially when he isn't easily convinced. While almost all of his plans are effective, they tend to be complex and rather bizarre.

Willam's use of manners and polite conduct mostly attribute to maintaining a sense of control and power in any situation.

For the most part, acting like a 'normal' person makes those around him less wary, as when he's in public and needs to avoid suspicion.

Otherwise, it creates a certain distance between him and others, as if nothing they say ever fazes him (mostly to the ones he doesn't particularly like, actually, all of the first years except the braincell duo, Epel, Sebek, Jack and ramshackle duo)

This manipulation and usage of knowledge is the core of William's decision-making and tactics, making him dangerous.

(Here, have some basic information about William!

• Most people call him William Dalzell for short than saying "William De Van Dalzell" which can be quite mouthful to say.

• William could actually be almost the same age as Lilia [old man]

• Lilia, a powerful fae who is an old man 🤝 William, a powerful immortal human(?) who is also an old man

• Ajhsjsz

• Yuu thinks of William as either a father figure or an older brother figure

• William isn't his real name [Not telling at the moment what is his real name, as it will be known along the story of Child!Yuu and a fanfiction that I'll start which will contain the adventures of the Ramshackle duo {Grim and Yuu} and the first years]

• Lilia may or may not have known William before going to NRC.

• Yuu doesn't know how their family met William.

• Yuu is practically adopted by him.

• ✨Yuu, a human with short life span, adopted by an immortal being 🤝 Silver, a human with short life span, adopted by an immortal being✨

• Roi des mystères means King of mysteries, because Liam is considered a shady and mysterious individual by everyone.

• He knows a lot more than he lets on.

• Malleus is curious about him and Yuu.

• Floyd calls William as Salmon/Sāmon-chan because salmons are associated with wisdom and knowledge

▪︎ Also tell me in which dorm he should be in, as he is a lot like my irl self [which is also an Idia kinnie and Leviathan kinnie-] and I took a few quizzes and the results were always Diasomnia, Ignihyde and Scarabia)

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Magic is legal, Arthur knows The Truth and Merlin is... shit at explaining things:

Arthur demands a trip to visit the Druids, who are far more qualified than Merlin, so they can explain this whole... destiny thing.

I’ve written a lot of angst and Hurt!Merlin recently, so I just wanted to write something short and sweet and fluffy :)

SO.

Magic has been legalised, Merlin is Court Sorcerer, all the knights are alive and happy, Morgana is good, and the only thing Arthur has to worry about right now is what the hell to do about the rapidly growing crush he has on his BestFriend™.

After the dust had settled, Merlin had tried to sit Arthur down and tell him the whole story; all about Emrys, and the prophecies, and destiny. The King already knew about Merlin’s magic, and roughly how powerful he is, but that’s it.

But Merlin went so long barely mentioning it at all, not even to Gaius or Morgana or Lancelot, that he’s still not entirely sure what to say. Years of hiding and lying and trying desperately not to think about it, mean his brain now blanks when he tries to explain it.

After far too long of Arthur looking on confusedly whilst Merlin rambled on about dragons and coins and mental links and names, The Court Sorcerer gave up, and decided to just not bother.

Arthur, of course, decided that giving up was stupid, and made the executive decision that they would just go to the Druids, and someone who actual knew what they were talking about could explain it thoroughly. Maybe even allow Arthur to read the original prophecies.

Plus, it turned out that Initiating a Golden Age took quite a lot of work, so neither of them had had a chance to leave the city for weeks. They could do with the fresh air. And if Arthur saw it as a good chance to be properly alone with Merlin for more than half a candle mark? No one else needed to know, least of all Merlin.

~

It was a pleasant journey through the woods. The silences comfortable, and the conversations easy and filled with smiles.

Magic had only been legalised for about a fortnight, and after over twenty years of fear, magic users were still understandably cautious, meaning the closest Druid camp was still a two days ride away.

But that wasn’t a problem. With Merlin now able to use his magic openly, and therefor more able to defend his King, he found he was far less anxious about the trip outside the city than he would’ve been before. And if his good mood bled into the environment around them? Well... it was spring... surely no one would notice the extra flowers and abundance of butterflies?

(Arthur definitely noticed. But Merlin was still... wary, of performing sorcery openly, in fear of scaring the people who had been sucked in by two decades of propaganda and fear-mongering. Meaning Arthur sure as shit wasn’t going to point it out, in case Merlin stopped.)

It was around noon, and the sun was shining down on them when Merlin pulled his horse to a stop. He dismounts effortlessly, and hands a confused Arthur his reins. At Arthur’s raised eyebrow, Merlin sighs and speaks quietly:

“The camp is about two minutes further on but... the change in the law was only recent, and...-”

He bites his lip and looks away, worrying Arthur slightly, before continuing:

“-well, chainmail and red capes still make them a little nervous. I’ve already warned their leader that we’re coming-”

He taps his temple briefly:

“-but I should go ahead and explain properly.”

Arthur nods in understanding, and gives Merlin a comforting smile:

“I completely understand, Merlin. How long do you want me to wait, or will you come back to get me?”

Merlin returns his smile, before saying:

“Just wait ten minutes then follow me, straight down the path. Bring the horses, there’ll be somewhere to tie them there. You shouldn’t run into any trouble this close to a camp, but you do have a track-record so-”

Merlin laughs at Arthur’s indignant expression, but continues before he can interrupt him:

“-if you do, just yell. We won’t be too far away, we’ll hear you.”

Arthur rolls his eyes fondly and shoos Merlin away. The Warlock laughs as he turns and continues down the path on foot. Just before he disappears behind a large bush, he turns around again, a slightly concerned expression on his face:

“I might look a bit... different? But don’t mention it, they’re quite fond of me... uh... dressing the part.”

Arthur huffs out a laugh before saying:

“I’m sure I won’t forget what you look like in ten minutes, Merlin. Go.”

Merlin hums thoughtfully, and turns back around, disappearing into the trees and leaving Arthur to his thoughts.

After a few moments, he removes his cloak, tucking it into a saddlebag. He also, after only a little hesitation, removes his sword, strapping it to his saddle. It was still visible and easily within reach, but not so threateningly on display at his hip.

He was entering these people’s home, after personally wielding the sharp edge of their persecution for almost a decade; the least he could do was make them as comfortable as possible.

He hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, not even Merlin, but he had a feeling that this meet was going to end up being about more than the prophecies. Peace had been harboured, magic had been legalised, but like Merlin had pointed out, things were still a little tense. This meeting was a way to show the Druids that Arthur meant it, that his whole heart was behind this change. The he was not his father.

Arthur was a little nervous (not that he’d ever admit that), this was important. Not just to him and the kingdom, but to Merlin personally. He had to get this right. One of the only things that Arthur had managed to get out of Merlin, to do with the whole destiny thing, was that it was finished. It was done.

If Arthur messes this up, not only will it ruin the peace they had been working so hard for... then Merlin might leave. He has no reason to stay after-all, he’s done his job. So Arthur has to get this right, has to impress everyone, now more than ever, because if he fails and the Druids all leave Camelot, then Merlin would leave with them.

And that thought was... unbearable.

He counts down the minutes, getting more and more tense. He tried to distract himself by thinking about what Merlin had said, “dressing the part” what does that even mean?

But it doesn’t work. Soon enough his brain is throwing thought after paranoid thought at him, about all the possible ways Merlin could tell Arthur he hated him, and leave forever and ever.

Arthur rubbed his eyes harshly, muttering to himself about how he really should’ve accepted the “relaxing tea” Gaius had offered him before they left. Other than Merlin, the old physician is the only one who ever seems to know what he needs in the moment, Arthur should definitely learn to listen to him more.

He finally reaches zero in his mental countdown, and sighs before standing from where he’d sat on a fallen log. He’d allowed the horses to wander a bit but they were trained to stay close by, so he has no problem gathering their reins again and leading them slowly down the path Merlin had followed.

All Druid camps were different. Some moved around constantly, some stayed fairly still. Some were huge, acres large with hundreds of people, others were small, only ten people or so. Some were occupied by mostly the sick and elderly, others were full of the young and adventurous, and others were family orientated.

And of course it was rare, according to Gaius, that someone would stay in the same camp their whole life. The Druids were a nomadic people, always shifting, drifting, wandering. Following a constantly tugging thread in their hearts, going where nature beckoned them.

According to Merlin, this specific camp was pretty small (around twenty adults) but it was also a fairly familial group, meaning lots of children. And if that didn’t make Arthur nervous (it definitely did) then nothing would.

Arthur didn’t have much experience with children, and definitely had no concept of how to act around them, especially Druid children.

After about a minute of walking, Arthur could hear loud laughter and quiet conversations floating through the trees. He slowed his pace; trying to appear unthreatening and friendly, or to delay the inevitable, he’s not quite sure.

He finally breaks through the treeline to see that... no one is even looking in his direction.

It was the middle of the day, so the camp was busy, people milling about everywhere, most of the tents open, various jobs getting done throughout the clearing.

But what immediately drew Arthur’s eye, was the source of the laughter.

The King looked across the clearing to see Merlin, in a whole new wardrobe, and a whole new light.

The man had changed from his simple travellers clothes (basically the clothes he’d worn as a manservant, just a bit newer and cleaner.) into a loose, white, lace up shirt (sleeves rolled up, which Arthur absolutely did NOT find himself staring at, thank you very much.) paired with slim black trousers.

But what was most striking, was the deep blue cloak billowing behind him, and the silver crown on his head. It was delicate, as if forged with vines and leaves and feathers, but it was oh so Merlin.

Arthur stayed at the edge of the clearing, glad that no one had noticed him; allowing him to stare in reverence at his best friend.

He was surrounded by young children, all laughing joyously as his eyes glowed golden and he waved his hands around. He needn’t mutter spells as he smiled widely, willing butterflies and bees to manifest in the air around him.

One of the younger children held his arms in the air and made grabbing motions with his hands. Merlin bent over and pulled him up into the air without a moment of hesitation, spinning him around on the spot (much to the kid’s enjoyment, who giggled outrageously), before settling him on his hip.

He used one hand to support the kid’s weight (when did Merlin get so strong??), and used the other to summon flowers around the feet of the rest of the children.

A fond smile spread across Arthur’s face as he saw them run around exuberantly, gathering the flowers in chubby hands to present to parents and siblings and friends.

Arthur laughed softly as he saw Merlin reply enthusiastically to something that the boy on his hip had said, and a second later, the child had a butterfly perched on the end of his nose. 

Arthur is broken from his concentration, jumping a foot in the air when a soft hand lands on his shoulder from behind.

He whips his head around, just about managing to stop himself from yelping and reaching for where his sword usually is at his hip.

He calms his breathing as his eyes find the friendly face of a Druid, an amused smile on his face. Arthur returns his smile, a tad shakily, suddenly feeling the nerves again, and nods his head respectfully.

The man keeps his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, but looks towards Merlin in the clearing, before softly saying:

“He’s quite something, your Emrys, isn’t he?”

Arthur gulps, also looking back at Merlin as he replies with a chuckle that was only slightly forced:

“He’s more yours than mine, especially like this, but yes, he is something special.”

The Druid laughs disbelievingly, and Arthur turns to look, a confused expression on his face as he listens to his reply:

“Definitely not. He’s always belonged to you more than he’s belonged to us-”

He stops laughing to look at Arthur, eyes sparkling with friendly mirth as he continues:

“-prophecy or no, he had a... well... a pre-carved place among the Druids, but he still chose to carve his own space by your side. I think that speaks volumes about where he truly belongs, or at least where he wants to belong, don’t you?”

Arthur doesn’t really have a response to that as he stares at the man with barely concealed bafflement, but luckily, before the silence stretches too long, the Druid gestures to the clearing:

“Come. Everyone is excited to meet you, though I warn you, the children in this camp can be rather energetic, as you’ve already seen.”

