#england needs to be destroyed tbh

[canmom]

UK gov should be voting around now on whether to call for a ceasefire in Gaza. of course, even if the vote goes through, that doesn't mean that Israel would actually agree to the ceasefire (especially if the Americans are still backing them up), but the UK has been one of the big obstacles (look at any UN vote), so it would hopefully make the balance of power shift towards ceasefire if the gov had to change its tune.

the party heads have been relentlessly pro-genocide, with for example Keir Starmer (leader of the opposition Labour party, likely the next prime minister if the Tories go) threatening to demote any 'front bench' politician who votes for ceasefire. so it's by no means a sure bet that a majority of politicians will grow a spine and vote to try to halt the genocide. hopefully all the pressure of the last few weeks (broadly speaking big protests, spamming up their inboxes, direct actions on Israeli arms companies) is enough to make them at least consider it, but this nightmare really underlines the limits of how much power we have to influence what a government does "in our name". every week that passes, more people die. I understand the reasons why there is this inertia, but it's times like this when you really feel that screaming frustration at the order of the world.

[fideidefenswhore]

do you think henry would've put mary and elizabeth back in the succession anyways or was it a "just in case" thing when he only had one son? see i'm wondering why he didn't do it sooner, in the 1538-9ish time, to get them married. I just find it weird why he was never clear what their rights were when asked, to make them good brides, until right at the end, when that's why it was so hard to get matches. it feels like he was expecting to have a few more boys and was waiting it out, or getting some distance between him and their moms until he calmed down.

He didn't prioritize them sort of feels like the obvious answer...? Like, iirc, he was attempting to secure his ardently hoped for match with Christina of Denmark by pairing off his children in some sort of tiered alliance but he wasn't legitimating (wrong word, because that's not technically what he did in the Third Succession Act either, but ykwim) his daughters or even just Mary (which probably would have appeased Charles V to some degree, but he wasn't going to do anything that would acknowledge papal authority, which is why this match was never made in the end...they said they needed a papal dispensation to absolve the affinity btwn Henry and Christina via his marriage to Catherine and Henry said they didn't because it was annulled by the Church of England and btw, demanded they acknowledge its authority to annul the union) to do so.

So, the timing of the Succession Act would suggest your second theory. Henry had probably hoped for son(s) from Jane, Anne of Cleves, then KH. The years in between the execution of the last and his marriage to Parr is something of a historical lacuna, but even in a state where he has no expectation of any other sons, given that he's a self-made widower (self-made, twice over...disgusting), he doesn't establish any role for his daughters in the future succession.

After he's been married to Parr for nine months (I mean, it's gross to think of him checking off boxes on a calendar but...yk...nine months exactly is a hell of a coincidence), he gets Parliament to authorize a new succession settlement. He does this before he leaves for the war in France, which made the matter more immediately pressing.

I don't think any amount of time would ever make Henry associate his daughters with their mothers any less, tbh. But if we want to give Henry the benefit of the doubt, maybe this conditional (quasi-)legitimation was not effected for several years because he went back and forth on the decision, took and considered counsel on how, if he wanted to do this, he should bring it about, on what terms, was it a politically viable option, would it have support in Parliament, etc.

Because let's think about Henry as a person for a moment: it's his way or the highway, and he had a very narrow view of the what the succession should be, and what God's will was for his succession. Once the Rubicon was crossed in 1536, there was nothing that could ever have happened that was going to make him (quasi-)legitimate one daughter and not the other (again). To legitimate Mary alone would be to acknowledge the Pope's judgement of 1534 (not to mention to accede to the demand of the Pilgrimage of Grace in 1536), to legitimate Elizabeth alone would completely tarnish the Church of England (one could argue this was tarnished already by reversal, because the same authority that vindicated her parents' marriage also annulled the same, but...Henry would not see it that way); both tantamount to admissions of grave sin that no amount of repentance could diminish, both with the potential to reflect poorly on his authority and judgement, and that potential would not have been acceptable to him, he could never have accepted either to be questioned when he considered it his duty to preserve the sanctity of both.

There were more nobles that would have supported Mary's claim bona fides, but several of these people were destroyed in the Exeter conspiracy. Most that had vehemently defended Elizabeth's were dead, but Henry would have had negative associations with both, although few, if any, of either group would have supported the claim of either above that of a son by marriage.

Although it is rather ironic that by dint of circumstance, and for all his convictions, Henry essentially, eventually admitted, seven years after the deaths of both their mothers, that Mary and Elizabeth were both bona fides (enough so to inherit the crown, at any rate); just by different jurisdictions (Papal versus Anglican).

[ofvoidx]

dishonored definitely has victorian era steampunk aesthetics, karnaca heavily based off of italy and dunwall heavily based off of england -- but they DO NOT share the era sentiments. i just need you to understand that the SEVEN STRICTURES are actually extremely lenient [ all things can corrupt -- hence the abbey turning militaristic and raiding anything for magic, though ] and super modern in how everything is set up.

they're honestly basically :

don't let shiny things corrupt you (bonecharms).

don't lie.

don't kill, don't destroy.

don't trespass.

i don't honestly know tbh, don't eat too much. feed your family as you should? i think that's the sentiment. they're all about gluttony in some fashion.

prostitutes are fun, but prostitutes don't love you.

don't let your thoughts corrupt you.

all of this is honestly for the abbeymen themselves, my long running point is that dishonored is a war on magic and classes and there's absolutely no homophobia or racism. there's SOME sexism, as well. but as it stands vs. actual victorian era, romance and sexual desires are absolutely not restricted.

[maximustirado]

Hetalia blog:

I’m soooo glad the last anime we were assigned to watch was a funny and light-hearted one. I actually love when people are able to make stereotypes funny and make comedic jokes with them. The anime was able to cover serious topics such as war and nationalism in a comedic way which was great and I think makes us pay even more attention to the serious topics being talked about. The anime represents each nation with a person that has the stereotypical traits that are common with the country. The countries being represented are the major powers that were fighting in World War II such as the Axis powers - Germany, Japan, and Italy and the Allied powers - USA, England, Russia, France, and China. For example, Germany is tough and serious, Japan is more timid and quiet, and Italy just loves pasta. The fact that one person represented each nation covers the topic of nationalism. It illustrates that everyone in the nation has the same ideas and supports the country in every way. While that isn’t always the case that people have the same ideas, actually people always have different opinions and viewpoints, I believe that the creator of the anime did this on purpose to show loyalty towards the nation and supporting the majority of viewpoints. In contrast to how I said it was good to see the anime using comedics to serious topics, it is important to realize how significant these moments were and how many lives were destroyed. We should always remember the importance of this event even if it is made in a light-hearted way as we owe it to those who died in the war. I personally cannot relate to the plot of the anime, but can in the way it was acted out. I am someone who tends to cope by making jokes or having a more giddy viewpoint when something serious happens. It definitely isn’t always good that I’m like this, but in my mind that is how I am able to get over things easier. Overall, I really enjoyed this anime and would recommend it to others. Wow, I can’t believe this is my final blog post for this class. Tbh, I probably won’t be using Tumblr anymore after this unless I take another class where I’ll need to, but honestly this was fun and I’ll miss it.

[marcianoliterati]

June Book Reviews, Part IV

3 romance books, ranging from thanks i hated to that was actually pretty fun!

Oblivious roommate, by Devon Doe

 I think this is based off a reddit post about a guy complaining about the guys his rommate brings home only to realise it bothers him cause he likes the guy.

The premise is that the MC is transferring colleges and moving in with his best friend from back home, after a breakup, and upon learning said friend is gay and in relationship has a bit of a existential crisis. 

It’s a nice idea, and I certainly enjoyed the reddit post, but the problem in this book is basically that the MC is a giant asshole.

 It makes it really hard to root for them as a couple when one is so fuckin immature and behaves in really stupid ways. Which is a shame,cause the other guy seems really nice actually. 

But my favourite ships are always the ones where I like everyone involved, and the way he acts is so insecure and ridiculous i’m not sure the couple will really stay together.

He thinks he might be gay  and like him so his idea is to trick his friend into kissing him and then lie to him about it? He goes digging around for dirt on the boyfriend cause he thinks “i dont like him and i dont know why so he must be a bad person, so i’ll help my friend get rid of a bad guy and then he’ll be free to be with me!” he actively sabotages his best friend’s relationship

It’s like all those awfully toxic tropes found in het romcoms but this time its gay

I do not recommend this book. 

The ex hex, by Rachel Hawkins/ Erin Sterling

3 stars

This book is urban fantasy, an ‘our world but a little bit to the left’ plot, just add a little magic. 

It’s set in a small town somewhere in the US, it’s a made up town hidden somewhere in the mountains. I think the location is mentioned but I forget, it hardly matters. 

It starts with a young witch who just got her heartbroken and while she and her cousin drown their tears with alcohol they decide to curse the guy who did the breaking.

Fast forward to nine years later when the guy is back in town, and the curse is causing real issues for the town, so they have to work together to fix it and uncover the hidden story of the town’s founding.

The town has sort of a gilmore girls feel so i’m guessing somewhere in new england, it has a witchy reputation they love to play up and actual magic users, including a whole magic faculty in the local university. 

It’s sort of a murder mystery cause there is death, and ghosts, and mysteries to solve.

They don’t work particularly hard at the world building tbh. The university has classes on magic, though we don’t get a lot of detail on that.

The MC’s family owns a magic shop that sells both trinkets to tourists and real magic items, the coffee shop runs on subtle magic and sells potions disguised as coffee, stuff like that.

Like the movie practical magic.

It’s all quite wholesome and it’s well done. 

And in the middle of it all, the MC and her ex are dealing with rogue magic.

Cause the ex, who is a descendant of the founder, is in town to “charge the lines” but learns quickly upon arriving that his magic is on the fritz and this causes a lot of issues, and his life may be at stake, so they have to fix it, before it hurts someone, and before their founders day festival cause if bad things happen then it could hurt the economy and destroy the masquerade.

It is very entertaining, and funny at times. 

It’s no great work of art but it is a good read, if a bit light. 

Plus two, by Natasha West

2.5 stars

This is a sequel to “plus one” where a woman is need of a date for her sister’s wedding, after her gf whom she’d talked up, suddenly breaks up with her, so she finds a service that hires people to act as emotional support for big events.

and the woman that shows up to play pretend for a day, is no other than a woman who a decade prior was her first love and first heartbreak. 

This book finds them a couple of years later, everything is going smooth until one of their parents brings up the baby talk and it reveals cracks in their seemingly-perfect relationship.

Tbh, i didn’t like it as much as the first one, there is just so much baby talk it gets a bit tired.

What is interesting is how they react to it, how they deal with said baby talk and the issues it presents. 

[canmom]

I know a couple of people involved in XR who are trying to change this absurd culture which sees arrest counts as the metric of success, so I wouldn't assume everyone involved is equally bad, but XR keep doing this shit: shovelling their people into arrests, making bizarre gestures in support of the cops who are arresting them, advertising their intent to break anti terrorism laws in full view of the state, even fucking up their actions like lock-ons which can be broken open in half an hour... like it's depressing, honestly.

They have such numbers, their graphic design and so on is impressive, but they don't seem to do anything with it except sacrifice hundreds of activists for the sake of a week's headlines, while telling them that it's nice to go to prison as some kind of weird spiritual retreat. So they're saturating resources that we rely on like GBC. And what are they doing this to achieve? It's often pretty unclear, but things like getting the government to declare a state of emergency (because that will never come back to bite us) or "green new deal" policies that aim for a fantasy of green capitalism. There definitely are people in their movement pushing it in better directions from inside as well as all the other groups dissing it from outside, but as long as the likes of Hallam remain in top down control it's probably gonna keep being a bit shit: a war of attrition where all the attrition is on one side.

Climate Strike are a bit more on it at least, from within the same demographic.

Extinction Rebellion UK right now.

Filling in a document with your full name, address, phone number and admit willingness to commit crimes that the UK is willing to prosecute under terrorism laws is NOT A GOOD IDEA. HOLY FUCK.

The more of this shit I see, the more I am convinced that every activist who doesn’t see prison as a fun vacation should not work in proximity of XR. This isn’t a simple ‘let’s agree to disagree’. This is a ‘you clearly don’t value the safety of activists at all so I’m gonna stay very far away from you’ thing. 

source: https://actionnetwork.org/forms/contemplating-prison-sign-up (best to copy this link to TOR browser if you want to see it. I wouldn’t put it past XR to keep track of the IP addresses viewing this site.)

[moneymasnn]

A Holiday romance|Mason Mount

A three part series: part 1

Notes: [4012 words] This was fic I started to write a while ago during the euros so I had to bring back one of the euro camp gifs. Hope you guys like the fic, your feedback is ALWAYS appreciated! Love u all xoxoxox

Warnings: Some swearing and that's it tbh, some fluffyyyyy.

The euros 2020 were over, it was a completely devastating loss, and there was no doubt a gloomy atmosphere that loomed over the team and their friends and family.

You happened to be one of the people that felt the sting of England's loss first hand. Watching your brother's heart break on that pitch completely destroyed you.

And as much as everyone was upset and disappointed, a well needed break was way overdue for a sunny holiday to refresh and recharge.

Your brother had invited you with a few of his closest friends and some of his teammates to join you on his holiday in mykonos. The plan was to drink and party for the first 5 days until eventually the rest of your family would fly out and so would the boys family’s.

So you were now sitting in a comfy tracksuit, your earphones in, while you looked out the window of a private jet, so ready to soak up some well needed sun.

There was one thing that could remotely ruin your holiday, and that was the one and only Mason Mount.

The man you had known since you were 4 years old, the man you had despised since you were about 12 years old. 

To you Mason was no more than one of your older brother's friends and team mate, and that’s all he ever will be to you. You saw Mason to be rude and arrogant. He was especially annoying to you, and god did he know how to push your buttons.

It didn't help that your familys got on so well, meaning that every holiday when you were younger involved Mason's family, which was fine, considering you loved his sister Jazz, but not him.

You were minding your own business on the plane, looking out at the gorgeous array of clouds before you were rudely disturbed by a tap on your shoulder and someone pulling an earphone out of your ear.

“Hey you!” Lauren sat down opposite you, a wide smile on her face. You loved Lauren, she had been dating Dec since they were about 16, so you had grown to know her and love her as a sister.

“Hey lozzy pops.” you smiled back as you pulled your earphones out to talk to her properly.

“You okay?” You asked her, noticing the frown on her face.

“Yeah, just-“ she sighed, “I was speaking to Dec, and Mason's quite upset about, you know, the loss, so try to be nice to him, for me?” she fiddled with her fingers as she spoke, shooting you a smile and mumbling a little please.

You just smile and shrug, “I’m not that much of a bitch.” you smirk at her.

She smiles and she nudges your arm, pulling up your other earphone so she can share one with you.

“Maybe you could cheer him up a little.” she smirks at you, raising her eyebrows as she nudges your side with her elbow.

“Shut up, I doubt I'm the last person he wants near him right now.” You sighed, turning your neck slightly to see mason sitting in a seat just a few rows behind you. Lauren was right, because he didn't have his usual ‘Mount smile’ on his face, he looked…sad.

Lauren was the leader of the ‘y/n and mason fan club’ being a huge believer that if you two just fucked it out then maybe you would get along.

Obviously this idea was ridiculous and you would never go near a naked Mason in a million years. And plus, she just wanted someone to go on double dates with.

When you arrived at your destination you all unacked into your rented villas. Unlucky for you, the only people in your villa for the meantime were: Dec, Lauren and mason. Mainly because both of your family's fly out you were sharing this villa all together. That was fine, it was a rather huge villa. And plus it was only 5 days until the rest of your family would join you.

You had spent the first half of your day curled up on the sunbed by the shared pool reading your book, trying to ignore the splashes of water coming from jack in the pool. As Sasha came and joined you and you both chatted away.

“Hey y/n?” You turned your head to see Ben Chilwell calling out your name from the bar behind you.

“Do you want a drink?” He smirked at you, you turned to Sasha who had a smile on her face. You rolled your eyes at her and jumped off the sunbed to join Ben at the bar. He had sun glasses on but you could still see him checking you out. And to be honest you weren't complaining. You were on holiday, and plus you only had five days to be horny before your family arrived

You bumped your shoulder against Bens as he looked down and smiled at you. 

“Don't be boring, get a cocktail!” He smirked at you.

“Fancy a shot?”

“I like your thinking.” He smiled as he turned to mason, who handnt said a word.

Even though it was something like 3pm, shots sounded like a good idea.

You leant forward to see a clearly pissed off Mason, you hadn't spoken to him yet, but you didn't make a comment on his sour face, feeling kinda bad for him.

“Hey Mason.” You looked at him, but he didn't turn to you, instead he just got off the bar stool.

“Want a shot mase?” Ben turned to him, grabbing his shoulder.

“Nah.” He mumbled before walking away.

You rolled your eyes at his rudeness, before watching Ben order you both cocktails, “It's like he's got a stick up his arse.” You said, causing Ben to snort out his pornstar martini.

You had a few friendly drinks with Ben at the bar for a while, not really flirting, just chatting, and plus you both ended up getting extremely drunk before walking back up the villas to get changed to go clubbing that night.

When you make it back to your room you don't really remember much of doing your make up and choosing an outfit. You just got changed and got in the taxi with lauren and mason in the back, dec in the front.

You were trapped in the middle as your leg was squished against masons. You looked up at him and smiled, and he gave you a faint smile back.

The exchange of looks didn't go unnoticed by Lauren, who just sat back and smiled, she knew her plan was working. Yes, Mason had been sulking over the loss, but not the loss you were aware of. 

Recently it had been Lauren's birthday, you knew the group went out clubbing but you hadn't been able to go since you had been booked for a youtube thing. But little did you know mason had had a few drinks and started asking around for you, when Lauren told him you couldn't make it, she saw the sadness in his eyes.

“Don't you hate y/n?” Lauren knew it was wrong to quiz him, especially since he was drunk, but she just had to know. And she doubted he would remember in the morning.

“The opposite actually.” Masons mumbled, as he rubbed his face with his hands.

“Mase, do you have a thing for y/n?” she smiled as she whispered in his ear over the bar, not wanting Dec to hear.

“Isn't it obvious? I've loved her since I was like 12. Im pretty sure she's like my soulmate Lauren! I want with y/n what you and Dec have.” He groaned out, Lauren's eyes widened in shock at his confession.

“Oh god, he's doing it again isn't he? For god's sake mase.” Ben groaned as he threw his head back, coming over to put Mason's arm over his shoulder.

“Wait, what are you on about Ben? Lauren quickly stops Ben.

“He does this every time he's drunk, he confesses his undying love for y/n. And I have to drag him away from Dec before he finds out that his best mate wants to shag his sister.” Ben mentaly grimaces as his friend is about to feel very embarrassed about this tomorrow.

“I knew it!” Lauren smiled.

“I mean it's pretty obvious, you've seen the way he looks at her.” And with that Ben tried to hold Mason up as he dragged him out the club to take him home.

Now this is where laurens plan started, she had spoken to Ben at the airport quickly, both of them deciding to create a plan to get you both together.

It started with Lauren telling you about Masons sulking, she knew you would immediately take pity on the boy and feel sorry for him.

Then plan two was where Ben came in, the plan was for Ben to ask Mason if he could ask you out. Ben felt awful doing it, but he knew Mason would never tell his friend he couldn't get with a girl just because he had a crush on her. 

So with Mason feeling jealous, and you feeling sorry for him, step three was for you both to do on your own.

The club was packed and sweaty, and after what felt like hours of dancing you went to the bar, since you were starting to feel tired.

“I'll get it.” You heard someone shout over as you ordered your drink. You wwe about to roll your eyes, thinking it was some sleazy man.

“No thank- oh. Thanks mase.” you smiled up at him, and this time, since the whole holiday, he flashed you a genuine smile.

You stood on your tiptoes, pulling the sunglasses off his eyes, you watched as he blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the light.

“I'm doing this for your own good. Stop wearing sunglasses in night clubs.”

You watched him awkwardly giggled, you placed his glasses on your head before joining the others back at the round table.

The next night Mason had brought a girl back, and you didn't sleep that night because all you could hear was them having sex till stupid o'clock in the moning. After hearing the moans of a random girl caused by Mason, you felt quite sick to be around him. It was almost like you felt angry. Angry that he would dare bring some girl back to your shared villa, and sleep with her when you were staying next door. It was like he didn't even consider your feelings. And that's exactly what you told Ben the next morning, he just laughed and said it sounded like you were jealous. But you were far from jealous.

Instead you found yourself spending an unhealthy amount of time with Ben. You loved spending time with Ben, it was different, and plus all you would both do is get drunk while he told you about his girl problems. See Ben never flirted with you, which you found odd, but you didn't really mind as you found a friend in him.

Then 4 days later the rest of your family had flown out and you all went for a meal that night. You were all at a fancy restaurant as you felt the masons gaze fall on you a ridiculous amount of times.

That night you went home and uploaded a few photos to instagram of you and the boys, which was an awful idea since your dms had been blowing up about you and sleeping with the boys. 

The comments on your body in a bikini made you feel ill, but you read them until tears were streaming down your face.

You couldn't sleep that night, and when you checked the time it read 4:12am as you thought you would go on a walk.

You were quiet as you tiptoed down the stairs, but somehow you managed to bump into a tall figures back.