Arthur gulps and nods, following him into the centre of the camp.

Everyone’s attention is quickly caught by The King’s presence, and someone comes over to wordlessly take the horse’s reins from him.

The adults bow their heads slightly in respect, giving him soft smiles, and the children fidget on the spot, wide grins on their faces as they whisper conspiratorially to each other.

The boy in Merlin’s arms wiggles, and he gets put down. He rushes over to Arthur, grabbing his hand with a toothy grin and dragging him over to Merlin and the other children.

Merlin hides a laugh behind his hand as Arthur’s eyes widen, and his face goes pale. He thought this was going to be meetings and serious discussions and apologies, not playing with children!! What do children even like?! Swords?? Can he talk to them about swords??! Druids are pacifists right? So probably not??

He gets pulled down to crouch, and the children crowd him, all babbling at once, wildly showing him flowers and butterflies.

Merlin laughs at his bewildered fear for a few moments, before he crouches next to Arthur and holds his hands up, saying loudly:

“Alright, alright, you lot. Remember what I said?”

The children still, and a chorus of “Yes Lord Emrys” resounds from the group. With that, they stay silent, but still grin widely and bounce on the spot in excitement.

Arthur gives Merlin a stressed, but grateful smile, before looking back to the children. He takes a deep breath, before smiling at them, and saying:

“My name’s Arthur. Thank you for having me, I appreciate your hospitality.”

Merlin snorts at his overly formal tone, and has to stop himself laughing at the shock and fear on Arthur’s face when one of the younger ones loudly asks:

“What’s hosp-ee-tal-it-ee?”

Arthur furrows his brows, but luckily one of the teenagers steps in, quietly saying:

“It’s when someone comes into your home, and you’re nice to them.”

Arthur smiles and nods, and Merlin chuckles in amusement.

Thankfully (for Arthur) Merlin then stands and announces to the children that it’s lunch time, and to get washed up. They all rush off, and Arthur lets out a breath as he stands.

Merlin holds in yet another laugh, but tilts his head in confusion as Arthur’s gaze is once again drawn to the crown that rests on Merlin’s unruly hair.

Merlin flushes slightly when he realises what Arthur is looking at, looking to the floor and mumbling:

“You have no idea how long I’ve been trying to get them to just call me Merlin, but then they presented me with this a few months ago and I could hardly say no, could I?”

Arthur nods as Merlin looks up again, meeting his gaze. There’s a soft smile on his face, one that Merlin isn’t quite sure what to make of as he quietly replies:

“Hmm. Looks good on you.”

Merlin makes a surprised noise and his eyes go wide, the flush on his cheeks deepening as Arthur laughs gently at him.

Arthur puts his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, his thumb brushing against the skin of his neck in a way that was slightly more than friendly, but Merlin doesn’t pull away, so Arthur leaves his hand there as he looks around the bustling camp.

His smile falls into something more sad, and Merlin frowns at him curiously:

“Arthur? What is it?”

Arthur shakes his head slightly, not looking back at Merlin as he replies, almost whispering:

“Nothing. It’s just, last time I was this far into a Druid camp... I did terrible things. Look at this place, how could I ever have believed that magic was evil? It’s beautiful here.”

Merlin’s frown deepens, but before he can reply, a small hand tugs at Arthur’s sleeve, and the two of them look down suddenly to see one of the boys from before. He wore a confused expression, and whispered, as if he knew this was meant to be a secret conversation:

“What terrible things did you do, Mr King Sir?”

Merlin takes in a quiet gasp and widens his eyes, but before he can tell him off or lie, Arthur squeezes his shoulder, and crouches down in front of the child.

Arthur gives the boy a smile, and takes his hands, quietly saying:

“Well. When I was young, I was taught some things that are wrong, I didn’t question them, and because of that I did some really bad things. I thought I was being a good person, but actually I was being a bad person because I didn’t do my own research, and I didn’t know any better. But then I started learning how to be better, and now I do everything in my power to be an actual good person.-”

Arthur looks up at Merlin with a small smile on his face, before looking back down to the boy, who is hanging on to his every word:

“-Your Emrys is helping me with that. You see, he’s the best person I’ve ever met, and he’s helping me be more like him.”

Arthur resists the urge to look back at Merlin as he feels a firm, but shaky hand on his back, and instead looks at the child as he thinks over Arthur’s words. His face breaks into a grin, and Arthur returns the smile as the boy says:

“He’s the best isn’t he? I wanna be like him when I grow up!”

Arthur ruffles his hair, and replies quietly:

“Yeah kid, me too.”

The boy gives him a toothy grin, before running off once again, and Arthur lets out yet another breath he had been holding before standing up.

Merlin’s hand remains on his shoulder, and Arthur regrets meeting his gaze the moment he turns his head. But he also can’t rip his eyes away from the teary expression of awe and bewildered happiness on his face.

Merlin lets out a gentle laugh at Arthur’s apprehensive face before shaking his head, and looking back at him once again, this time amusement on his face:

“The best person you’ve ever met, huh?”

Arthur rolls his eyes and blushes deeply, pushing Merlin’s hand off his shoulder as he mumbles a flustered:

“Shut up, Merlin. I could hardly tell him the truth, could I?”

Merlin hums thoughtfully and replies with laughter in his voice:

“Hmm. That makes more sense, of course.”

Without waiting for Arthur’s reply, he grabs the King’s wrist and drags him towards a large tent in the corner of the clearing. Inside were two tables, one large, and one smaller and lower, both surrounded by benches.

Merlin directed them to bowls in the corner so they could wash their hands, before they sit at the larger of the two tables. Everyone over the ages of about fourteen joins them, the younger ones going to the smaller table.

Food appears, covering the surface, summoned from the cooking pots outside and the various food stores around the camp. Arthur tries to keep the wonderment off his face, but knows he failed miserably when he hears Merlin chuckle beside him. He punches Merlin’s leg under the table playfully, but that only makes him laugh harder.

He quietens when the man sat opposite Arthur stands:

“Today we have two honoured guests, our Lord Emrys, and the Once and Future King Arthur. We share our home, our food, and our welcome, for as long as they wish to stay. We raise our goblets to you, My Lords.”

At that, he raises his cup in the air, everyone else in the tent following him. Merlin smiles and nods at him, raising his own cup, and Arthur nervously copies his movements, comforted by Merlin’s reassuring hand on his knee.

With that, the Druid sits down, and conversation breaks out around the tent as everyone begins to eat.

Merlin handles most of the discussions, talking to everyone as if they were life long friends. Arthur is grateful for that, he answers any questions sent his way, asking a few polite ones in return, but Druid culture is so different to life in the city and Arthur doesn’t really know what he should be talking about.

Thankfully, the meal passes quickly, and after another announcement from the man Arthur now presumed was the leader here, the crowd dispersed, everything being cleared away with magic.

Not every Druid practiced sorcery, but they were clearly in a magic-heavy camp; Arthur could see it plain as day, everywhere he looked.

Merlin once again took Arthur’s wrist, leading him out into the sun. Usually, Arthur hated being led places, especially by the hand, but he found he didn’t quite mind it today. Whether it was because they were in Merlin’s domain, and Merlin was King here, or because of how nervous he was, or because of some other reason entirely, Arthur wasn’t sure, and frankly, he didn’t want to think too deeply about it.

This time, Merlin led them to another, smaller tent.

It had several comfortable looking chairs around a smallish circular table, which was covered in scrolls and parchments and old-looking books.

A few seconds later, they were joined by the Druid leader; he smiled softly at them and gestured for them to sit at the table. Merlin and Arthur sat next to each other, and the Druid kindly pretended not to notice them shuffling the chairs closer together.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur, Arthur having lost his nerves fairly early in the conversation. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that official meetings were his specialty, or maybe it was because Merlin’s hand once again found his knee, but stayed there this time. Who knows.

The Druid had introduced himself, and once more welcomed Arthur to the camp, before launching into explanations of the prophecies and destinies, and everyone’s roles in them.

Merlin knew most if it, and looked especially proud of himself when the Druid described in wonder how Merlin had changed the very fates of the Lady Morgana, Sir Mordred, and Arthur himself.

Arthur was definitely taken aback at that. Whilst Merlin had prattled on, making no sense, about his and Arthur’s destinies, he had never mentioned anyone else, and Arthur becomes increasingly glad he came here to sort it all out.

There were some bits that not even Merlin knew though. He wasn’t aware that the other knights, Guinevere, and Gaius featured in a few of the newer prophecies, and the Druid had an amused smile on his face when he admitted that he’d thought Merlin would have figured that out.

Arthur did laugh at him at that, and Merlin flushed before telling him:

“Shut up, or I’ll tell the others you said I was the best person you’ve ever met, and they’ll never let you live it down.”

Arthur narrows his eyes, and the Druid continues look at them in amusement as they bicker.

The meeting comes to an end just before dark, and Arthur thanks the Druid profusely, for welcoming him, and taking the time to go through everything thoroughly.

Another meal is had in the large tent, but when they leave this time, the clearing has been completely emptied. A large bonfire roars in the middle, and logs surround it, providing seating for everyone.

The evening is full of stories and music and magic, and Arthur once again finds himself wondering just how he thought any of this could be evil.

Even Merlin stands to lead a song. He moves around the clearing with yet another child sat sat on his hip, giggling as Merlin spins her around.

Arthur is surprised to learn that Merlin has a good voice, and stares in wonderment as he leads the melody as if it was what he was born to do. The rest of the Druids clap along, joining in loudly and harmonising and playing instruments in time with the tune.

When the song comes to a close, the crowd burst into cheers as Merlin looks back to Arthur, breathing deeply and cheeks flushed. The Warlock smiles widely as he settles the child back in her mother’s lap before walking back over to his seat, next to Arthur.

Arthur returns his wide grin with a soft smile of his own, and as the music continues around them, Merlin tilts his face in happy confusion:

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Arthur just shakes his head slightly, smiling slightly wider as he responds without missing a beat:

“You’re beautiful like this. And you have an exceptional voice.”

Merlin flushes in surprise and looks to his lap, quietly muttering:

“I wouldn’t know about that...”

Arthur doesn’t look away, huffing out a laugh before replying:

“I mean it, Merlin. You just look... happy. Like you belong here.-”

He does look away here, staring into the fire with a thoughtful, but slightly mournful look on his face as Merlin peers up at him, curious. Arthur continues, even quieter, before Merlin can question him:

“-You know, I wouldn’t be angry if you wanted to stay. Here, I mean. I know magic is legal in Camelot now, but you belong somewhere like this. I would never begrudge you a home like this Merlin.”

Merlin laughs quietly, and takes Arthur’s hand, holding it in his lap like it’s something precious (it is, at least it is to Merlin). Arthur looks back at him in surprise, but doesn’t pull away as Merlin replies, still smiling:

“Home isn’t a place, Arthur, and the Druids know that better than anyone. Home is... home is wherever the people you love are. You are my people, Arthur, you and the knights and Gwen and Morgana and Gaius. My home is wherever you are. No matter my magic or title or destiny; my home will always be where you are.”

Arthur doesn’t let the tears in his eyes fall, but he does squeeze Merlin’s hand, giving him a tender smile that's returned without hesitation.

With the exchanging of smiles that any onlooker would describe as loving, the conversation comes to an easy close, and they spend the rest of the evening hand in hand, smiling fondly at the antics around them.

It’s late when the festivities come to an end, and Arthur and Merlin are exhausted, struggling to hold back yawns as they’re shown to a tent that had been set up for them.

Their bags had been removed from the horses and left in there, and the floor was covered in various blankets and pillows. There was a small trunk, for them to store anything they wished to unpack, and a few candles were lit, filling the room with a soft golden light and pleasant smells.