“Little rice? What are you doing?” Mason said in a groggy voice, as he walked into the shared kitchen with an empty glass.

You jumped at first, his sudden entrance scaring you slightly. You look him up and down before answering. 

“Was going to go for a walk. Can’t sleep.” You say bluntly, shrugging your shoulders, trying to tear your eyes from him.

He was shirtless, wearing only his pants, you tried not to look at his toned chest but instead how perfectly messy his hair was, as you watched him rub his eyes and walk to the fridge.

“It’s late though?” He questioned you.

“And, what are you going to do? Tell my mum?” You roll your eyes as you grab Declan's jumper that was hanging over the bar stool next to you, putting it on.

“Y/n it’s 4am, and you want to go for a walk, in a foreign country, as a female, and on your own?” Mason huffed as placed down his glass of water, grabbing his shirt and shorts off the back of a chair and putting it on.

You stood eyeing him up for a second, before you realized what he was doing, but mason stopped you before you could protest.

“If you're going for a walk at this time of night I’m not going to let you go on your own am i.” Mason smeared at you bluntly as he tried to stifle a yawn.

“That defeats the whole point of walking on my own. And if I did want company it’s definitely not yours.”

"Anyway, haven't you got that girl up in your room again?" You say crossing your arms, trying to not sound jealous.

"What girl?" Masons laughs.

You roll your eyes at him playing all innocent, "The girl you was shagging all night last night in the room next to me? The reason I got no fucking sleep!" You whisper shouted at him.

"Y/n."

"Whatever i'm-"

"Y/n!"

You turned to see mason with a wide smile on his face.

"What?" You scoff at him.

"One, I defiantly did not bring a girl back here. And two, I'm not in the room next to you." Mason brings his lips into a faint line.

You stand for a moment as you think who else was in the villa with you if it wasn't mason having loud sex at 2am... your brother.

"Ew!" You start to gag as Mason laughs at you being dramatic.

"Ugh gross, I'm actually going to have to kill myself. Ewwwwww."

Mason was laughing as he walked over to you at the door, he smiled as he pulled on his shoes and his hat. But against your persistence, Mason followed you out onto the dark streets of Mykonos.

You were both walking in a comfortable silence at first, soaking up the warm breeze and listening to the sounds of early birds. Peaceful, until the little fuck had to open his mouth.

"Can I just add, ive left my phone... and clearly so have you, so if we get kidnapped and sold off to some sex ring-"

"Mason." You say, turning to him with wide eyes. "No ones getting kidnapped."

"People would pay a lot of money to cut off my feet and have them stuffed, you'll be surprised by the stuff I read in my instagram dms."

You had to try to stifle a little laugh, because you were aware of how crazy messages that people send can be, being quite the famous YouTuber yourself.

There it was again, you fell back into that comfortable silence, until you started to think about all the things you had come on the walk to distract yourself from. You looked over at Mason, he was clearly in his head, you could tell by the frown on his lips. Then you remembered what Lauren had said to you on the plane.

“Are you okay?” You blurted out, Mason's face snapped to you with furred eyebrows.

“You know, since the final?” You mumbled out, trying to avoid his intense gaze.

“You really want to know?” Mason scoffs.

“I’m simply making conversation." You shrug at his judgemental attitude.

“Honestly,” Mason sighs out. “I'm still pretty devastated. I really wanted it, so did the rest of the boys but, I really wanted it.”

“Why's that?”

“I think its because I feel this overwhelming pressure to prove myself to everyone.”

There was silence as you had both decided to sit on the same wall that separated the road from the beach, you kicked some sand between your toes before Mason spoke up again.

“I had so many conversations with my dad growing up about needing a back up career, I was always told to keep my options open, you know. And looking back it was just my parents wanting to play it safe, but at the same time for a kid I always felt like they didn’t believe in me.”

“Shit.” You just raised your eyebrows, sort of peachless that he had decided to confide in you of all people.

“Sorry I don’t know why- I don’t know why I’ve just said all that.” Mason says, shaking his head, as he brought his hand up to rub his temples.

You placed your hand on his knee, which caused Mason's heart to thump at the contact.

“You shouldn’t be sorry for how you feel, it’s not like we can control our emotions.” You shrugged your shoulders, moving your gaze from his eyes to the beautiful view of the glistening sea.

“But I suppose losses like the euros are just gonna make you more hungry for other things like the new season and the World Cup.” You sighed at him.

Mason's eyes didn't move from your face the whole time you were talking, he knew you knew he had been staring. But he didnt care, the way your eyes reflected the sea and glistened in the moon was enough for him.

His smile never faded as you tried your best to make him feel better, his eyes flickered to your hand that was still on his knee, before he nudged your arm, causing you to turn to him with a faint smile.

“What about you, doubt it’s nice being Britain’s ‘it girl’ ” He rolled his eyes.

“Shut up.”

“Seriously though what’s that like? Having every teenage girl want to be you.”

“Honesty? You turned to him, raising your eyebrows.

“Honestly.” Mason smiled.

“I hate it a lot of the time. I would never say that out loud to someone else because it would probably be seen as problematic. But sometimes I just think about how people know everything about me, like every tiny little detail.”

“That’s the price of being famous i guess.” Mason shrugs.

“I feel like, I can’t be myself sometimes, it’s like everything I say and do is analysed. I have to look perfect and be perfect all the time.” You huffed, as the reason you were on this walk in the first place.

“Or it’s like I feel guilty for being sad or taking time off because then people will say that I have this perfect life and I should be happy all the time… it’s just exhausting.”

You don’t know where that came from, you’ve never said that before in your life… you just blurted it out.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from.” You awkwardly laugh, confused at yourself.

“This person, I can't remember her name, but she once told me you shouldn’t be sorry for your emotions, because you can’t help what you feel.” Mason smiled down at you.

You looked up at his face, his eyes were twinkling in the moonlight, as his eyes held full eye contact on yours. You felt your heart flutter as he repeated your words.

“I feel like this is a brief relapse in the whole enemies thing we have going on, we can go back to hating each other tomorrow.” You say, trying to suppress your smile.

“Why do you hate me little rice?” Mason says, you could feel his stare burning into you.

“Because you're a dick” You say with no hesitation, flicking a bit of sand up with your foot.

“Ooof” Mason nods as he shakes his head with a smirk, placing his tongue in the corner of his mouth.

“You really don’t know?” You question him.

“Wait, there's a reason?” Mason sat up, shocked.

“Yes! Mason what the hell, it literally all stems from that one time when we were twelve and you ruined my birthday party!” You looked at him as if it was obvious.

Mason's Brain goes foggy for a second before he recalls what you're about.

“The cake thing? You still hate me at the big age of twenty two because I knocked your birthday cake over with a football when we were twelve?” Mason scoffs, a wide smile covering his face.

You don’t reply, but Mason knew by that look on your face that you were being serious.

Mason's lips draw into a line as he bites his lips, he tried to contain his laughter, and to be serious, but he couldn’t as started having a laughing fit.

“Stop laughing!” you say with a small giggle. 

“Mason I swear.” you push his arm, trying to stop yourself from laughing along with his stupidly contagious laugh.

“Sorry, sorry.” Mason raised his hands in defence, “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” He wiped a few happy tears from his eyes.

You laugh along with him, your hatred for Mason did really stem from that little accident when you were 12, but you actually weren’t too sure why you hated him, but right now all you knew was you two seemed to be getting on quite well.

“You totally did it on purpose.” You cross your arms and smirk at the brunette boy who was wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

“Did not!” He said back defensively.

“Er, yes, you did!”

“I was trying to do some kick ups to impress you! You know I used to have a huge crush on you when we were kids.” Mason blurred out, feeling slightly embarrassed about his childhood feelings.

“Really?” You ask him, a smirk placed on your cheeks.

“Yeah it was pretty obvious, everyone used to tease me about it.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

You sit for a second, never realizing that before Mason had had a crush on you..

"My mum used to say we would get married one day." Mason mumbled as he placed his leg up on the wall, resting his chin on his knee.

"Funny because my mum still says the same thing." You say with a slight smile.

Mason laughs as he stares back at your eyes, as the picture of you in a white dress flashes through his mind.

"Yeah, I used to have a huge crush on you, I even asked your dad ‘for your hand in marriage’ once" Mason laughs as his cheeks turn a little bit red thinking about it.

"No way!" you laugh.

"Remember that time you tried to kiss me when we went to Chessington zoo?" You said as you gave into his stare, turning to look at him.

"Tried? I very much succeeded, thanks." Mason said with a smirk.

"Not really when I ran off crying."

You were both leaguing about more childhood memories before the sun shot up, causing the both of you to head back to the villa.

You were both still laughing when you walked through the door, you were giggling at the fact that Mason had tripped walking back up the hill.

"Stop laughing, it really wasn't that funny."

"For a footballer you have zero coordination."

"Hey!" Mason said, pretending to be hurt by what you just said.

”Where have you two been?” Jazz questions you as you walk in the kitchen, with a very upset summer in her arms.

You and Mason look pretty guilty, you both share a glance before turning back to a smirking Jazz.

“Maybe I don’t want to know.” she says as she raises her hand, turning her attention to the milk bottle on the table.

“What are you up to anyway?” Masons asks his sister as he sits down on one of the bar stools.

“It’s 8am, and I have a baby." She says sarcastically before making her way back to her bedroom with summer and the milk bottle.

You didn't say anything to Mason, you just walked past him to follow where jazz went, down the hallway and into your room.

Mason tried to get the courage to speak to you before you wisped around the corner, disappearing before he could say anything.

[golden-pickaxe]

Wrong Side (Part 1)

Fandom: Cursed

Paring: Weeping Monk x F!Reader

Type: post season 1 (aka I do what I want, this show has been cancelled)

Wordcount: 10.177

Warnings: Violence, eventual Smut (18+), canon typical themes, christians are not talked nicely about

A/N: I actually wanted to post this as just one part, but as it is getting close to 20k words, I thought I would split it up. The second part is almost done, so yea. A few things are, that this story contains OCs, it contains made up lore because the source did not give much, and I based most of the lore on Celtic stuff, thought I am not an expert and it is also not super detailed. Idk where this came from tbh. Mostly because as someone who does longsword and types of short sword fencing (HEMA) in my free-time, every time I see or read bad fighting descriptions I want to cry. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this! Not a fandom I ever thought I would write about, but apparently my brain was searching for a new fixation in these trying times! It is basically a sweet romance with sword fighting, angst and hope, with a happy ending :) because we need happy endings!

Title of the story is from Wrong Side by Abney Park, a quote of which you will also find in this story!

Edit: This story is finished! [Part 2] , [Part 3]

Summary: You and your friends are the last of the Fire folk, making your way south to flee the red paladins that have destroyed your village. One night, a man and a boy stumble upon your camp, who had once stood on the wrong side of history. 