Merlin charms the tent to be soundproof so they don’t have to worry about noise (he may be openly able to use magic, but the idiot was still rather clumsy, and prone to accidental bangs and crashes), before removing his crown carefully. His cloak and boots follow shortly, and they all go neatly into the trunk, before he starts organising a spot to sleep.

After a few minutes, he realises that Arthur hasn’t moved from his space by the entrance, and Merlin turns around to look at him questioningly. Arthur’s eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks deep in thought as he stares at the floor, fiddling with the hem of his tunic.

Merlin walks over, concerned, and takes one of Arthur’s hands into his own. Arthur looks up at him suddenly, broken free of his thoughts, and Merlin raises an eyebrow at him as he strokes his thumb across The King’s knuckles:

“What’s wrong, Arthur?”

Arthur looks into Merlin’s eyes searchingly, but seems to find what he’s looking for after only a moment, and smiles. Merlin tilts his head to prompt him, and Arthur takes his other hand, before softly speaking:

“You know, I used to find the idea of falling in love frightening.-”

Merlin takes in a subtle deep breath, but Arthur doesn’t notice as he shakes his head, huffing out a gentle laugh before continuing, looking somewhere over Merlin’s shoulder:

“-The possibility that someone could have that much control over me; that I would willingly give another person dominion over my heart, my soul, my... everything, was terrifying to me. But I find I’m not scared anymore.-”

He looks back at Merlin’s shocked face. Arthur looks an odd mix of disbelieving, and happy beyond words as he continues, confident that what he’s saying is right, for the first time in a long time:

“-Because it’s you, Merlin. It’s always been you. And how could I possibly find falling in love with you anything other than beautiful?”

Merlin gulps, seemingly searching Arthur’s face for any hint of a lie. When he finds nothing but sincerity, he launches himself forward, almost knocking Arthur to the floor.

He wraps his arms around the blonde’s shoulders tightly, burying a hand in his hair, and his face in the crook of his neck. Arthur huffs out a laugh as he wraps his arms around Merlin’s waist, running a soft hand up and down his back.

At Merlin’s muttered:

“I love you, Arthur, more than anything is this world. My magic, my everything, belongs to you.”

Arthur pulls back, smiling. He leans forward pressing his forehead against Merlin’s, and cups his cheek softly with his hand. They stare into the blue of each other’s eyes for a moment, not in any hurry to move the moment along, Arthur running his thumb over Merlin’s cheekbone, and Merlin carding his fingers through Arthur’s hair.

Arthur takes a deep breath, before whispering, so quietly it’s a miracle Merlin hears him:

“Can I kiss you?”

Merlin nods infinitesimally, and the two of them lean forward, meeting in the middle in a soft kiss that could only be described as tender, and full of love.

If the stars shine brighter, and the wind blows warmer, and the animals of the dark seem happier that night... well... it was spring... surely no one would notice (Arthur definitely noticed, but he sure as shit wasn’t going to point it out, in case Merlin stopped).

~

THE END!!

This is the first one I’ve written in aaaaages that didn’t involve a dizzy/exhausted/sick Merlin so... yay me?

I just really wanted to write something fluffy, where there were no high stakes. No huge battles, or angsty confessions or anything like that, just a soft love story.

I genuinely got no clue what I’ll write next. I do have a few drafts and ideas floating around, but let me know if you’re after anything specific, I live to please :)

Like always, you wanna write this up properly with paragraphs and fleshed out stuff, go for it, credit and tag me :)

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Blessings Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 祝福之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ This date was released on 28 April 2021 ]

In this desert, there are two legendary figures.

One is a young girl blessed by God, and the other is a bandit who strikes terror in people.

God will bestow the most valuable riches in the world to the young girl in the future, which makes everyone want to own her for themselves.

There is only one person who has absolutely no interest in her -

The bandit who has already seized all the gold, silver and jewels.

-

On this gloomy night, scorching heat seems to cover every inch of land.

A crowd is packed into the cage of a horse-drawn carriage. Lowering my head, I tighten the scarf on my neck.

All of a sudden, the carriage halts outside a large gate.

Bodyguard: We want to make a transaction with your chief, and we guarantee that you'd be satisfied. 

Along with the gradual opening of the gate, what enters my vision is a high wall made of clay, and what looks to be a heavy guarded campground.

The carriage passes through a long sheltered corridor, halting in front of a large bonfire. After that, the slave owner pulls us down from the carriage roughly.

The slave owner before me is someone who commands great respect, and relies on human trafficking to earn huge amounts of money.

Slave owner: Gavin, I’ll go straight to the point.

Hearing the rumoured name, I lift my head towards the man seated on a chair.

Amber eyes reflect the flickering flames, shrouding a strong, dangerous aura.

He leans against the back of the chair, his taut clothes drawing the outline of his figure, revealing faintly discernible muscles.

He gives me a cold glance, then shifts his somewhat arrogant gaze away.

...this person is Gavin.

In this land, there’s nobody who doesn’t know him -

It’s been said that he has a magic carpet that can go up to heaven and down to Hades. It’s also been said that it’s simply a guise for his extraordinary power of wind control.

Not only that. For many years, he’s been stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, and is a thorn that can’t be pulled out from the hearts of the powerful.

Just as I’m thinking about this, the slave owner tears down my scarf, gripping my neck forcefully.

Slave owner: See this mark? She’s MC, the young girl blessed by God.

Young girl blessed by God?

Watching the desperate slave owner and Gavin in front of him, I force out a laugh.

Ten years ago, this inborn mark was bestowed meaning by a well-known wizard -

Wizard (in a flashback): Ten years later, our God will give her the most valuable riches.

Since then, I became the “treasure map” that everyone wanted, leading a life of being continuously captured and escaping.

Slave owner: Gavin, as long as you leave me alone in the future, she belongs to you.

Only the quiet sound of the burning bonfire is in the air, filled with a great sense of oppression.

Supporting his head with his right hand, he appears to turn a deaf ear to what the slave owner said.

Slave owner: Ten days later, the blessings will manifest! Riches might appear in an unending stream, and by then, you can do whatever you want!

Gavin: You travelled all the way here... to make me let you go?

A chilly wind suddenly disperses the sultriness of the surroundings. His slightly narrowed eyes are a contrast to the flames behind him, not at all masking his annoyance and derision.

The powerful aura assaults the senses, and the tips of my toes subconsciously shift backwards.

The reason why I allowed myself to be captured by the slave owner was to beat him at his own game, and get close to Gavin. But would I really be able to obtain information from such a powerful man?

A sense of unease surfaces, but I quickly suppress it.

The king said that as long as I helped him get rid of Gavin, I could obtain eternal freedom -

I have to give it a try.

Moonlight and flames intertwine and are reflected on Gavin’s face. Alarm surfaces on the slave owner’s face.

With forced hearty laughter, he tosses me aside. Respectfully, he fills Gavin’s cup to the brim with wine.

Slave owner: I’m sincerely here to do business with you.

Gavin glances at the wine glass by the side. With a curl of his lips, he picks up the glass, swaying it slowly.

He lowers his head and lifts his eyes slightly, the light in his pupils distinct.

But in the next second, he turns his wrist. The strong scent of alcohol diffuses in an instant.

Gavin: This wine is a little dirty. When you walked through this gate, you should have known what would happen.

The moment Gavin speaks, his men immediately surround the slave owner and his group. 

Slave owner: ...you! Doing this just means both sides lose!

The corners of Gavin’s lips arch upwards, and there are hints of arrogance in his eyes.

Gavin: You seem to have forgotten one fact. I won’t lose.

After the final drop of wine slides off the glass, he releases his hand, and the wine glass strikes the table.

Along with a muffled sound, Gavin brandishes a scimitar and waves it at the feudal lord.

[Note] A scimitar is a short sword with a curved blade that broadens towards the point :>

The sharp blade reflects cold light as it brushes the nape of the slave owner’s neck. Gavin keeps his eyes fixed steadily behind the slave owner.

Gavin: Remember this. I never have to get the things I want through transactions. Get out of my campground.

The feudal lord doesn’t care about anything else, tumbling and stumbling out of the gate along with the bodyguard.

Peace is restored to the campground. A row of us are unshackled one after the other.

After attaining freedom, continuous sounds of appreciation can be heard from the crowd. However, I secretly glance at Gavin, who is afar off.

When everyone else has left, I brisk walk over to him.

MC: My name is MC. Gavin, I want to join you all!

The clamour suddenly stills. Only Gavin lifts his head unaffectedly.

Gavin: Why?

MC: Once I leave this place, I’d just get captured again. Everyone says that you’re the most powerful and most incredible person in the world, so this would be the safest place...

Gavin: This place isn’t a shelter. And I have no need to guarantee your safety.

Gavin interrupts me, his gaze focused on the rag used to wipe the blood off the blade’s tip.

MC: I won’t freeload. If my blessings manifest, I can give it all to you!

Gavin shoots a sharp gaze at me, lingering on my neck briefly before shifting it away.

Gavin: The root of your “so-called” blessings is merely empty talk.

MC: But that wizard said...

Gavin: So what if he’s a wizard? I’ve never pursued such illusory things. Such blessings might simply be a joke for the greedy. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t seem useful to my campground. So, MC, I don’t need you.

Gavin’s words nail me in place. He looks at me directly, and I can tell from his eyes that he has absolutely no regard for the blessings, as well as my presence.

For so many years, I’ve been a treasure map in the hearts of people, and a glittering treasure.

But in his eyes, it’s as though I’m not a young girl who was blessed by God. I’m simply MC.

Even if the prophecy said that the riches would manifest ten years later, those who are greedy would think that might just be the beginning, which is why everyone has been coveting this fantastic wealth.

But nobody has ever been like Gavin, telling me that it could be false.

My heart involuntarily quivers, as though something that I’ve always firmly believed in is beginning to stir. 

I take a deep breath, brushing away the restlessness in my heart.

Whether or not I’m taking action according to plan, staying here is still the best choice.

I definitely have to stay.

MC: I’m not useless. Since young, I often get hurt while running away, so I’m very good at tending to wounds! Please give me a chance. I can prove myself!

He doesn’t speak, and simply looks at me quietly. Those amber eyes are deep with flittering light, as though he can see through me in an instant.

I clench my fists secretly, trying my best to look natural.

After an oppressive silence, he lifts his chin slightly. One of his men walks to me.

-

After I’ve finished bandaging all the injured people in the campground, I look at Gavin sincerely.

Gavin: Since you want to stay here so badly, I won’t stop you.

MC: Thank you. I just want to stay alive.

Those amber eyes narrow slightly when he hears this. Only the spluttering sounds of the burning wood remain in the air.

Gavin: In order to stay alive, you don’t care about anything else?

MC: ...yes.

All of a sudden, rapid footsteps can be heard from the gate. One of Gavin’s men leans over to him, and says something that I can’t hear.

Gavin glances at me, an unreadable smile flashing across his eyes. I stand in place, my heart feeling prickly.

Gavin: Go ahead. There aren’t any “outsiders” here.

The man nods respectfully. Straightening up, he faces the crowd.

Man: The Oasis Flower Garden that the new king ordered to be constructed has been completed ahead of schedule. The location of the coronation ceremony has been changed to the flower garden. Various neighbouring countries have also prepared countless treasures, and will be presenting them during the coronation ceremony.

After a moment of silence, a ray of sharp light flashes in Gavin’s eyes.

Gavin: Let’s go to the flower garden.

MC: Hang on, you’re going to steal the king’s objects?

Hearing information regarding the king, I can’t help but exclaim softly.

Gavin doesn’t seem to care about important information being disclosed, which makes me feel even more uneasy.

Is he very assured about his own plan, or is he suspicious of me, and deliberately wants to see my reaction?

Gavin: Is there a problem?

MC: ...n-no.

Gavin: Since the plan has been changed, we need to check out the flower garden beforehand. Those who know how to draw maps, step out.

His men look around at each other, none of them volunteering to step out. Looking at the silent surroundings, a risky idea formulates in my mind.

If I’m able to check out the area with them, I could find an opportune moment to tip the king off.

With this thought in mind, I take a step forward.

MC: ...I can. I’m very attuned to directions. As long as I walk through it once, I can remember everything.

In order to prove my point, I pick up a twig and draw the path I took earlier in the sand.

When I’ve finished drawing the details of the campground, the men reveal shocked expressions.

A sense of inquisitiveness even appears in Gavin’s eyes.

Gavin: When the time comes, I’ll send someone to the flower garden with you. But this place has never limited anyone’s freedom. You can leave whenever you want.

Gavin’s words seem indicate something. After speaking, he turns around and leaves. Meanwhile, my heart, which had been hanging in the air, is finally set down.

-

I’m officially responsible for the logistics work in the campground.

Based on my observations over the past two days, Gavin would head out with his men, then return from a rewarding journey.

He distributes the money strictly, ensuring that they are given out fairly to those who are in need and poverty-stricken.

Today, the night has just set in. As usual, Gavin returns with his troop.

He stands among the crowd calmly, but his brows furrow at certain times. Realising something, I carry the medical kit and walk towards him.

MC: Gavin, did you get hurt?

Gavin: I'm fine. Go help the others.

MC: In that case, pull open your clothes and let me have a look.

Gavin: ...

MC: Many people who need assistance are waiting for you. If you’re really injured, I could help to heal your wound much more quickly.

After giving me a deep look, he finally sits down, pulling open his clothes.

Underneath his clothes, aside from wounds oozing with blood, I can also see various scars.

MC: Some wounds wouldn’t leave scars if tended to properly.

Gavin: I don’t have the time to tend to every single wound.

He speaks casually, as though these scars are unrelated to him.

Seeing him like this, the guilt deep in my heart seems to tear me apart indistinctly.

Perhaps these mottled wounds have given hope and direction to countless people.

With no idea how to face such emotions, I simply tend to his wounds carefully.

MC: You’ve worked hard.

Gavin: It isn’t hard work. Life is meant to be difficult.

His voice is calm. I can sense that his somewhat scrutinising gaze is focused on me.

But I don’t have the courage to lift my head.

-

Eventually, the people in the campground start to get used to me tending to their wounds, including Gavin.

We’re much more familiar with each other as compared to a few days ago. Occasionally, we’d even engage in conversation.

MC: ...don’t you have a magic carpet or something? Why are your injuries so serious this time?

Gavin: There was a trap.

MC: They obviously did bad things, but not only did they not feel guilty, but also schemed against you?

Gavin: My life is worth a lot of money to many people.

Gavin speaks lightly, and a disdainful smile appears on his lips.

Gavin: It doesn’t matter. They won’t succeed.

I purse my lips, subconsciously exerting less force.

MC: Please be more careful next time, and don’t add on to my workload.

Being directly glared at by me, Gavin feels a little uneasy, his eyes subconsciously averting to the side.

Gavin: ...I’ll do my best.

Over the next few days, he truly doesn’t get injured again. But because of this, I have fewer opportunities to meet him.

For some inexplicable reason, I start finding all sorts of reasons to meet Gavin -

Making sweet snacks, handing over supplies... I use everything that can create a connection between us.

Maybe it’s just a misperception, but I can always capture a subtle emotion in his eyes.

Those nice-looking eyes affect my heart involuntarily.

Until one day, when he returns and walks past me, straight towards his room. I hurriedly follow behind him, burrowing sideways through the doors that are about to close.

MC: Why did you start avoiding me once you returned? Did you get hurt!

Gavin: ...no.

Without a word, I hurriedly sweep my eyes over Gavin. When I catch sight of the traces of blood on his waist, I lift my head to glare at him.

Gavin: ...

Under my gaze, he averts his eyes a little awkwardly. 

Gavin: [totally not lying] Cough. Oh, turns out I got injured. I just realised. I’ll have to trouble you to tend to it.

Before I even open my mouth, he hurriedly stifles the words I’m about to say.

I release a sigh, reaching out to open the medical kit. I suddenly think of something.

MC: I heard that a child hit you with a stone yesterday?

Gavin: It’s just a trivial matter.

MC: That’s not what I’m referring to... you probably don’t feel good, do you. You’re obviously helping them, but you’re treated as a bad person.

Gavin: It’s very normal for me to be treated as a bad person.

MC: But you aren’t one!

After blurting this out, I lower my eyes unnaturally.

I suddenly feel warm breaths. Lifting my head, my vision is overtaken by him.

Gavin: Then what am I?

MC: I... just think that you’ve done so many good things, and shouldn’t be misunderstood.

[Note] If I were the writer, I'd make MC say: “You’re my boyfriend from another universe where you’re a sexy special agent from STF and we go through lots of angst together like the time you left me alone in the Ferris wheel during that one date.” And then I’d get fired.

A peculiar emotion flashes in his eyes. He doesn’t continue, and he stares out the window.

Gavin: Pack up your things later. You’re heading out tonight.

Realising that he’s referring to checking out the flower garden, I’m stunned for a moment.

It seems that these relaxed and comfortable days have made me forget my goal from the beginning.

-

When I return to the central area of the campground, I discover that Gavin is standing there.

MC: Didn't you say that you’d be sending someone to the flower garden with me?

Gavin: I changed my mind.

A flying carpet hovers in front of me, leaving me dumbfounded on the spot.

Gavin: Scared?

MC: I-it’s fine. It’s just that I’ve never seen a magic carpet, and I don't know...

Before I finish speaking, my feet are off the ground as Gavin takes me into his arms.

It’s as though the scorching heat of his fingertips are able to melt me. Only the sounds of the wind and my heartbeat remain in the entire world.

Gavin: There’s no need to overthink. Just be careful not to fall off.

Gavin leaps up, sitting steadily on the carpet.

With my face red, I prepare to shift away from him. The carpet soars towards the sky, and the frightening sense of weightlessness makes me involuntarily grab onto his waist.

MC: Hang on! Could you let me sit properly before flying!

What I get in response is a soft chuckle, carrying with it some mischievousness.

Gavin: If you don’t want to fall off, hold tight.

After the wind rustles at my ear for a long time, we finally descend at the destination. Without even taking a few steps, I suddenly hear the sound of disciplined footsteps in the vicinity.

At the same time when I turn to Gavin in a panic, he pulls me behind a stone pillar nearby.

The stone pillar isn’t large, and we’re forced to stick together.

Because we’re pressed so closely together, his breath is akin to a gentle feather, brushing my face.

The itch causes me to tremble involuntarily. Gavin hurriedly reaches out to wrap me in his arms.

Gavin: Don’t move.

A soft command drifts to my ear, and I can only nod stiffly.

When the nearby footsteps disappear, I release a breath and prepare to leave. However, he turns around, pressing me against the stone pillar.

Gavin: Are you deliberately trying to get discovered?

MC: Of course... not! It’s because what you did was very ticklish!

I retort softly. In order to prove my point, I stick close to him, vigorously inhaling and exhaling through my nose.

MC: You find it ticklish too, don’t you!

In an instant, our breaths seem to intertwine, and an inexplicable heat secretly climbs up the back of my ears.

Gavin averts his eyes unnaturally, and he releases the hands propped on the wall.

Gavin: Let’s go. There isn’t much time left.

Beneath the clear and tender moonlight, the gentle night breeze and his reddened ears are especially obvious.

Fortunately, the second half goes smoothly. We walk around the flower garden meticulously before returning to the campground. 

The moment my feet stand steadily on the ground, I use the excuse of drawing the map to run swiftly back into my room.

Staring at the blank sheet of paper, the pen in my hand doesn’t descend for a very long time.

...am I really going to continue with this?

[Note] Imagine if Gavin actually just wanted to go on a date with MC but didn’t know how to broach the topic because he’s Awkward™ so he decided to take her on a romantic stroll by “chEcKinG out tHE FlOwEr GarDEn”

-

Ever since returning from the flower garden, I especially cherish the few days I have left of this peaceful life.

While chatting with the men, I unintentionally learnt that all of them used to be bodyguards in the palace. And Gavin was their leader.

As for why they became bandits... looking at their solemn expressions, I didn’t continue probing.

I decide to focus all my energy on the map, treating it as a small “atonement”.

But my progress is even slower than imagined, and I only manage to complete it the day before the operation.

Stepping outside with the map, I see a familiar figure on the roof.

Struck with an idea, I shift a ladder over and prepare to climb up. However, because it isn’t tall enough, I end up pausing awkwardly mid-air.

MC: ...

Just when I’m wondering if I should call out to Gavin, the flying carpet suddenly appears near my feet.

After a moment of hesitation, I climb onto it in a sorry state. Gavin’s figure gradually appears in my vision.

Illuminated by the moonlight, he props himself up indolently, indistinct arches appearing at the corners of his lips.

MC: The map has been drawn.

Gavin: You’ve worked hard.

Just as I’m about to turn around to leave, the sky filled with stars enters my eyes. The stars sparkle in succession.

MC: ...could I stay here for a little longer?

Gavin: Here, nobody can meddle with you. You're free to do whatever you want.

Free... Hearing this term subconsciously makes me feel startled. In my peripheral vision, a shooting star soars past the sky.

MC: Ah, a star is falling!

I’m pleasantly surprised by the sight I’ve never seen before, but realise that Gavin’s brows are tightly knit.

MC: You don’t seem to want to see this sight?

He looks at me, his shining golden eyes turning a little dim.

MC: ...it’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it. After all, everyone has secrets they aren’t willing to share.

Gavin: Secrets?

MC: Mm. That’s why life is so tough. It’s because secrets are difficult to talk about, yet they refuse to release their grip.

Gavin: I don’t have any secrets.

Gavin says this bluntly, looking at me.

Gavin: That shooting star earlier has a lot of meaning behind it.

The lights and shadows in Gavin’s eyes stir, leaving me unable to identify the emotions within them.

After a moment of silence, his voice drifts to my ear again.

Gavin: An elder once told me that no matter what one does, the stars are able to see it. But if a shooting star were to appear in the sky, it meant that it faded away because it saw too much evil.

Even though his tone doesn’t change much, I can vaguely sense something.

Gavin: Which is why I changed from leader of the bodyguards to a bandit.

I’m stunned for a moment. Gavin turns his head, looking at me.

Gavin: What? You thought I’d hide it?

MC: I...

Gavin: This isn’t a secret. The people here have never avoided the past.

MC: Why?

Gavin: There isn't a special reason. I once thought that as a leader, I’d have more power to uphold justice. Afterwards, a choice to sacrifice a few hundred lives to save a nobleman appeared before me.

MC: Which side did you pick?

Gavin: No matter the side, I wanted to save them all.

He stares afar off, a scorching colour flashing in his eyes. The wind seems to respond to him, causing leaves to rustle.

Gavin: I won't let a single life vanish in front of me. But many people threatened me using my capacity as a leader. Which is why I no longer wanted that title. I just want to be Gavin, and do the things I genuinely want to do.

In the night breeze, the corners of his lips turn upwards. Pride and resoluteness are transparent in his eyes.

My heart quivers. Fragments of the past few days involuntarily surface before my eyes -

How he returned triumphantly with loot, along with wounds of varying sizes.

How he often places somewhat simple and crude “thank you gifts” in front of the gate of the campground.

At first, I thought these rumours of Gavin were just false compliments. But after seeing them for myself, I am fully convinced -

Gavin is worthy of all the praise.

Thinking about this, my heart seems to be tugged roughly by something.

MC: If only I had met you earlier. That way, I wouldn’t just be the young girl who was blessed by God, and...

I suddenly pause, my honest thoughts stuck in my throat.

Gavin: Wouldn’t what?

Those amber eyes watch me quietly, as though waiting for what’s weighing on my mind to pour out in torrents.