Even though the days were still quite warm, the nights had already started to grow bitter cold. The leaves of the forest had started to turn orange, yellow, red and brown, the beautiful turn of the seasons, as fall was slowly creeping over England.

You usually loved the fall, always excited for the many colours and harvest celebrations, the rituals that usually marked this time of year. The fall equinox was just a few days away now, if you read the heavens correctly, but where you usually would be busy with helping bring in the harvest and preparing the feasts and bonfires to end the season, you were now sitting on the cold ground, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, staring into a small, smouldering campfire. It was dark, the sky covered in clouds, to that not even moonlight could reach you, as you kept the first night watch over the camp, over the few remaining friends you still had in this world. They were huddled up in their own cloaks and blankets, finding a bit of restless sleep before you would travel on again.

You chewed on your lower lip, staring into the flames, your fingers idly moving, causing sparks of the fire in front of you to for figures and dancing shapes in the night.

It had been a long and horrible summer. The red paladins had ravaged the land, storming over the Pendragon kingdom from the north, where all this terror had started so long ago. Their kind had killed the fey for over two decades now, but this year was the first time that they bolstered such numbers, raged a war with so much strategy and determination. And surly with more funds from their overlords in Rome. Where years ago a fey village here and there was burned, with even some people surviving to tell the tale, now one after the other fell, so quickly that it was almost impossible to know where they would go next. Even larger strongholds, that had until now withstood the terror the Christians brought with them, had fallen like a house of cards.

 You pulled your blanket tighter around your body. You felt so trapped, as if the paladins were closing in on you and your friends with every passing minute. Part of you was just about to give up, to accept that this was the end of your people, as the places where you could hide dwindled every day. You and your friends had initially been on your way to Nemos, after you had heard other fey you had met talk about it, but when you had arrived, all you had found were burned remains of an abandoned camp.

 So now, you travelled on a bit aimlessly, planning to go south, towards Cornwall, a place where there were still enough woods, still enough unpopulated land, so that it could maybe be a new starting point. As far as you knew, the paladins had not made their way this far to the south yet, and if you remembered the stories of your mother correctly, it was still mostly inhabited by fey, with many clans of Piskies, Browneys and Spriggans scattered over the forests, fields and cliffsides.

Old stories were of course not much to go by, but it was at least something to give you and your four friends some hope.

 A sigh left your lips, your breathing forming a cloud of mist in the cool air. Cold, howling wind was rushing through the trees, pulling at your blanket and biting through your clothes, a constant wall of noise around you, making it even more vital for you to pay attention to your surroundings. But it was hard to make anything out besides the sound of the branches in the wind or see anything beyond the small light of the fire.

You were quite tempted to make the fire burn a bit brighter, not only to see more, but also to feel more of its warmth on your cold skin. But you knew, that just having that small fire in the first place, was risky enough, so you kept it low, only shimmied a bit closer to the flames, stretching out your hands to warm your clam fingers a bit, which were clad in fingerless gloves.

 A sudden noise, that managed to reach your ears even through the howling wind and rustling branches, made your head turn to the right, your hands automatically reaching for the longsword lying next to you. It had distinctively sounded like the crack of a branch. A branch that was stepped on.

 You got up in a swift move, your still fingers wrapped around the hilt of your sword, the metal reflecting the orange light of the low fire.

 “Born in the dawn..” a small voice called out from the shadows beyond the light of the fire, the voice of a small boy. Your heart was beating in your throat, the confirmation that there indeed were people in the woods around you. That a child had spoken was no reason for you to let down your guard, who knew what new tactics the red paladins had thought up now. Using a child as bait was not beyond them.

 “To pass in the twilight.” You answered nevertheless, your foot kicking on of your friends that was lying closest to you in the ribs, Calder instantly waking up. “Who are you?” you then added, shooting Calder a quick, intense look, as soon as the man had opened his eyes.

 “I’m Squirrel!” the voice said, and stepping out of the shadows of the trees and into the light of the fire was indeed a small boy, bruises on his face.

 “Are you alone out here?” you asked, while Calder had gotten up as well, gripping his own sword and waking up the rest of you.

 The boy looked uncertain for a moment, shooting a glance back into the shadows.

“No..” he finally said.

 “Who is with you?” his behaviour alarmed you immensely, as apparently your gut feeling had been right. He was bait. You immediately raised your sword, your body tensing up, ready for a fight.

 “He.. he is one of us!” the boy quickly said, noticing your demeanour. “Please, don’t hurt him! He saved me!”

 You frowned at the words of the boy, confused why, if the person was fey like all of you, he hid in the shadows instead of approaching together with the boy. You friends seemed just as confused as you were, as none of them lowered their weapons.

 “If you are fey, you have nothing to fear here. Step out, or we will be forced to attack!” Calder spoke up, his reddish eyes trying to spot any movement in the dark forests. You felt increasingly uncomfortable.

 Even through the constant howling of the wind, steps now became audible to you, the sounds of a horse, and a person walking closer to the camp. Then, with raised hands, though one hand was holding onto the reigns of a black horse, was a hooded man. Even though you had never seen him before, you had heard enough horror stories to immediately recognise who had just stepped into your camp. It was the one who cried, the weeping monk.

 Panic ran through you, blood rushing through your ears. You took a step back, though the grip around your sword grew even tighter.

 “I knew this was a trap!” you brought out between gritted teeth, and your friends around you looks as if they were ready to attack. “The boy is bait!”

 “No, please wait!” the child cried out, jumping in front of the monk, raising a small hunting knife defensively.

 You stopped yourself, as you had already taken a few steps towards them, shooting one short look at your companions. You had absolutely no idea what was going on, why this fey boy was defending your most dangerous enemy like that, and why.. why he had called him ‘one of us’. You mustered the monk more closely now, and noticed that he had no sword around his hip, was unarmed. His face was covered in dried blood, almost covering the weird tears on his face, that made the man so recognisable. Seeing those tears sent a shiver down your spine, a shiver you could not quite place.

 “Explain.” You said, earning a confused look from Calder.

 “He-.. he saved me from the paladin torturer! And he killed those guys in the golden masks! We just escaped the red paladin camp yesterday, and have been riding ever since!” the boy stumbled over his words, still protectively standing in front of the tall monk behind him.

 “And what did you mean, when you said he was ‘one of us’? As far as I know, none of us here is a murdering Christian!” your words were biting, accompanied by unfiltered hatred. You had seen too many of your brothers and sisters killed to have any kindness in your heart for this bastard. The monk clenched his jaw, his eyes dropping to the ground. He almost looked ashamed, if you didn’t know better.

 “He is fey! I saw it!” the boy exclaimed, looking around himself. You could almost see the gears running in his mind. “Look!” he then suddenly said, bending down and picking up a leaf from the ground. Without hesitating, he pressed it against one of the raised hands on the monk, who immediately flinched back, as if the boy had not pressed a leaf, but hot coal against his skin.

But it had been too late, you all had seen it. You all had witnessed his skin turning green, mimicking the colour and texture of the leaf it had touched.

 “How.. how could you?” the small voice from one of your friends, Leofyn, broke the tense silence, laced with pain and disbelief. “Your own people..”

 Your mind was racing as you stared in the man’s face, suddenly realising what the shiver down your spine had meant.

 “Ash folk.” Another one of your friends, Edwyn spoke up, wording what you had just realised. “The face markings.. weeping monk, what a joke.” He shook his head in disgust.  

 You closed your eyes for a moment, frustration flooding your mind. You lowered your weapon before opening your eyes again.

 “If he is Ash folk, we can’t hurt him.” You spoke up. Calder gritted his teeth, before spitting on the floor, although he knew better than to argue. He knew it as well as you all did.

 Squirrel looked shocked and confused, his eyes darting from one of you to the next, before relief overcame his features when he noticed all you reluctantly lowering your weapons.

 “Wh- why?” he asked carefully. The monk behind him looked just as confused.

 “We are Fire folk. Our clans.. back, before the Ash folk were murdered, our clans had a pact, a friendship dating back for centuries. We can’t hurt them, no matter how much we would like to.” Edwyn explained, wiping a hand over his face. “After the massacre of the Ash folk up in Scotland, our clan moved south, until the paladins reached us here too. We’ve not been this far south in a few hundred years.”

 “I am certain that this monster won’t abide by our ancient treaty! I bet my life, he has already killed more of our clan than he can count!” the last one of your friends, Morrigan, raised her axe again. “He may be born fey, but he is fey no longer!”

 “Do you really want to anger the gods, Morrigan!” Leofyn sounded scared.

 “What do you want?” you interrupted, as Morrigan opened her mouth to probably say something blasphemous. Your eyes studied the child and the monk, who still had his hands raised defensively.

 “We.. we..” the boy started, but with his eyes darting over to Morrigan’s threatening, tall figure, he seemed to stressed and confused to articulate himself.

 “We were trying to find refuge, to flee the paladins.” The monk spoke up for the first time, and all of you instantly raised your weapons again. His voice was smooth and low, reminding you of smoke and ash in your lunges. “For the boy.” The monk then added.

 “And you? What do you want?” Calder asked, his voice biting.

 “Nothing. I just want to see the boy safe.” The monk said, and you could sense no deceit in his words or expression.

 Morrigan laughed.

“Yes, sure. And I am the queen of England.” She shook her head, her short black hair slightly falling into her face. “So, you wouldn’t mind if we killed you right here, right now?”

 “Morrigan!” Leofyn exclaimed, but to the surprise of everyone, the monk just nodded.

 “It would be what I deserve. I know that.”

 His words surprised you, you had not expected him to say that. You were not sure what you had expected, though it certainly was not him being so willing to throw his life away like that. And recognising that this would be what he deserved after all he had done.

 “You want to die..” it came out of your mouth, before you could stop yourself, and it was not a question. The monk just looked at you in silence, not confirming, but also not denying your suspicion.

 “Whatever he wants, or does not want..” Edwyn spoke up again. “As Y/N said, we cannot harm him. But we can take the boy with us. Though, you must know, we are just as lost as you are, Squirrel.”

 “I will only come with you, if Lancelot can come too!” the boy seemed serious, his face a grimace.

 Lancelot.. you frowned hearing his name. It made the whole thing more real to you, that the phantom haunting so many fey dreams now had a name.

 Edwyn pursed his lips. It was obvious that he was not ready to just let this boy leave again with the murderous monk, not wanting to leave a fey child behind. He stepped towards the child, kneeling down before him, to be face to face. His hazel eyes mustered the young fey intently, before he spoke up again.

 “I think that I am correct, when I say that you have seen great terror, my boy. Terror and pain and death. We all have. So, you must understand why your request is impossible. Even if he is fey, we cannot take him with us, he who has murdered more of our kind than any other of the paladins.” His voice was soft, his words slow, to make sure that the boy understood him and his reasoning.