MC: You’ll be heading out tomorrow, so rest early. If possible, I hope the stars can see everything I do, and that they wouldn't fall.

I control the stinging sensation in my eyes, showing my sincerest smile.

He seems to be stirred. The brilliant starlight reflects in his eyes, and my figure seems to become clearer.

But my vision gradually turns blurry, as though something is about to fall.

-

A faint light appears from afar. Holding the letter that I spent a night writing, I walk to Gavin’s door.

MC: Sorry. I think some words can’t be said in person. If there’s another chance, perhaps we could... get to know each other afresh.

Watching as the letter disappears at the other end, I feel a weight being lifted off me as I walk out of the gate.

-

Tonight is the king’s coronation ceremony.

There aren’t any celebratory gifts from the neighbouring countries. There aren’t any flatteries from imperial concubines or ministers. There are only soldiers hiding in the flowering shrubs...

And me, who is pressed onto the floor.

King: Did you think that I didn’t plant other spies aside from you?

The king eats grapes indolently, strong distaste flashing in his eyes.

MC: ...

King: As my slave for so many years, you should know the consequences of betrayal.

I couldn’t care less about the king’s threats. All that’s in my heart is worry.

Worry that Gavin didn’t see my letter. Worry that he’d follow the plan and come to the flower garden, and into the king’s ambush.

Just a while ago, I admitted everything in the letter -

According to my understanding of the king, he would definitely deploy forces in the flower garden to guarantee his safety during the ceremony.

It also explains why the palace is akin to an empty city, and can be easily infiltrated.

A sizeable amount of wealth fleeced from the common folk is in the treasury. If they could be returned to their original owners, it should lighten much of their burden.

This is the only thing I can do as compensation.

With this thought in mind, I look up at the brilliant sky-filled sky. My mind doesn’t hold back, and specks of time spent together with Gavin courses through it.

I take a deep breath, doing my best to remember this starry sky forever, leaving behind no regrets.

All of a sudden, a cold wind rolls up beside me. At the edge of my vision, a figure appears along with the wind.

The faraway figure gradually becomes clearer. Gavin is standing on the flying carpet, his expression so gloomy that it’s terrifying.

MC: Gavin, what are you doing here?! Leave quickly, there’s an ambush here!

Right after I finish speaking, arrows fly towards Gavin in succession, but they’re all rolled together by the gale in an instant.

Gavin looks down, his eyes filled with a fury which has reached its limits.

Gavin: Did you think about the consequences of touching one of my people?

King: Men, take him down!

Realising that arrows are ineffective, the bodyguards brandish long swords, closing in on me.

A gentle wind protects me. At the same time, a familiar voice drifts from behind.

Gavin: Hold tight.

He kicks away the person who was restraining me, then carries me on his shoulder.

I subconsciously struggle, but realise that I’m gripped tightly by him, as though he’s telling me -

That he’s angry.

Twisting my head to peer at his expression, I can only see the distinct outline of the side of his face from my periphery.

After the flying carpet leaves the ground, a fierce wind suddenly springs out of the flower garden.

In an instant, the magnificent flower garden turns into a mess. The king dangles upside down from a sculpture, and looks to be in a huge predicament.

With a cold “hmph”, Gavin soars faraway, the flower garden behind him turning smaller and smaller.

MC: Gavin, could you put me down... I’m already safe.

He ignores me, and the rustling wind is the only thing left in the surroundings.

MC: Sorry... I lied to you.

Gavin: I already knew from the start.

He continues staring out, responding coldly.

MC: In that case, why did you still come here?! I already told you in the letter not to...

Gavin: Because I want to bring you back.

MC: Why...?

Gavin: Since you joined us, you can’t leave that easily.

I release a resigned sigh, muttering softly.

MC: You clearly said that I could leave whenever I wanted to.

Gavin: You believe a bandit’s promise?

MC: You...!

Not knowing what to say, a soft chuckle drifts from behind me.

He exerts slight pressure, as though verifying something. Then, he sets me down, drawing me into his arms. 

MC: I even thought you’d keep carrying me on your shoulder and not let go.

Gavin: I actually wouldn’t mind. But I still prefer this.

While saying this, he tightens both arms around my waist.

A sense of security instantly charges into my heart, but it also accidentally tears open the guilt that I've buried in the depths of my heart...

MC: Gavin, you had your suspicions about me from very early on, didn’t you.

Gavin: I had my suspicions at the start. But afterwards, I realised it was unnecessary. Because I knew that you wouldn’t harm me.

His gaze is brilliant as he looks at me, mixed with an unquestionable emotion.

MC: [blushing] Why do you keep looking at me like that?

Gavin: I can’t do that?

MC: [blushing] Of course you can’t. You can’t get used to being a bandit and do whatever you want...

I retort indignantly, my face red as I avert my eyes.

Suddenly, a scorching hand covers my face, turning my face back forcefully.

Gavin: You’re right. I’m used to being a bandit and doing whatever I want to. So, MC, let me take a good look at you.

He carefully sweeps his eyes over me. As I gradually come to my senses, I realise that he’s checking to see if I’m injured.

MC: Gavin, I’m not hurt.

Seeing the concern in his eyes, my heart feels a stinging sensation. No one has ever cared about me like this before.

Even though he knew that I didn’t have good intentions from the beginning, he didn’t blame me at all.

-

The familiar campground once again enters my vision. From afar, I see that everyone’s tidying up boxes filled with treasures.

MC: Did they go to the palace?

Gavin: Mm. I had to bring you back, so I let them go there by themselves. After sorting out the inventory, they will return the items to their original owners.

MC: In that case... could we head to the roof for a while? Today’s also the day my blessings are manifested. Whether it’s real or not, it’d be revealed very soon.

In a moment, we land on the roof. My heart uncontrollably turns anxious.

Gavin: The most valuable riches in the world?

Gavin stands beside me quietly, stretching out his hand.

The full moon hangs overhead, and the night breeze blows gently.

In an instant, the pearls and jewels in the boxes on the ground suddenly fill the night sky, glistening underneath the moonlight.

Countless silver coins and jewels soak in the moonlight, setting a contrast to the flickering stars, as though they are newborn stars.

Gavin: Are these your blessings?

Gavin turns around to face me. All the light in the world seem to be stored in those amber eyes.

Gavin: If you’re wondering about the meaning behind these blessings, let me shoulder it with you. Your fate will not be directed by anyone. MC, you can just be MC. I don’t care if you’ve been blessed by God. What I want is you.

The starry sky casts a faint halo over Gavin, becoming the most dazzling colour in my eyes.

My world seems to be shining into a ray of light, and the interlaced paths of what lies ahead in the future turn clear and bright.

All of a sudden, I realise something with certainty -

This is just the beginning. He will bring me along to be acquainted anew with this beautiful world.

A gentle gust breezes past, and the lower hem of Gavin’s clothes flutters.

His lips move slightly, and his voice burrows into my ears along with the wind.

Gavin: All of the blessings for you - I’ll fulfil them myself.

-

🍷 MOMENTS 🍷

Gavin’s Post: Aside from two plane tickets, I also received a guidebook on surviving in the open country.

MC: Because most of this trip will be in the open country, we have to do our homework in advance!

Gavin: When it comes to safety, there’s nothing to worry about with me around.

-

Gavin’s Post: Aside from two plane tickets, I also received a guidebook on surviving outdoors.

MC: Are you surprised? The first phase of the trip is starting!

Gavin: Great. In that case, leave the rest of the arrangements to me.

-

Gavin’s Post: Aside from two plane tickets, I also received a guidebook on surviving outdoors.

MC: I felt that you’ve been working really hard lately, so I wanted to take you to a faraway place to relax~

Gavin: Actually, it’s enough that you’re around.

🍷 Phone calls: First l Second

🍷 More translated dates: here

🍷 Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

[psalmonesermons]

If God has set eternity in the human heart, then how should we live?

The message below takes 4 minutes to read.

When we consider the meaning and purpose of our life, it is important to put our lives in the context of eternity. The Preacher (aka King Solomon) says in Ecclesiastes 3:11 that God ‘has set eternity in our hearts’, which I take to mean that, God has given we humans an awareness/consciousness that there is something beyond our natural lives.

An awareness that there is someone and something that is beyond our understanding of time.

Eternity represents a fork in the road, when we are trying to fathom out, just exactly what is the meaning or purpose of our life. Are you living for time, or for eternity?

If we have taken the Jesus fork on the road, then perhaps today might be a fitting time to revise our bucket lists but this time in the light of eternity.

So what is on your personal bucket list today? A bucket list, as you know, is a list of all the main things we want to do before we die i.e. before we kick the bucket! Here are the most popular types of items on most peoples' bucket list

To go somewhere they have never been

To do something they have never done

To do something exciting/dangerous/extravagant perhaps just one time in your life.

This raises the question what can we take from this life into the next?

Here is what Jesus said in Matthew 6:19 “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. 20 But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.

So, what does this mean?

So, what treasure we can store up in heaven?

Here is what the Apostle Paul said in the key passage about the judgement of believers works.

1 Corinthians 3:10 According to the grace of God, which is given unto me, as a wise Master Builder, I have laid the foundation, and another buildeth thereon. But let every man take heed how he buildeth thereupon.

Paul likened the Christian life to constructing a building and tells us we must build carefully.

11 For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ.

For every one of us

12 Now if any man builds upon this foundation gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stubble. Our works not our salvation. In your life are you building a palace or a mud hut? [1]

13 Every man's work shall be made manifest: for the day shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire; and the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is. Gold, Silver and Precious Stones are fireproof but not Wood, Hay and Stubble.

We will all bring our big bag of works to the bema (platform) judgement.

14 If any man's work abides which he hath built thereupon, he shall receive a reward.

The various crowns to cast at Jesus’ feet.

15 If any man's work shall be burned, he shall suffer loss: but he himself shall be saved; yet so as by fire. Clearly this is talking about loss of reward not loss of salvation.

The fire will differentiate between work we have done in the flesh (our own ideas, our own power) and work we have done by the Spirit (God’s ideas and God’s power).

So, in closing here are some things to consider for our spiritual bucket lists in the light of eternity. Here are some ideas of the type of thing that might bring you gold, silver, and precious stones in heaven.

At this stage I believe this could be an opportunity in which God wants to communicate with each one of us personally today, so be open to what the Lord might be saying to you personally.

1] Go somewhere for God you have never been, maybe a short-term mission Testimony-Brazil, Tanzania-made many friends who still are today!

2] Do something for God you have never done before, do something creative write something, sing something, paint something, give something, pray something, bless someone Use all your God-given creative talents to full effect.

3] Do something exciting/dangerous/extravagant for God, perhaps just this one time in your life, share the Gospel message, tell a friend or neighbour about your faith, be a good Samaritan to someone in need.

Or what about the wonderful woman who poured the alabaster box of costly perfume on Jesus’ feet? She did not store up her treasure on earth.

Here is her story, in

Luke 7:37 And, behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster box of ointment,38 And stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment.

Those present had doubts and concerns about the woman, but Jesus praised her, whoever has much forgiven, loves much. What about you?

Prayer

Father God, we ask you in Jesus’ name, to teach us how to live and to love in the light of eternity. Show us all the tasks and opportunities of that are from you which will produce treasure in heaven. Show us what is on your list for me specifically and help me to live out and complete your plan (bucket list) for my life.

Amen

[1] Roger Price CCF Tapes BBS 023

[zerogate]

Plunder & child murder in the OT

[Marcionites] ... assumed, like other Christians, that if the testaments came from a single deity, there should be a theological continuity between them. If Jesus was the Christ of the creator, their instructions for advancing the kingdom should have agreed. Yet this was not the case.

In the one passage, Jesus invited his disciples to accept voluntary poverty and full dependence upon god as they sought to inaugurate the kingdom. In Exodus, by contrast, the creator ordered the Hebrews to weigh themselves down with gold, silver, and clothing so they could decorate his tabernacle in the desert.