 Squirrel opened his mouth, but closed it again, turning for a moment to look at the tall man behind him.

“I know.” He finally said. “But.. but he can change! Why else would he have saved me? Why else would he have killed the Christian knights?”

 Edwyn frowned at the words of the child, but then looked up at the weeping monk too.

“That is a good question. Why did you kill them?”

 “What does it matter?” Morrigan asked, before the monk could even open his mouth. “He is a murderer, of course he is going to kill his own people! He is ready to wipe out his own kind, why would he stop at his brothers?”

 “Silence, Morrigan!” Calder let out a frustrated sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose. “We.. we should consider this.”

 The black-haired man chewed his lower lips for a moment, before he knelt down, rummaging through the bag at his feet, which he had used as a pillow when he slept. A moment later he pulled out a rope, stepping over to the child and the monk.

 Squirrel positioned himself defensively in front of the tall man behind him once more, his eyes staring daggers at Calder, who raised his hands for a moment.

 “I will not harm him, I will just bind his hands.” He started, before looking from the boy to the monk. “And then he can sit down with us, and explain his motivations. Then we will decide.”

 There was a long moment of silence, while the boy thought it over. It was weird that the monk said nothing for himself, just stood there, unmoving.

 “Alright.” the boy finally spoke up again.

 The monk clenched his jaw again, not looking happy at all, but he still stretched his arms out, to let Calder bind them together. Leofyn in the meantime took the reigns of the monk’s horse, leading it to where your own horses were standing, trying the animal to the same tree.

 Calder led the monk closer to the fire, pushing his shoulders so he sat down, the boy taking a seat right next to him. The rest of you sat down as well, apart from Morrigan who was still standing, her axe still in her hands.

 “So, tell us then. Why did you decide to save the boy and kill your brothers? What caused this change of mind?” you asked, and you felt the monk’s piercing eyes on you. He held eye contact for a moment longer, before looking down at his bound hands in defeat. It was obvious that he would rather not talk about it, would probably prefer to leave the boy with you and ride away on his own, but he knew that there was no other way out of this situation now.

 “I.. there was a fey knight, that.. that I captured.” He started, closing his eyes for a moment. “He had seen what you had seen, seen my hand mimic the leaves. He recognised what I am, but he didn’t tell anyone about it, did not expose me. When I asked him why, he just said that all fey were brothers, even.. even the lost ones.” The monk was silent for a moment, but you all felt that he was not done. Squirrel watched him intently as he spoke. “This knight, he said many things. Things that seemed to ring true, things that made me.. question. Question, like I had never before, I..” he let out a shaking breath. “I realised that he was right.”

 “And where is this knight now?” Morrigan asked, tilting her head. “Who is he?”

 “I don’t know.” The monk answered. “They called him the green knight.”

 Morrigan huffed, shaking her head in disbelief.

 “His name is Gwain! He is our greatest warrior, and he saved many fey, bringing them to Nemos! He made me a knight too!” Squirrel suddenly spoke up, causing Morrigan to look over to him, her stance less defensive now.

 “Gwain? I know him.” She then said, even if a bit reluctantly. “I met him a few years back, on his travels. He needed some of his weapons sharpened. He is a good man.”

 “So finally talking to someone from you own kind made you realise that we are also just people.” You said, raising an eyebrow. The monk returned his attention to you.  

 He shook his head.

“It was more than that. I had.. doubts before, doubts I thought were my failure. His words just.. made it all make sense.”

 “How did you end up like this?” you asked. “How did you end up as the right hand in our destruction.”

 Your choice of words were harsh, you knew that, but you also knew that now was not the time to sweeten your words, that now was the time to ask the tough questions.

 “Father Carden.. he spared me, when they burned my home. I was just a boy, and he.. he knew about my ability to sense other fey.” He started. His eyes went towards the fire, and it was obvious that he was not really looking at the flames, but past them, seeing images of his early life that he would rather like to forget. There was a pained expression on his face. “Father Carden told me that I was damned, devil born. That he would lead me to the road of salvation. He taught me to read, gave me scriptures to learn by heart, taught me how to fight. He made me hate the fey with burning passion, while keeping my own origins a secret. He told me that my suffering would cleanse me of the sin of being born fey.” He pursed his lips.

 “Oh, gods.” Leofyn clasped her hands in front of her mouth, a shocked expression in her green eyes.

 There was silence around the fire for a moment, no one quite wanting to imagine what kind of suffering the monks had made him suffer through. His face told them enough.

 “As much as I hate to admit it, I believe him.” Morrigan was surprisingly the first one to speak up. “The Ash folk were known for their ability to sense other fey, and I certainly don’t think it was beyond them to steal a child, and brainwash it to believe the hogwash they tell it.”

 Everyone looked up at her a bit shocked, but she had a grim expression on her face.

“Nevertheless..” she then added, axe still in her hands. “I am not convinced that a simple conversation with a knight, however noble Gwain was, could truly change him. Not yet at least. And killing a few of his brothers is not enough for me.”

 “Morrigan is right, I’m afraid.” Calder nodded. “Years of teaching are not easily undone. He probably does not even remember much from our own culture, his own culture.”

 “So, what do you suppose we do now?” Leofyn got up, walking over to the horses to run her hands through the mane of her mare, to calm herself down a bit.

 “He is kin, one way of the other. Probably the last of the Ash folk.” You said slowly, your eyes staring into the flames again. You didn’t want to face the monk right now, and also none of your friends. “And he is a good fighter, from what we have heard about him. Having him on our side could increase our chances of survival, as much as I hate to admit it. We could teach him our ways, remind him of what he has forgotten.”

 “The choice is his.” Edwyn looked over to the monk, who just stared at you in surprise. “As much as I would hate it, he can take the boy and leave. Or the two can stay, on our conditions. And we teach him what we know. If he wants that.”

 “I do.” The monk said, so silently it was hard to hear his words over the howling of the wind. This time he looked surprised by his own admission.

 There was a long moment of silence, with only the boy smiling up at the monk, who seemed as if he was not sure how to handle this expression.

You and your friends all shared a look. It was difficult to make a big decision like this, as there was no established leader in your group, no one to take charge. Ever since you had fled the destruction of your village a few weeks ago, you had just decided things together. It had been fine, you and your childhood friends on the run, but now you needed someone to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Everyone knew that the one to make the decision, would also be the one who had to take the responsibility for whatever the outcome was.

 “You can come with us, then.” Calder said, throwing a quick glance in your direction. You nodded. “And learn our ways.”

 “But do not think you are just fine to move freely as you like, not yet!” Morrigan glared at him. “Your hands will remain bound, for now, and we will tie you to a tree at night. These are the conditions for now, until you have proven yourself to be trustworthy.”

 Calder nodded at her words, before looking back at the monk.

“You have to understand that we can’t just trust your word. Not after what we’ve been through.”

 The monk kept silent for a while, before he simply nodded.

 -----

The night felt endless, and it was obvious that after what had happened, none of you really managed to find any rest. When you went over to Morrigan, for her to take over the watch, she was still wide awake, a grim expression on her face.

 You also had a hard time falling asleep, images of the slaughter of the Ash folk haunting your mind, images from when you had found had heard the screams, and found the remains of their village hours later, their bodies and homes burned.

The name Lancelot did not sound familiar, but you wondered if you had known him back then, when you had been a child. He seemed around your age, and you and your friends had often played with the Ash folk children in the forest and at the loch that bordered both of your homes.

 Those weeping eyes, you had forgotten them. They looked so different now on the face of the enemy, half hidden underneath a hood, instead of your friends’ laughing faces. You groaned, turning onto your back, as your mind was running, trying to remember a child that had a similar face as the man you had met tonight.

 At dawn, all of you got up quietly, packed up the camp and stomped our the remainders of the small fire. The only one who had seemed to have found any sleep was Squirrel, the child probably exhausted from what he had gone through these past days. He blinked at you through hooded eyes, when Edwyn woke him up.

 Leofyn handed out a bit of food to everyone, a small piece of slightly stale bread and a small apple, which had to be enough until you found a river to fish in, or spotted game to hunt. With two more mouths to feed now, you were afraid that the small rations you had would not last for very long.

 Everyone climbed on horseback, Squirrel, despite his protests at first, riding with Edwyn, and you slowly made your way further south, the sun rising to your left. The wind had gladly died down a bit, but the morning was still quite cold.

 “Do you understand what ‘Born in the Dawn, to pass in the Twilight’ means?” you asked after the group of you had ridden for an hour or two, your horse walking beside the dark animal of the monk. The sooner you would start with teaching him your ways, the better, you thought.

 There was a moment of silence between you, and for a moment you thought that he would not answer at all, until he finally spoke up.

“No.”

 It saddened you, that he wasn’t even aware of the most basic things of your people, the simplest sentence every child could recite.

 “We believe that we were the first, to walk the earth. The very first spirits to be created. This is what we mean, when we say ‘born in the dawn’. We were born in the dawn of the world.” You started, mustering him. His eyes were on the road, his face half hidden behind his large hood. “’To pass in the twilight’ denotes our connection to the hidden.”

 “What is the hidden?” you heard the monk ask, his low voice somewhat shy. He still didn’t look at you.

 “Spirits of nature. The Sky folk say that they are direct decedent from the hidden, which is why they have such a strong connection to them. But all fey are somewhat connected to them, some more and some less. This is what gives us our magic.” You raised your hand, producing a dancing flame between your fingers, catching Lancelot’s eye.

 “How do you know, if you have a connection?” he asked with a frown, looking down at his bound hands. “And do you see the hidden as your gods?”

 You were glad that he asked questions, that he seemed to be interested of his own accord. You would have hated to have to lecture him, not knowing if he took in anything you said.

 “To answer your second question first, no. The hidden are not gods. As I said, they are spirits of nature, to which we fey have a connection to. See them more as.. ancestors, watching over us, and supporting us. We have to go into ourselves, to feel them. It can take time, but it is always possible. We also have our gods, many gods. Good ones, bad ones.. and everything in between. But that is a topic for another day.” You smiled carefully.

 “Father Carden told me that I had to fight the fey, to feel the grace of god.” Lancelot said, and your smile dropped.

 “Well, he was wrong.” You said with a slat voice, causing the man to turn his head towards you. “You didn’t feel his grace, because their god is not real.”

 The monk squinted his eyes at you.

“How do you know I never felt his grace?”

 “Well, have you?” you challengingly raised an eyebrow, mustering his face.

 Lancelot stared at you for a whole with pursed lips, before averting his gaze. You huffed, a smile forming on your lips again.

 “As I said.” You clicked your tongue, a command for your horse to speed up a bit, so you were able to catch up with Leofyn riding in front of you.

 You felt Lancelot’s eyes like daggers in your back, but you also knew that you had helped him take the first step back to who he was supposed to be. It would take time, you knew, and it would not be easy to undo all the years, all the damage the church had done to him. But you believed that it was possible.