Marcionites concluded that the creator’s kingdom is material, based on worldly wealth, whereas Christ’s was immaterial, based on almsgiving and voluntary self-limitation. But it was not the materialism of the creator that bothered Marcion(ites) as much as the command openly to defraud the Egyptians. In short, the creator commanded his people to get rich off the spoils of their enemies—many of whom had perished in the preceding plagues. Taking such spoils, even if they were given “voluntarily” and on the spur of the moment, was a form of robbery typical of plundering.

An element of deceit is highlighted by the fact that Moses spoke with the Israelites “in secret,” urging them to ask their neighbors for expensive items (Exod 11:2). Little did these neighbors know that what was “borrowed” would never be returned. Marcion’s chief criticism was that the creator “commanded the theft (fraudem) of silver and gold.” This command contradicted one of the Ten Commandments (“do not steal,” Exod 20:15), widely taken to exemplify basic morality even today. Far from upholding this morality, the creator ordered his servants to engage in serious robbery—what amounted to pillage. These were immoral acts, and the creator who ordered them could only have, according to Marcion, a corrupt character.

[...]

Another antithesis recorded in the Adamantius went as follows: “The prophet of the god of generation told a bear to come out of a thicket and devour the children who met him, but the good Lord says, ‘Let the children come to me, for of such is the kingdom of heaven” (Evangelion 18:16). Tertullian also recorded this contrast: “Christ loves the little children, teaching that those who always wish to be great should become such as these. But the creator launched bears against young boys, taking vengeance for their insult suffered by the prophet Elisha.”

To explain: Marcion(ites) appealed to the story in Jewish scripture where Elisha the prophet, while traveling to the city of Bethel, was met by young children who mocked his baldness. The prophet responded by cursing the children in the name of the creator. The creator immediately fulfilled the curse by sending two bears against the children who were immediately mauled (2 Kings 2:23–24).

It is tempting to soft-peddle the troubling details of this story. According to the Septuagint, Elisha cursed not wily teenage toughs, but “small children” (paidaria mikra). He cursed not just two or three of these children but “forty-two” of them— all of whom were gored. He cursed them not for a repeated offense, but for a single occurrence of jesting, and for a relatively minor infraction— for exposing the prophet’s baldness. Consequently, Elisha’s cursing of the children indicates serious moral flaws in both his character and the character of the being he represented— the creator.

There were, of course, attempts to mitigate the morally problematic nature of the story. One ancient commentator blamed the parents of the children for bad childrearing, but this hardly makes up for child murder. Attempts are made in the modern period to make the children’s insult more cutting— to say that baldness was a sign of Elisha’s prophetic office or indicative of leprosy. But even if these speculations proved convincing, Elisha’s curse still lies beyond the moral pale.

For Marcion(ites), the angry, cursing prophet represented the character of the one who sent him— the creator. The anger of the creator and his jealous need to retaliate has already been discussed. In the bear attack episode, it was the creator who perpetrated the crime, for it is he who sent the bears against the children. These bears quite literally tore the children apart. The Greek verb at play (anerrēxan) expresses incredible violence. It can be used to describe breaking through a wall, or of a lion ripping open a carcass. Etymologically, the verb means “break up,” and one can almost hear the sound of the children’s bones cracked by the bears’ teeth— though their screams go unmentioned. Far from showing any compassion, the cursing prophet continued his journey as if nothing had even happened.

[...]

Elisha cursed in the name of the creator. This is significant, for as we shall see in Chapter 7, the creator is characterized by cursing. A curse in his name is duly effective. Indeed, the creator had already warned the Israelites by adding curses to his covenant. If Israel did not follow his laws, the creator would send “wild animals” against them who would bereave them of family members by devouring them (Lev 26:22). As the creator himself put it: “I will send the teeth of beasts!” (Deut 32:24).

Marcion opposed the curse against the children to what occurs in the gospel. Votaries of Jesus brought infants and small children to him so that he could bless them. When his disciples tried to prevent this, Jesus invited the young to approach, saying: “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven is made up of their kind” (Luke 18:15–17).

In short, Jesus transmitted the blessings of the true god to the children, whereas Elisha effectively destroyed kids by the curse of the creator. One can argue here that the two scenes are fundamentally different. The children of the gospel, after all, do not mock Jesus. If they did, perhaps his response would have been different. But we have little reason to think so, for when Jesus was rejected and refused hospitality by the (adult) Samaritans, he did not curse them.

When his disciples suggested they call down fire from heaven like the prophet Elijah (2 Kings 1:9–13), Jesus rebuked them as if they were raving mad (Evangelion 9:54– 55). For Marcion(ites), Jesus was on a different wavelength than the prophets of the creator. He did not represent their character. He certainly did not replicate the character of the creator, whose “justice” was exposed as cruel, even murderous.

--  M. David Litwa, The Evil Creator: Origins of an Early Christian Idea

[astrognossienne]

scandalous star: gary cooper -an analysis

“I don’t like to see exaggerated airs and exploding egos in people who are already established. No player ever rises to prominence solely on talent. They’re molded by forces other than themselves. They should remember this – and at least twice a week drop to their knees and thank Providence for elevating them from cow ranches, dime store ribbon counters and bookkeeping desks. ” - Gary Cooper

He didn’t say much, but when he did, it carried a lot of weight. He was the archetypal hero of the Old West; the quintessential masculine ideal of the stoic and “strong silent type” that most Taurus men are. But for famously laconic Gary Cooper, his good looks and earnest, haunted eyes for decades made him the quintessential lonely American of motion pictures.He was a more equanimous, human protagonist versus boisterous, bigger-than-life Hollywood supermen. He was renowned for his quiet, understated acting style and his individualistic, emotionally restrained, but at times intense screen persona, which was particularly well suited to the many Westerns he made. He was a man’s man...as well as a ladies’ man. Cooper became a hero to many, even as he developed a reputation as one of the most notorious philanderers in Hollywood. Privately a debonair ladykiller with a taste for high society, he crafted an image as just the opposite from his prototype cowboy image he materfully portrayed on the silver screen. He was insatiable, before and during his marriage. How did he reconcile his moral righteousness onscreen (Taurus sun) with his philandering offscreen (Sagittarius moon)? That was the work of the fixers, gossip magazines, and the studio system at large, which ensured that Cooper was never caught, never denounced, and held up as a paragon of American values.

Gary Cooper, according to astrotheme, was a Taurus sun and Sagittarius moon. He was born Frank James Cooper in Helena, Montana, the second son of an English farmer from Bedfordshire, who later became an American lawyer and judge, Charles Henry Cooper (1865-1946), and Kent-born Alice (née Brazier) Cooper (1873-1967). As a child, he met a freed slave woman named Mary Fields, otherwise known as Stagecoach Mary, and so awed by her was she that he later wrote an account of his memories of her in Ebony magazine. His mother hoped for their two sons to receive a better education than that available in Montana and arranged for the boys to attend Dunstable Grammar School in Bedfordshire, England between 1910 and 1913. Upon the outbreak of World War I, Cooper’s mother brought her sons home and enrolled them in a Bozeman, Montana, high school. Upon graduation, he eventually matriculated at Grinnell College in Grinnell, IA, where he attempted to nurture a passion for drawing - until a serious car accident ended his college days in the summer of 1920. He would recover from his severely injured hip through an odd but painful therapy, horseback riding.

When his father retired from the bench and moved his mother to Los Angeles, Cooper gave up agriculture classes to try his hand as a Hollywood extra. Cooper played an extra in a handful of silent films before arriving on the set of The Winning of Barbara Worth in 1926. The actor cast as the second male lead didn’t show, and someone shoved Cooper into the part. He appeared with Clara Bow (who soon became one of his conquests) in her star-making film It, but it was his appearance in another Bow vehicle Wings, released later that same year, truly launched his career. He plays a World War I flying cadet, and although his screentime was still relatively short, there was one scene — an extended close-up shot, the light streaming in from outside — in which he looked gorgeous. In 1929, he filmed The Wolf Song with Lupe Vélez. He soon had an affair with Velez, who purportedly claimed that Cooper “has the biggest organ in Hollywood but not the ass to push it in well.” For more on their relationship, read my star analysis on Lupe.

Cooper filmed The Virginian — his first real “talkie,” and the film was a major hit and cemented the foundation of Cooper’s image. His ability to project elements of his own personality onto the characters he portrayed, to appear natural and authentic in his roles, and to underplay and deliver restrained performances calibrated for the camera and the screen helped make him a cinematic success, often lauded by those he worked with. However, his good looks and charisma made him a success with women, whether he worked with them or not. Over the next few years, Cooper was paired with the most gorgeous and promising female stars in Hollywood —with Carole Lombard in I Take This Woman (whom he slept with), Claudette Colbert in His Woman (whom he allegedly slept with), Marlene Dietrich in Morocco and Desire (who he famously slept with more than once), and Joan Blondell in Make Me a Star (who he allegedly slept with). In 1932, Cooper and his Paramount “rival,” Cary Grant, were cast against Tallulah Bankhead in Devil and the Deep (1932). Like Lupe Velez, Bankhead was a loose cannon, with most famous quote being:

“The only reason I went to Hollywood was to fuck that divine Gary Cooper.”

Amidst all his public and private action, Cooper began courting Veronica “Rocky” Balfe, a starlet who went by the stage name of Sandra Shaw. She was also best known as the blonde dropped by King Kong. The two were wed in late 1933. Balfe retired from the screen to become a wife and mother, with her giving birth to their only child, Maria, in 1937. Cooper portrayed a new type of hero—a champion of the common man—in films like Mr. Deeds Goes To Washington and 1941′s Sergeant York (which won him his first of two Best Actor Oscars). Cooper met Ernest Hemingway at Sun Valley in October 1940 and they were friends for the rest of his life. He co-starred with Ingrid Bergman (with whom he had a year-long affair with) in a the film adaptation of Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls. He kept starring in more films and bedding his female co-stars until he got more than he bargained for when he made The Fountainhead. Naturally, the 47-year-old Cooper had an affair with his co-star, the 21-year-old Patricia Neal. However, this time things got crazy: Neal wound up pregnant with Cooper’s child. He insisted she have an abortion. When Cooper’s long-suffering wife found out about the relationship, she sent a telegram demanding he end it. This didn’t work; he also confessed that he was in love with Neal, and continued to see her. Cooper and his wife legally separated in May of 1951. Cooper’s daughter Maria, by then in her early teens, famously spat on Neal in public. Neal later claimed that Cooper hit her after she went on a date with Kirk Douglas. Neal ended their relationship in late December 1951. Amid all this drama, Cooper starred in what is now regarded as his defining role: the beleaguered sheriff in High Noon, which won him his second Best Actor Oscar. In later life, he became involved in a relationship with the costume designer Irene, and was, according to Irene, "the only man she ever loved".

Maybe all his previous actions had an affect on him because Cooper converted to Catholicism in 1958, and reconciled with his wife and daughter. Also, he began starring in films that centered around searching for redemption, such as Friendly Persuasion (1956) and Man of the West (1958). In 1960, Cooper fell ill with prostate cancer, which quickly spread to his colon, lungs, and bones; he died of it shortly after his 60th birthday in 1961. A year after his death, Irene committed suicide by jumping from the 11th floor of the Knickerbocker Hotel, after telling Doris Day of her grief over Cooper's death. Regardless of his philandering, regardless of the arduous work of his studio’s publicity departments, there was something plaintive, almost childlike, maybe even innocent about Cooper, so he can easily be forgiven his sins. He acted out what mattered to millions of people, and that act made him a star beyond measure.

Next, I’ll focus on his former paramour Lupe Velez’s arch nemesis. A woman who happened to be wife of MGM art director Cedric Gibbons (Gary Cooper’s wife Rocky’s uncle). She was another pioneer of Mexican cinema who was arguably the first Latina to successfully crossover to Anglo audiences: Leo Dolores del Río.

Stats

birthdate: May 7, 1901

major planets:

Sun: Taurus

Moon: Sagittarius

Rising: Taurus

Mercury: Taurus

Venus: Taurus

Mars: Leo

Midheaven: Aquarius

Jupiter: Capricorn

Saturn: Capricorn

Uranus: Sagittarius

Neptune: Gemini

Pluto: Gemini

Overall personality snapshot: He was torn between an instinct to roam free and a determination to find security and make a solid, lasting contribution to the world. As he repeatedly changed horses in search of both ultimate certainties and high-spirited adventure at the same time, he could find himself deeply divided and uncertain. He sought to earth the fire from heaven and put it to work, but he found all too often that it would not let him rest. In his search for stability and security, he became a farmer and was immediately confronted with the changing seasons. He embraced the solid certainties of geology and are hit by an earthquake. He liked to feel the solid earth move. He sought certitude and permanence, yet his endless inquiries constantly confounded yesterday’s certainties. When he got his own uncertainties together (by accepting he wanted the best of both the changing and the unchanging worlds), he could have been a brilliant teacher, conversationalist, counselor, entertainer, wit, creative artist or entrepreneur – in fact he could have been anything he wanted. Once focused, he could be a human dynamo, and wonderfully humorous, witty and entertaining with it. As he discovered, his quest for solid material certainties did not make a happy bedfellow for his yearning for excitement and larger religious and spiritual understanding. In one way or another, be it through philosophy and the spiritual quest or through writing, music or art, he needed to put together and formulate a total vision of the universe which is based on unassailable facts yet satisfying to his idealism.

Constantly seeking, he was a natural agnostic, applying the criteria of science to counter woolly speculations, yet at the same time highly skeptical of the limited and statistical pronouncements of unthinking science. The danger, if he did not marry these elements within him, is that he would swing from one to the other and undermine the virtues of both. A restless changing of jobs, careers, partners, visions or aspirations left him drunk with his own spinning. When he deliberately tried to remain sober and commonsensical, it seemed to make matters worse for there was something of the gambler in him. This all-or-nothing streak can temporarily overcome your natural caution and enable you to burn your bridges (though you will usually ensure there is something tucked away for a rainy day). He felt an impulsive need to do things on a grand scale, to live with commitment, to feast on the world, and to understand what it was to be alive in all possible ways. He seemed to be called both to explore the reaches of the imagination and to build secure foundations. He brought far-reaching visions into manifestation, and these visions injected his conservative desire for stability and security with flair and colour. His vision of tomorrow and the larger world gave spice to any project he undertook. He saw endless possibilities and wanted to make them real. In this he could be the natural entrepreneur who saw economic opportunities at every turn, an inspiring counselor and teacher, and a stimulating companion whatever he did.

His well-shaped body displayed a warm attractiveness and ripeness. In his later years, he may have needed to watch the tendency to gain weight too easily. His strong broad shoulders supported a very large neck size. His most outstanding feature was his eyes and his gentle smile and voice. He was big-boned. He enjoyed dressing well, preferring soft colours. He was practical, steady and patient, but he could  be inflexible in his views. One thing he did have was plenty of common sense and good powers of concentration, although he tended to think that purely abstract thought was a waste of time. His thought processes weren’t as quick as others, but his decisions were made with a lot of thought behind them. He also had the welcome ability to bring people together. He needed to be able to show his originality and independence in any job for complete satisfaction. His work should also satisfy his scientific bent and humanitarian leanings. He needed scope for his inventiveness, because he was able to bring a fresh view to any job. Ideally, his work should permit him to express the idealistic side to him character and allow him to help as many people as possible. He could be extremely efficient in the way that he tried to get maximum result out of minimum effort. He didn’t like extravagance and waste. He was a thoughtful and resourceful person, who was well-informed on many subjects. Success came gradually and as a result of hard work. Success and growth, for him, were expressed by material and financial achievements, bringing status and prestige.Worldly success was well within his reach, because he possessed all the necessary talents to gain power, influence and status. He was practical, determined and patient. When there were hitches in his plans, he simply worked around them. He knew where he was heading to, and had already figured out the best way to use his talents to reach his goals.

Although he could be fairly pessimistic about life in general, it didn’t put him off aiming for the top. He could be very single-minded about reaching his goals, and was prepared to put his career interests above his personal happiness. He was extremely aware of his own worth. He was prepared to work beyond the call of duty. His strong sense of ambition gave him a certain rigidity, arrogance and selfishness in the eyes of others. He belonged to a generation with fiery enthusiasm for new and innovative ideas and concepts. Rejecting the past and its mistakes, he sought new ideals and people to believe in. As a member of this generation, he felt restless and adventurous, and was attracted towards foreign people, places and cultures. As a member of the Gemini Neptune generation, his restless mind pushed him to explore new intellectual fields. He loved communication and the occult and was likely also fascinated by metaphysical phenomena and astrology. As a Gemini Plutonian, he was mentally restless and willing to examine and change old doctrines, ideas and ways of thinking. As a member of this generation, he showed an enormous amount of mental vitality, originality and perception. Traditional customs and taboos were examined and rejected for newer and more original ways of doing things. As opportunities with education expanded, he questioned more and learned more. As a member of this generation, having more than one occupation at a time would not have been unusual to him.

Love/sex life: His sexuality was a wonderful combination of sensuality and basic laziness. He let himself be carried along by his pleasure-seeking instincts, greeting every new experience with fresh eagerness and then slowly draining from that encounter all the joy it has to offer. This passive, easy-going approach to sex not only made for good technique, it also conceals the egocentric strength and stubbornness that was at the core of his erotic nature. People don’t realize that beneath all that luxurious hedonism he was always the person in control. He was a conservative lover for whom appearances were always important. There may have been occasions when his sensuality lured him into indiscretions but he was quick to cover his tracks and hide the evidence. The quiet practicality of his sexual nature served as a handy antidote for his Martian braggadocio. He knew that he was the best there is but he was willing to sit back and let the world find out the good news on its own. In his youth Cooper was endorsed by several female “experts” of the time (such as Clara Bow, Marlene Dietrich and Tallulah Bankhead) as Hollywood’s sexiest man. His soft spoken and manly sex appeal projected just as well on the screen. After marrying at age 32, Cooper’s sex life became somewhat more sedate though he never lost his ability to attract women.

minor asteroids and points:

North Node: Scorpio

Lilith: Scorpio

Vertex: Libra

Fortune: Capricorn

East Point: Taurus

His North Node in Scorpio dictated that he needed to be careful not to let the more emotional side of his personality overwhelm him. Instead, he should have set out to consciously develop his more practical abilities. His Lilith in Scorpio ensured that he was dangerously attracted to those women who seduced and conquered on a daily basis; who liked life intense and was judged for her sexuality and general vibe and learned early on how to deflect moral judgments. His type of women may have been tried in the court of public opinion but no way were they going to show up for the sentencing. His Vertex in Libra, 6th house dictated that he llonged for a union of souls that was based on a model of pure peace and justice. Images come to mind of a mythical life on Venus, the planet of love, where there is never a discordant beat between lovers, but rather, continual harmony even if played in the minor chords. Physical lust was certainly a necessary aspect of two beings eternally intertwined, but the platonic component far outweighed it in importance for him. He had an attitude of duty, obligation and sacrifice when it came to heartfelt interactions. The negative side was the tendency to become hypochondriacal or martyristic to get the love he so desperately wanted. There was a need for others to appreciate the sincerity of his intentions, to the daily tasks he executed in a conscientious and caring way and for others to know that his actions, no matter how routine they may seem, were based on devoted love. His Part of Fortune in Capricorn and Part of Spirit in Cancer dictated that his destiny lay in creating practical and long-lasting achievements. Success came through hard work, determination, responsibility and perseverance. Fulfillment came from observing his progress through life and seeing it take a form and structure that will outlive him. His soul’s purpose guided him towards building security in his life, both emotional and material. He felt spiritual connections and the spark of the divine within his home and family. East Point in Taurus dictated that he was more likely to identify with the need for pleasure (including the potential of liking himself) and comfort.  

elemental dominance:

earth

fire

He was a practical, reliable man and could provide structure and protection. He was oriented toward practical experience and thought in terms of doing rather than thinking, feeling, or imagining. Could be materialistic, unimaginative, and resistant to change. But at his best, he provided the practical resources, analysis, and leadership to make dreams come true. He was dynamic and passionate, with strong leadership ability. He generated enormous warmth and vibrancy. He was exciting to be around, because he was genuinely enthusiastic and usually friendly. However, he could either be harnessed into helpful energy or flame up and cause destruction. Ultimately, he chose the latter. Confident and opinionated, he was fond of declarative statements such as “I will do this” or “It’s this way.” When out of control—usually because he was bored, or hadn’t been acknowledged—he was bossy, demanding, and even tyrannical. But at his best, his confidence and vision inspired others to conquer new territory in the world, in society, and in themselves.

modality dominance:

fixed

He liked the challenge of managing existing routines with ever more efficiency, rather than starting new enterprises or finding new ways of doing things. He likely had trouble delegating duties and had a very hard time seeing other points of view; he tried to implement the human need to create stability and order in the wake of change.

house dominants:

12th

9th

8th

He had great interest in the unconscious, and indulged in a lot of hidden and secret affairs. His life was defined by seclusion and escapism. He had a certain mysticism and hidden sensitivity, as well as an intense need for privacy. Traveling, whether physically across the globe, on a mental plane or expanding through study was a major theme in his life. He was not only concerned with learning facts, but also wanted to understand the connections formed between them and the philosophies and concepts they stood for. His conscience, as well as foreign travel, people and places was also of paramount importance in his life. He loved the totality of the human experience and embraced the whole cycle of human life, including birth, sex and death. His darker side, and the complexes and emotions that he preferred to keep hidden, even from himself was a theme throughout his life. His ability to undergo deep personal transformations and spiritual regeneration was also highlighted.

planet dominants:

Venus

Saturn

Sun

He was romantic, attractive and valued beauty, had an artistic instinct, and was sociable. He had an easy ability to create close personal relationships, for better or worse, and to form business partnerships. He believed in the fact that lessons in life were sometimes harsh, that structure and foundation was a great issue in his life, and he had to be taught through through experience what he needed in order to grow. He paid attention to limitations he had and had to learn the rules of the game in this physical reality. He tended to have a practical, prudent outlook. He also likely held rigid beliefs. He had vitality and creativity, as well as a strong ego and was authoritarian and powerful. He likely had strong leadership qualities, he definitely knew who he was, and he had tremendous will. He met challenges and believed in expanding his life.

sign dominants:

Taurus

Sagittarius

Capricorn

His stubbornness and determination kept his around for the long haul on any project or endeavour. He was incredibly patient, singular in his pursuit of goals, and determined to attain what he wanted. Although he lacked versatility, he compensated for it by enduring whatever he had to in order to get what he wanted. He enjoyed being surrounded by nice things. He liked fine art and music, and may have had considerable musical ability. He also had a talent for working with his hands—gardening, woodworking, and sculpting. He sought the truth, expressed it as he saw it—and didn’t care if anyone else agreed with him. He saw the large picture of any issue and couldn’t be bothered with the mundane details. He was always outspoken and likely couldn’t understand why other people weren’t as candid. After all, what was there to hide? He loved his freedom and chafed at any restrictions. He was a serious-minded person who often seemed aloof and tightly in control of his emotions and her personal domain. Even as a youngster, there was a mature air about him, as if he was born with a profound core that few outsiders ever see. He was easily impressed by outward signs of success, but was interested less in money than in the power that money represents. He was a true worker—industrious, efficient, and disciplined. His innate common sense gave her the ability to plan ahead and to work out practical ways of approaching goals. More often than not, he succeeded at whatever he set out to do. He possessed a quiet dignity that was unmistakable.