 ------

 The days went by, the weather ever changing. It grew colder and the leaves started to fall from the trees, providing less cover from both the elements, and possible prying eyes. You travelled most of the day through the forests, trying to avoid roads and open plains, always going south and only stopping for one or two hours at the time, to hunt and eat. When it grew dark, you made camp to sleep, getting back on horseback as soon as it dawned.

It was not always possible to find shelter from the rain, and being damp and cold was your everyday reality by now.

 Morrigan had started to train the young boy, who had finally admitted that his real name was Percival and not Squirrel, after the boy had begged all of you to make him the knight he ought to be. You guessed, as Morrigan indeed knew the knight who had knighted the boy, that she felt that it was her responsibility to teach him what she knew.

 Morrigan was a good fighter, one of the best you had ever met. She had been the blacksmith of your home, had taken over the profession from her mother, and her grandmother before that. When you had been teenagers, she had forged her first swords, blunt once, so you could practice together safely. Which of course did not mean that you did not suffer many bruises, and two broken fingers over the years from these blunt swords.

 You and Edwyn took turns, telling Lancelot about your culture and history, challenging the believes that the Christians had beaten into him. The evenings the man spent in contemplation, and where you had spotted him praying to the Christian god in the first few nights that he was with your group, you were relieved when he had stopped, instead leaning against the tree he was usually bound to at night, staring up into the orange leaves above him.

 You were sitting at the campfire, after everyone had just finished their meagre meals, as so often staring into the flames and making them dance with your magic, noticing how Lancelot’s blue eyes watched as well, from his spot on the opposite side of the fire. You were not sure if it was a good idea, making him see what you so casually could do, when you were not entirely sure if he had already stopped to think of you as devils and demons. Before you could entertain the thought further, Calder sat down next to you.

 “The nights are getting colder. We need to find a place to stay, if we want to survive the winter.” He said in a low voice, so that only you could hear him. Calder had established himself more and more as the leader of your group, and you supposed it was not different back when you were children. He was just a year older than the rest of you, but when you had played pretend in the forests as children, everyone had always looked at him to be told what to do, or where to go.

 He of course never made decisions all by himself, never had. Just as back in the day when you were children, he asked each of you what you thought about things, sought out your council, never blindly guiding you somewhere you didn’t want to go. He most often came to speak to you, though, which made sense, as you two had grown up together, and were almost like siblings. Your families had been close friends, and you saw each other as family.

 “I know. I don’t think we will reach Cornwall before Samhain, not with the pace we have now.” You sighed, resting your arms on your knees.

 “If we hurry, we might reach it a week or two after, but frankly, I don’t want to risk it, not with the boy. Morrigan and I want to scout out tomorrow, to see if we can find some caves or something similar, to make a more permanent camp for the time being. To wait out the winter and travel on come spring.” He sighed. “Though I am not sure what is more dangerous: you all remaining here, where you could be attacked, or you keep moving further south, risking us not finding you again.” He pursed his lips.

 “Neither sounds appealing, if I am honest. But with all of us, you would be slowed down.” You nodded at the many saddle bags next to the horses, containing everything you had managed to save of salvage from the red paladins.

 “You are a very skilled fighter, and Edwyn is also not half bad. I’d rather know where you are, than go looking for you.” Calder said after a few moments of silence and you nodded.

 “We should still move a bit, away from the camp here and find a more secluded spot. Maybe travel and hour or two together in the morning before we part ways.” You suggested, and now it was Calder who nodded.

 “Good idea.” He said before getting up. He walked over to Morrigan, who was with the horses, to discuss the plan for the next day.

 “What were you talking about?” a voice caused you to turn your head to the other side, where Percival was sitting. You had not noticed him approaching you, let alone sitting down right next to you. The boy was as silent as a mouse, if he wanted to be.

 “Calder and Morrigan will ride out tomorrow, to look for a place to spend the winter.” You explained to him. “We will go with them for a bit, and then make camp, so they will find us again.”

 “Sitting in one place for so long, won’t that be dangerous?” the boy tilted his head at you. You nodded.

 “Yes, but it also means that the others can find us again when we return.” You crossed your legs, turning a bit more towards the boy. “But with a knight like you and a fighter like me, we can best anything that would dare to attack us.” You grinned.

 “You are a fighter?” the boy’s eyes grew big.

 “Oh yes!” you put your hand onto the sword at your side. “My parents were both fey knights, protectors of our village. They taught me from a young age. Morrigan and I used to practice a lot together, and I think you already got a taste of her skill, no?”

 Percival seemed both impressed and relieved that he was at least in good hands, when you had to stay put. He smiled, before his expression got serious again.

 “Was Morrigan named after The Morrigan, because she is a warrior, or did she just become like that because she was named after the war god?” he asked looking over at the tall woman.

 “I’ve asked myself the same thing, you know.” You had to grin. “You should go to bed now.” You than added, glad that the boy just nodded and went over to where a few blankets were waiting for him.

 You were not sure how far from civilisation you already were, how far from the roads, and most importantly, how far from the next red paladin patrol. You were still not southern enough, to escape their influence, and had stumbled over more than a few remains of fey wandering the forests, alarming you that the monks were indeed patrolling this area. They seemed to be everywhere, even in the most remote areas, jumping out of the bushes wherever one went.

But on the other hand, now with their sniffing dog gone, maybe they would not find you so easily.

 You felt a bit bad, comparing the poor man to a dog in your mind, but that was exactly how he had been used by the Christians. To sniff out his own kind and hunt them down. Thinking about it made you both want to rip his throat out, and wrap him into your arms, to tell him that it was all over now. Which was a really weird mix of feelings, you had to admit that.

 -------

 The next morning you got up before dawn, stomped out the fire and got on horseback, riding south. Percival was asleep in Edwyn’s arms, having fallen asleep almost as soon as he had been seated in the saddle. When the sun finally edged over the horizon, Calder and Morrigan said their goodbyes, kicking their horses’ sides and galloping on further, while the rest of you made camp, hidden in a small grove between thick bushes, and a small waterfall.

 The horses went grazing, munching away on what little begetation was still green, while Leofyn and Edwyn started to pull the bags off their backs, to set up camp. You scouted the surroundings, to make sure that there was not already someone close by, and that you were far enough from roads or settlements. You also made your way a bit more upstream, filling everyone’s waterskins in the small creek, after you had made sure the water was more or less clean. You put the waterskins back into the large bag you were carrying them in, before returning to the camp.

  When you arrived, you found Percival awake, in the centre of the camp, a stick in his hand, moving it like a sword, while Lancelot gave him instructions, sitting with his back against some rocks next to the waterfall, his bound hands in his lap. He was still wearing his hood, and you had to admit that you had never seen him without it. You wondered why he never took it off.

 “No, stretch your arms out, or else they can be pushed down easily.” Lancelot said, as the boy held his stick in a lower, defensive guard.

 “Like this.” You came up behind the boy, correcting his position carefully by guiding his arms. You rounded him, pulling your own sword from your sheath, and demonstrated the correct grip and stance. “And from here you can do many things, while the position of the blade covers you. You can thrust like this, or cut, or strike.” You demonstrated a few movements. “Personally, I prefer to thrust.”

 “Why?” Percival asked, trying to copy what you had just shown him.

 “It is quick and deadly, especially if your opponent is unarmoured.” You made a few elegant routines with your sword, swinging it through the air in practiced moves, before taking the same guard as before. “If he tries to strike you, you parry, move your sword and thrust. If done right, it can be very effective, especially against unexperienced or tired opponents.”

 “What else can you do?” the boy stared up at you with big eyes, causing you to laugh.

 “Oh, many things! When we find a place to stay for the winter, Morrigan and I will show you all of them. Then, come spring, you will be a lot closer to being a true knight.” You winked, sheathing your sword again. You pulled out one of the waterskins from the bag around your shoulders, throwing it at Percival, before throwing another one at Lancelot, who caught it with his bound hands. There was an odd expression on his face that you could not really place, so you quickly turned towards Leofyn and Edwyn, who were close to the horses.

 You felt quite bad for the two of them, as they had initially intended to join their lives, right at the time when the paladins had destroyed your village. They had been together since they were teenagers, and finally wanted to start a family of their own.

 “I hope they are safe.” Leofyn said, as you handed her the remaining waterskins. She shook her head slightly. “The thought of losing them.. no, I could not bear it.”

 “They will be alright. Morrigan is a berserker, nothing will cut her down, you know that.” You smiled, putting a hand on your friend’s shoulder.

 “Oh, I know, I know. You are right.” A sad smile was on her lips, and she petted your hand a few times, before sitting down next to Edwyn, resting her head against his shoulder. You nodded, before turning away again, wanting to give them some privacy.

 So back to the kid and the monk it was, then, you thought.

With a sigh you wandered over to them, sitting down with your back to the rocks as well, though in a safe distance from Lancelot. Both of you kept watching Percival, as he spun around, trying his best to follow the instructions the two of you had given him. You hoped that he would tire himself out quickly, so that the rest of you could have a moment of tranquillity to yourselves.

 “Tell me about.. our home.” Lancelot’s voice broke the silence between you, and you head turned towards him. His blue eyes mustered you, his expression one full of sadness. You looked down at your hands for a moment, trying to recollect what you remembered. Your grandmother had never gotten over having to move south, so she always recollected stories and talked about people, so you never quite forgot the few years you spent in Scotland.

 “Be aware, I was quite young myself, when this happened.” You started with a sigh. “Well, our villages were located north, in the glens of Scotland. There was a forest between us, and a lock. There was a lot of trade between the Ash and the Fire folk, and we children met up often, paying in the forests or in the water, were up to all kinds of shenanigans. I wonder if we knew each other back then.” You finally looked up, studying his face, to see if any of this sounded familiar.

 “I remember a lake. I remember the fishermen being angry because we scared away the fish.” Lancelot frowned. You had to grin.

 “Yes! Yes, they would try and hush us away! But we would just steal their ale and run.” You had to laugh, and Lancelot grinned as well.

 “Yes, I.. I remember that.” He looked quite surprised by that.

 “We celebrated our ceremonies together, the Ash and the Fire folk. We met on one of the hills, where our temple was. We celebrated Samhain, which we would celebrate in a few weeks, actually, the beginning of winter. We celebrated Imbolc, the beginning of spring, Beltane, the beginning of summer and Lughnasadh, the beginning of the harvest season. Do you remember?” your voice was full of excitement. It was the first time that the man seemed to remember his past, remember what came before the monks and the Christians, and you wanted to latch onto that. Most of what you and Edwyn had told him until now were general stories about the gods and old heroes, but you realised that starting with simple things, like things you did as children, were maybe better to jock his memory.