Read more about him under the cut.

Actor Gary Cooper was born on May 7, 1901, in Helena, Montana. Spanning from the silent film era to the early 1960s, Academy Award-winning actor Gary Cooper built much of his career by playing strong, manly, distinctly American roles. The son of English parents who had settled in Montana, he was educated in England for a time. He also studied at Grinnell College in Iowa before heading to Los Angeles to work as an illustrator. When he had a hard time finding a job, Cooper worked as a film extra and landed some small parts. After his appearance in

The Winning of Barbara Worth

(1926), a western, Cooper's career began to take off. He starred opposite silent movie star Clara Bow in Children of Divorce (1927). Cooper also earned praise as the ranch foreman in

The Virginian

(1929), one of his early films with sound. Throughout the 1930s, he turned in a number of strong performances in such films as A Farewell to Arms (1934) with Helen Hayes and Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (1936) directed by Frank Capra. Cooper received an Academy Award nomination for his work on the film. Cooper continued to excel on the big screen, tackling several real-life dramas. In Sergeant York (1941), the played a World War I hero and sharpshooter, which was based on the life story of Alvin York. Cooper earned a Best Actor Academy Award for his portrayal of York.

The next year, Cooper played one of baseball's greats, Lou Gehrig, in The Pride of the Yankees (1942). Again, he scored another Best Actor Academy Award nomination. Appearing in a film adaptation of Ernest Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls,  Cooper starred opposite Ingrid Bergman in a drama set during the Spanish Civil War. This role garnered him a third Academy Award nomination. In 1952, Cooper took on what is known considered his signature role as Will Kane in High Noon. He appeared as a lawman who must face a deadly foe without any help from his own townspeople. The film won four Academy Awards, including a Best Actor win for Cooper. In addition to his excellent on-screen performances, Cooper became  known for his alleged romances with several of his leading ladies, including Clara Bow and Patricia Neal. The affair with Neal, his co-star in 1949's The Fountainhead, reportedly occurred during his  marriage to socialite Veronica Balfe with whom he had a daughter. Their marriage seemed to survive the scandal. By the late 1950s, Cooper's health was in decline. He made a few more films, such as Man of the West (1958), before dying of cancer on May 13, 1961. (x)

[horrorslashergirl]

Slasher OC: Decebal Avram Chirilă

Full Name: Decebal Avram Chirilă

Nickname(s): Dacia, Dece, The Impaler, Vladislav, Tiger, Lynx, Dracula, Casanova

Age: 38

Gender: Male

Nationality: Romanian

Place of Birth: Bucharest, Romania

Current Location: Travels from country to country

Occupation: Former Romanian Soldier; Now Hitman

Languages: Romanian, English, German, French, Italian, Hungarian, Russian, Turkish

Appearance:

Height: 6'8

Weight: 240lbs

Body Type: Middle Bulky and Atheltic

Skin Color: Warm Beige

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Hair Style: Short on the sides and longer on top, wavy

Eye Color: Pale Grey, almost white, giving the impression he is blind

Face Claim: Stephen James

Clothing: He opts for comfortable clothing mostly because of his job as a hitman and because he is always on the run. He mostly goes with black T-shirts or shirts, a khaki army coat with many pockets, along with camo army pants again with many pockets and black combat boots. He has a long black scarf with the colors of the Romanian flag trimmed along that belonged to his father.

Other features: He has many scars on his broad back and down his arms; his back's scars are covered by tattoos of an eagle and a grim reaper with two swords in an X shape. His has full sleeve tattoos down his arms, picturing all kind of nature scenarios from his country, mountains and wild animals and AK-47's on each forearm. His neck, chest and legs are also covered by tattoos along with his hands. This guy is all inked up. He also has a silver earing on his right ear. He also wears an eyepatch that is covering his scarred eye that he got from a fight with his brother Alexander, the scar mimiking the ones Alexander has, coming from his eyebrow down his eye and over his cheek.

Weapons: Twin Swords, Twin Guns, and throwing knives.

Power/Skills:

Murderous expertise

Brute strength

Skilled usage of weaponry

Skill in hand-to-hand combat

Knifesmanship

Swordsmanship

Multilingual

Cunning Nature

Charisma

Driving expertise

Ruthlessness

Fearlessness

Manipulation

Marksmanship

Master tactician and strategist

Stealth mastery

Symbols: Here is the link to Decebal's symbols

History/Bio:

Decebal was named after a Romanian king by his parents, father Apostol Chirilă, and his mother, Maria Stratulat of Moldovic heritage. They were a poor family that lived in Bucharest during the communist times, a hard period for them. Decebal's father, Apostol was one of the rebels that were against this form of a system of social organization in which all property is owned by the community and each person contributes and receives according to their ability and needs.

Because of this Apostol and Maria, along with their three years old son, Decebal, were dragged into the communistic jails where they were tortured in all kinds of ways from whipping to starvation to being chained into coldness.

Decebal tried to protect his parents even though he was a small child and the army warden that took care of the horrific jails was surprised by the child's braveness and he took him away from his parents, not before forcing him to watch how his parents were killed brutally.

During the rest of his childhood and teenage years, Decebal spent most of his life in the dark underground jail, training with the soldiers, doing hard work. Despite that, the warden thought Decebal about all kinds of languages, cultures, and history. 

'Just because you're a stray dog that doesn't mean you cannot learn to bark and bite.'

In his late teenage years as he grew into an adult man, he got more to the light outside, following the warden wherever he went and did was his so-called 'father' figure did; smoke, drink and got laid with all the ladies.

The warden's words during a drunken late-night:

'You know boy, you will do something big, much bigger than you can imagine. I saw how all these sluts looked at you... You make them fall into your arms like they are desperate whores.'

'Use everything you got; charms, brains, muscles. In this world, there are the ones that walk every inch of the ground as they own it and the ones that follow, all chained. Tell me, boy... Which one you are?'

One of the greatest abilities that Decebal earned during years in the darkness was that he got so used to it that now as an adult, he sees perfectly into the darkness, just like cats do. 

Some people called Decebal 'Lynx'; the moniker originates from the fact that Lynx has exceptional night vision, remarkable hearing, and incredible instincts. The spiritual lesson Lynx carries to you is a reminder to partake of quiet observance, remembering there’s more to the world than what’s accessible through the physical eyes and ears alone.

After communism fell down in Romania, Decebal still maintained the attitude he grew up around; being sadistic, cold, and cruel. People weren't too fond of his attitude; his habits including fighting and torturing people that opposed him, getting laid with other men's wives, strolling down the streets like he owned everything.

He disappeared from Romania when there was a reward on his head to be finally executed. The Romanian army was hot on his trail, turning against him, but he simply vanished.

He strolls from country to country, not having a definitive home and working as a rogue hitman to earn money and to survive.

After a brutal fight between him and his twin little brother, Alexander; the two brothers which resulted in both of them almost dead, they get on an agreement of peace between them, with the help of their third part, their little sister Nadia.

Family: His little brother Alexander Chirilă and his little sister Nadia Nikolina Chirilă

His favorite killing style:

He prefers a kill that will put on a good show, he will shot his victims in both their knees, then he will dismember them with his sharp twin swords.

Personality:

Decebal has two paths of personality; the civilian one and the hitman one, that sometimes cross path depending on the situation at hand. In hi day to day life, he is a charming, handsome man, confident and sure of himself, but also having a modesty edge, just to draw people in closer, because he loves the attention, having a God-like complex.

Despite his childhood, he is a very educated man that speaks many languages, sometimes taking people by surprise, he can even put on fake accents. He also has vast knowledge about other countries history, mostly because that's what his 'father-figure' talked a lot about.

He is a flirt, he simply adores to make women swon by his charming looks and mysterious persona wherever he goes, people always wondering from where he comes. He knows how to sweet-talk people, being extremly manipulative. His looks; big and strong, in his eyes a flaming white glow.

You will rarely see Decebal without his charming smile or dark smirk that makes the ladies sigh and faint. He always puts on a winning attitude, knowing for creating many divorces along his travelings. 

Here goes his saying: 'If the female raised her tail, who I am to deny.'

He has a romantic side, after all he does speaks the romance languages, but it's highly influenced his his Casanova attitude.

He is blunt; this man will tell if you're damn gorgeous or if you're down-right ugly or stupid. He has no problem putting his opinions straight on the table.

His favorite drink: Țuică- is a traditional Romanian spirit that contains ~ 24–65% alcohol by volume (usually 40–55%), prepared only from plums.

His favorite food: Sarma is a dish of vine, cabbage, monk's rhubarb, kale or chard leaves rolled around a filling of grains, like bulgur or rice, minced meat, or both. It is found in the cuisines of the former Ottoman Empire from the Middle East to Southeastern Europe.

His scent: Decebal's scent could be described as a 'game of seduction' with an "exciting rush" of citrus and cool spice top notes. Pungent bergamot "bites" with freshness, revived by cardamom and lavender. Caviar gives a provocative and erotic touch “like a trickle of sweat on a man’s chiseled body.” Masculine and rough notes of tobacco and orris root facilitate the heat of the composition. He has that scent that could be described as smoky confidence irresistible to women.

Other Characteristics:

He is a very good dancer, especially traditional ones and he also knows singing. Attending important parties with his 'father-figure' he learned from the women how to dance and sing. The women basically made him such a charismatic man.

He is a heavy drinker and holds his alcohol like it's water; his moldovic genes showing off. 

He is more of a night person that a day one, mostly because of his very good nocturnal sight.

He is pretty much an Outlaw.

His accent sounds like italian, latin, but with a little bit of russian or another slavic accent. (That's how a Austrian woman described his accent one night)

He is a master at Poker. Another way he earns a lot of money is through poker and plus, he is a master cheater. FUN FACT HERE: He won a man's wife through poker for one night.

He is a sword swallower, bonus he has no gag reflex.

He also loves to smoke from his pipe.

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There lived a certain man in Romania long ago

He was big and strong, in his eyes a flaming glow

Most people look at him with terror and with fear

But to Bucharest chicks he was such a lovely dear

He could preach the Bible like a preacher

Full of ecstasy and fire

But he also was the kind of teacher

Women would desire

DE DE DECEBAL

Lover of the ROMANIAN queen

There was a cat that really was gone

DE DE DECEBAL

Romania's greatest love machine

It was a shame how he carried on

He ruled the Romanian land and never mind the Tsar

But the kazachok he danced really wunderbar

In all affairs of state he was the man to please

But he was real great when he had a girl to squeeze

For the queen he was no wheeler dealer

Though she'd heard the things he'd done

She believed he was a holy healer

Who would heal her son

DE DE DECEBAL

Lover of the Romanian queen

There was a cat that really was gone

DE DE DECEBAL

Romania's greatest love machine

It was a shame how he carried on

(This is an interpretation of the song ‘Rasputin’ by Boney M, mostly because the song inspired me into creating him)

For power became known to more and more people

The demands to do something about this outrageous

Man became louder and louder

"This man's just got to go!" declared his enemies

But the ladies begged "Don't you try to do it, please"

No doubt this Decebal had lots of hidden charms

Though he was a brute they just fell into his arms

Then one night some men of higher standing

Set a trap, they're not to blame

"Come to visit us" they kept demanding

And he really came

DE DE DECEBAL

Lover of the Romanian queen

They put some poison into his țuică

DE DE DECEBAL

Romania's greatest love machine

He drank it all and said "I feel fine"

DE DE DECEBAL

Lover of the Romanian queen

They didn't quit, they wanted his head

DE DE DECEBAL

Romania's greatest love machine

[Spoken:] Oh, those Romanians...

=======================================================

But when his drinking and lusting and his hunger