 Lancelot pursed his lips, his frown deepening as he stared onto the leaf covered ground. He picked up one of the leaves, his skin starting to turn red and orange, his blue eyes watching the change.

“I remember.. I remember a hill. With tall stones.” He started.

 “The temple.” You said, nodding enthusiastically.

 “I remember holding my mother’s hand.. she told me that there would be a feast after, and that I had to behave.” One of the corners of his mouth raised slightly, as he turned the leaf between his fingers. “I remember being very bored.” He then added, looking up at you.

 You had to laugh at his words, and a real smile also formed on his face. You realised that this was the first time you had seen the man smile. It was a beautiful smile, from a beautiful man.

 “This’ our time, the night’s our day.” You started, mustering his face intently.

 “We’ll dance this fading life away.” He ended the rhyme, part of a song sung during the Samhain festivities, again looking very surprised by himself. Then, his smile grew sad, and he looked down at the ground again, his hood covering his face. “To think.. that I destroyed so many of us.” He said silently, shaking his head. “Thinking that I was doing the right thing.”

 “Isn’t that something the Christians always talk about? Atone for your sins, or something like that?” you said, not knowing if that was even correct. You did not know much about their religion, only that they worshipped a guy, killed in the most painful way possible, and whatever the paladins yelled when they were slaughtering your kind. But Lancelot nodded.

 “I thought that killing fey would wash the sin away.” His voice was pained.

 “Being born fey is not a sin.” You sin, your eyes mustering his slumped form. You hated the whole concept of ‘sin’, it was something that did originally not exist in your culture.

 “I know that.. now.” He let his head drop against the stones behind him. “But it won’t bring any of them back.”

 You could not argue with that.

“It won’t bring them back, no. And it won’t undo the horrors you have created. Assessing how much of that was your fault is not a simple black and white matter, and frankly, I don’t think trying to figure it out would be particularly useful.” You sighed, pulling your legs to your chest. “What is important now for you is to change. To renounce the lies you were fed and to find back to what you are. Who you are.”

 There was silence between you for a moment, both of you simply watching Percival, who was still practicing with his stick, completely oblivious to your conversation.

 “Your magic.. what can it do?” Lancelot suddenly spoke up again, and you had to look over to him once more.

 “Many things. Some people can do more than others. Why?” you frowned a bit. He had told you about the ash storm the Wolf-Blood-Witch had conjured up a few days ago, and considering that he was Ash folk and the rest of you were Fire folk, he wondered if you too would be capable of such things.

 “Can it heal?” he asked instead, catching you a bit off guard, his expression undecipherable.

 “Leofyn can heal with magic. She also used to be the healer of our village.” You said, nodding towards your friend. “Are you injured? Is that why you keep your hood up?” you had not forgotten the blood on his face, that he had since washed off. It had only been two weeks since he and the boy had joined you, and if he had been seriously injured, his wounds would not have healed yet.

 Lancelot took a deep breath, staring at the ground.

“Yes. But that is not why I’m asking.” His words confused you, but before you could ask anything else, he had raised his hand, and pulled his hood from his head.

 His hair was greasy and dishevelled, a look all of you shared after such a long time on the run. It was long, and tied up to a knot in his neck. But there, right on the crown of is scalp, you saw something that made your breath hitch in your throat.

 You had seen it on the heads of the paladins too, but for some reason it had not occurred to you that he would bear the same mark. A bald spot, with a cross deeply cut into his flesh. For some reason it did not look like an old scar, even though you were certain that it must’ve been there fore years. You didn’t even want to think about why it looked so fresh.

 “Can she heal this?” Lancelot asked, facing you, and you could see the pain in his eyes. “I don’t want to have this mark on my boy any longer.”

 You could not supress the utter pity that was written across your face. You nodded quickly and got up, hurrying over to Leofyn, who was silently talking with Edwyn. When they saw you approach, both of the looked up to you.

 “Leo, he needs your help.” Was all you could say, as you stretched our your trembling hand, and pulled the other woman to her feet. She nodded, and followed you, her eyes growing wide as she too spotted the cross on the young man’s head.

 “By all the gods!” she exclaimed, taking a step back. Percival, a frown on his face, lowered his stick in confusion.

 Leofyn took a deep breath, her expression turning from shocked to determined. She knelt down in front of the monk, pushing up the sleeves of her tunic.

“Lower your head. Yes, like that. This will hurt.” She simply said, before putting her hands onto the cross, her eyes closing and her lips starting to move.

 You had seen her like this often, had seen her heal with her magic many times before, but Percival, who stared at her with an open mouth, had definitely not. Leofyn started to glow from the inside, as if there was a fire burning right in her core. One could see the shadows of her bones through her skin, as she emanated a warm, orange light. A pained groan left Lancelot’s lips.

 Percival dropped his stick, wanting to run over to him, but you reacted quickly, managing to grab his shoulders to pull him back. You keeled down beside him, your arms still wrapped around him.

 “She is healing him. But fire burns.” Was all you said, as both of you watched Leofyn glow even brighter, and Lancelot’s breathing turn into a hiss.

 And then, just like that, it was over. The glowing subsided, and Leofyn pulled her hands back, a smile on her face. The cross was gone, not even leaving a scar. The hair would soon grow back, given some time. Leofyn looked exhausted, healing a wound to thoroughly had drained her.

 “It is alright.” Leofyn’s voice was soft, and Lancelot looked up at her, his face red and his breath still ragged.

 “Thank you.” Lancelot finally found his voice again, but Leofyn just smiled.

 “Welcome home.” She simply said.

 The woman sighed, before she got up, leaning on Edwyn who had also come over. He half carried her back to where they were sitting, letting her lean against him, wrapped up in his arms.

 ------

 The sun was high in the sky, and Edwyn had taken Percival to hunt for rabbits, the bounty of their efforts being enough to feed all of them for two days. The boy had also found a few berries and a pear tree, enabling you to stock up on as much fruit as your horses could carry.

 Lancelot had fallen asleep, after the wound on his head had been healed, and you were glad that he could finally find some rest. You had noticed that, at least every time you had held watch at night, he had been wide awake.

 You had wrapped yourself up in your cloak and blanket, the ground and the rock behind you cold, despite the sunshine. The sound of the waterfall was intensely calming, and you felt yourself almost dozing off too, when suddenly you could hear an unnatural rustling of the leaves. Your eyes flew wide open, and you were on your feet a moment later, your cloak falling onto the ground behind you, and your sword in your hand.

 Edwyn and Leofyn startled, when they saw you jump up, but seeing our expressions they too got up and drew their weapons. Edwyn threw his hunting bow and quiver over to a frightened looking Percival. You moved a finger in front of your mouth, a sign for the others to keep quiet, before you slowly moved away from the rocks and the creek, and towards where the bushes and foliage around you opened up, so you could look into the forest.

 You held your breath, when from between the trees you spotted a group of red paladins, two on horseback, riding through the forest, one in the front, looking at the ground, apparently searching for tracks. They were already quite close, and in a minute or so they would probably pass your hiding spot. It was hard to make out how many of them were there, but you guessed around a dozen or so.

 You looked back at the others, nodding once, and gesturing the number of paladins you estimated to the others, before stepping a bit back to get more cover. Percival picked up the bow and the arrows, before shaking Lancelot’s leg to wake him up.

 The steps of the paladins grew louder, and you tried your best to keep your breathing even, raising your sword. As soon as you spotted just an inch of red fabric, your struck with your blade, hitting the monk right in the neck and cutting him open. Shouting immediately followed, as you kicked the gurling man in the stomach, so his body fell back and onto one of his brothers.

 The horses got spooked, and started to kick, and you used it as a distraction to round the group, your sword in front of you, to guard you from any attacks, in exactly the manner you had taught Percival just hours before.

 Edwyn jumped out of the bushes behind the group, thrusting his short sword in the back of one of them, and using his small shield to block an attack. You also parried the attack of a monk charging at you, using his momentum to your advantage by simply side-stepping, letting his sword glide down yours and cutting him right in the shoulder when he moved past you.

 You managed to get your sword up just in time to parry another strike, letting go of the hilt with one hand, to grab your own blade and quickly turning your sword, to pommel the paladin right in the face. A loud crack confirmed that you had just broken his jaw.

 You turned around to attack another of them, who stormed towards you with his sword raised, but suddenly an arrow pierced him right through the neck, and he fell down in front of your feet. Behind him you could see Percival, looking amazed and afeard at the same time, bow in hand.

 You only had a moment to nod at him, before you engaged another red paladin, this one quicker and obviously more experienced. He was able to counter some of your attacks, until you managed to parry, and hinder his stroke by setting aside his blade, and thrusting right into his chest. Sweat was running down your face and you felt a cut that had not seemed so deep on your arm to start to throb. Your left hand also felt slippery, the sword having cut through your fingerless gloves and into your hand. When you had gripped it earlier. You didn’t have time to wipe off your hands on your clothes.

 You struck the sword of a paladin to the side, wanting to go in with a thrust, when a sword cut through his neck from behind, cleanly decapitating the man, who limply fell to the ground now. In front of you was Lancelot, who had apparently picked up one of the other monks’ swords, and had cut his hands free. He nodded at you, before he turned, cutting through another man in red with elegance you had never seen before. The stories of his skill had definitely been true, although your thought his twists and turns were a bit excessive.

 It was over as sudden as it had began, and from one moment to the next, there was silence around you. The last man-blood was dead on the ground, their blood seeping into the earth and the water of the creek.

 You wiped your sweat off your face, only to remember that your hand was still bleeding, and you were just smearing it all over you. Edwyn also seemed to be lightly wounded, but he spit on the corpse of one of the monks, before sheathing his sword.

 Lancelot was looking around himself, and down at his dead brothers, looking a bit as if he was having an existential crisis, that you really did not have the patience to deal with right now.

 “We have to move.” Was all your said. “That blook will be seen by someone eventually.” You nodded at the creek.

 “I agree. We should go north-west. It will bring us away from the stream, but not too far so that we won’t be found.” Edwyn nodded, starting to pack up whatever you had taken off the horses, and making sure the rabbits and the foraged food were safely packed up.

 You went over to the water, washing your face and hand, before wrapping a piece of cloth around your palm, and arm.

 “I will make some markings.” Leofyn said, more to herself than anyone else. “Come Squirrel, help me with it.” She pulled Percival with her, as she started to gather twigs and other flora, to create fey symbols out of them, for the others to find, to tell them where you went.

 You knelt at the at the creek for a moment longer, before you got up and started to pull the arrows out of the paladins’ bodies. You also searched them for anything useful. Gladly their horses had not gone far, and you managed to find some food, some ale, and some parchment with maps and instructions, which you promptly burned in your hand.

Freed of their saddles and bags, you sent the horses off, to run into a different direction than where the paladins had come from.

 When you returned to the others, handing over your findings to Edwyn, you noticed that Lancelot had watched you.

 “Want to say something?” you asked, maybe a bit more challenging than you had intended to. But your heartbeat was still fast, blood still rushing through your ears.

 “No.” he frowned, his face confused, as he stretched out his hand, the pommel of the sword he was holding pointing in your direction. But you just shook your head.

 “No, keep it. I think you have proven yourself today to be trustworthy, and you are a lot more useful with a sword in your hand than tied up, should we be attacked again.” You were not sure if it was a wise decision, but it was the first thing that came to mind. He also seemed to be surprised at your words.

 Lancelot nodded, before walking over to one of the many bodies on the ground, removing a sheath and a belt from one of them, to secure the sword on his waist.

 A few minutes later, everyone was ready, and the markings had been placed where your camp had been just moments ago.

‘Riding north-west’ the markings said.

 “So that is what those symbols mean.” Lancelot said, as you got onto your horses, and a smirk appeared on your face.

 “So much culture, hm? Let’s make sure it’s not forgotten, eh?” with that, you started to ride.

[firemanwhenthefloodsrollback]

things i would have liked to see in season 7 as resolution to character arcs

gonna start by saying i genuinely don't dislike season seven. sure i find the potentials annoying, which is a universal emotion everyone who's ever seen the show shares, but I really do like it overall. aside from the potentials and that one english accent that poisons my dreams every night, there isn't much i'd remove but there is stuff i'd love to add to make the season three times as long. including:

- i'd like to see buffy reading or doing something casually academic. after dropping out of college and not being able to rejoin in season six, it wasn't realistic or necessary for her to rejoin college in season seven, but i'd have liked to see something. buffy was clever and loved learning when she didn't have pressure on her or other places to be, and in a season about her growing up, learning how to balance putting pressure on herself and knowing her strengths, one scene of her losing herself in a book or enjoying signing up to a casual evening class could have been such a nice tiny moment. an older, mature verison of buffy could read for fun and not always be running late for a test or failing to do homework for other people.

- willow makes practical amends in some way. i love willow's character arc but i'd have liked to see more than her visiting tara's grave once and learning a lot in england. i'd like for this to include magic now that she knows magic has to be a part of her life going forwards, maybe she does some good works in tara's name magically around the city she tried to destroy.

- characters other than willow mentioning tara, and tbh willow mentioning her more. tara was both an important person in everyone's lives and a powerful symbol of what so many characters were lacking in season six and aiming for in season seven. she's all of your patron saints. acknowledge her.

- something with xander's family. not a neat bow on it but some kind of resolution to his relationship with them, either a positive moment with some member of his family in some way or him divorcing himself from them and confidently approaching becoming his own person. i don't want hells bells to be the last word we got on his relationship with his family.

- chat about other characters who have died or left. in a series about understanding your place in the world and going full circle, we needed to talk about more than just joyce. i want to see poignant conversations about kendra, ms calendar, oz, cordelia, faith (before she turns up, like they weren't expecting her soo).

[him-e]

what did you think of shadow and bone? have you read the books? i only read the duology

Thoughts on Shadow and Bone, now that you've probably seen it?

I think the show is alright? It lacks a real wow factor as far as I’m concerned, but it’s enjoyable. It’s especially enjoyable in those parts I didn’t anticipate to like / didn’t even know would be there. 

Whereas the main selling points leave a lot to be desired.

The good stuff: the visuals. The aesthetic. The overall concept. Production, casting and costumes are excellent, the setting is fascinating. The worldbuilding isn’t perfect and is sometimes confusing, which is probably due to the show jumping ahead of the books and introducing elements that happen much later in the book saga, but I’m loving the vague steampunk-y vibe of it mixed with more typical fantasy stuff and slavic-inspired lore, the fact that it’s set in dystopian Russia rather than your usual ye olde England.

I find it interesting that in this ‘verse the Grisha are simultaneously superstars, privileged elite, legendary creatures and despised outcasts, according to the context and the type of magic they wield. It’s A Lot, and so far it’s all a bit underdeveloped and messy, like a patchwork of different narratives and tropes sewn together without an organic worldbuilding structure. (there are hints to a past when they were hunted, but how did they go from that to being, essentially, an institutionalized asset to the government isn’t clear yet. There’s huge narrative potential in this, and I hope future seasons will delve into those aspects)

Many of the supporting characters are surprisingly solid. I appreciated that Genya and Zoya eventually sort of traded places, subverting the audience’s assumptions about them and their own character stereotypes, despite the little screentime they were given.

Breakout characters/ships for me were Nina/Matthias, and even more so the Crows, i.e. the stuff I didn’t see coming and knew nothing about (having only read the first book). (I thought the entire Crows subplot was handled in a somewhat convoluted way, at least in the first episodes; it was hard to keep track of who wanted Alina and why, but the Crows’ chemistry is so strong it carried the whole Plot B on its shoulders).

HELNIK. As an enemies to lovers dynamic, Helnik was SUPER on the nose, I’d say bordering on clichéd with the unapologetic, straight outta fanfiction use of classic tropes like “we need to team up to survive” and “there’s only one bed and we’ll freeze to death if we don’t take our conveniently damp clothes off and keep each other warm with the heat of our naked bodies” (not that I’m complaining, but i like to pine for my ships a bit before getting to the juicy tropetown part, tyvm). And then they’re suddenly on opposite sides again because of a tragic misunderstanding - does Bardugo hate high-conflict dynamics? It certainly seems so, because between Helnik and Darklina I’m starting to see a pattern where the slow burn and blossoming mutual trust is rushed and painted in broad, stereotypical strokes to get as fast as possible to the part where they *hate each other again* and that’s... huh. Something.

^That’s probably why I’m almost more interested in Kaz x Inej, because their relationship feels a bit more nuanced, a bit more mysterious, and a bit more unpredictable. (I didn’t bother spoiling myself about them, so I really don’t know where they’re going, but it’s refreshing to see a dynamic that the narrative isn’t scrambling to define in one direction or the other as quickly as possible)

-

Now, as for Darklina VS Malina... I found exactly what I expected. 

Both are ship dynamics I’m, on principle, very much into (light heroine/dark villain, pining friends to lovers) but both are also much less interesting than they claim to be, or could have been with different narrative choices. I’ll concede that the show characters are all more fleshed out and likable than their book counterparts, and the cringe parts I vaguely remembered from the books played out differently. And, well, Ben Barnes dominates the scene, he’s hot as HELL, literally every single second he’s on screen is a fuck you to Bardugo’s attempts to make his character lame and uninteresting and I’m LOVING it, lol.

But yeah, B Barnes aside, Darklina is intrinsically, deliberately made to be unshippable. 

It makes me mad, because it’s - archetypally speaking - made of shipping dynamite: yin/yang-sun and moon, opposites attract, COMPLEMENTARY POWERS AND SO ON. And what does Bardugo do with these ingredients? A FUCKING DELIBERATE DISASTER:

^ Placing the kiss so early on (season 1, episode five) effectively kills the romantic tension that was (correctly) building up until that point, and leaves the audience very little to still hope for, in terms of emotional evolution of the dynamic. 

Bardugo lays all the good stuff down as early and quickly as possible (the bonding, the conflicted attraction, the recognizing the other as one’s equal, etc) only to turn the tables and pull the rug so y’all sick creepyshippers won’t have anything to look forward to, because THEY’VE ALREADY HOOKED UP AND THAT BELONGS TO THE PAST, IT’S OVER, THEY’RE ENEMIES. This, combined to the fact that she falls for him *without* knowing who he really is, is the opposite of what I want from a heroine/villain ship (it’s basically lovers to enemies, and while that can be valid too, I wanted to see more pining and more prolonged, tormented symbolic attraction to the Shadow/Animus on Alina’s part). 

But here’s the trick: it’s not marketed as lovers to enemies - it has all the aesthetics and trappings of an enemies to lovers (the Darkling is, from the get go, villain-presenting, starting from his name), so it genuinely feels like a trollfic, or at the very least a cautionary tale *against* shipping the heroine with the tall dark brooding young villain, and I don’t think it’s cool at all. It makes the story WAY less interesting, because it humanizes the villain early on (when it’s not yet useful or poignant to the story, because it’s unearned) but it’s a red herring. The real plot twist is that the villain shouldn’t be sympathized with, just defeated: there’s a promise of nuanced storytelling, that is quickly denied and tossed aside. So is the idea of incorporating your Shadow (a notion that Bardugo must be familiar with, otherwise she wouldn’t have structured Alina and the Darkling as polar opposites who complement each other, but that she categorically refutes)

Then we have Malina. The good ship.

Look, I’m not that biased against it. I don’t want to be biased on principle against a friends to lovers dynamic that antagonizes a heroine/villain one, because every narrative is different, and for personal reasons I can deeply relate to the idea of being (unspeakably) in love with your best friend. So there are aspects of Malina that I can definitely be into, but it troubles me that in this specific context it’s framed as a regression. It’s Alina’s comfort zone, a fading dream of happiness from an idealized childhood, to sustain which the heroine systematically stunts her growth and literally repressed her own powers, something that in the books made her sickly and weak. But the narrative weirdly romanticizes this codependency, often making her tunnel vision re: going back to Mal her primary goal and centering on him her entire backstory/motivation, to the point that when she starts acting more serious re: her powers and alleged mission to destroy the Fold, it feels inorganic and unearned. 

Mal is intrinsically extraneous to Alina’s powers, he doesn’t share them, he doesn’t understand them, he has little to offer to help her with them, and so the feeling is that he’s also extraneous to her heroine’s journey, aside from being a sort of sidekick or safe harbor to eventually come back to. People have compared him to Raoul from Phantom of the Opera, and yeah, he has the same ~magic neutralizer~ vibe, tbh.

The narrative also polarizes Mal’s normalcy and relative “safety” against Aleksander’s sexy evil, framing Alina’s quasi-platonic fixation on the former as a better and purer form of love than her (much more visible and palpable) attraction to the latter. This is exacerbated by the show almost entirely relying on scenes of them as kids to convey their bond. I’m sure there are ways to depict innocent pining for your best friend that don’t involve obsessively focusing on flashbacks of two CHILDREN running in a meadow and looking exactly like brother and sister. LIKE. I get it, they’re like soulmates in every possible way, BUT DO THEY WANT TO KISS EACH OTHER?

Which brings me to a general complain: for a young adult saga centering on a young heroine and full of so many hot people, this story is weirdly unsexy? There are a lot of shippable dynamics, but they’re done in such a careless, ineffective way that makes ZERO EFFORT to work on stuff like slow burn, pining and romantic tension, and when it does it’s so heavy handed that the viewer doesn’t feel encouraged at all to fill the blanks with their imagination and start anticipating things (which is, imo, the ESSENCE of shipping). The one dynamic that got vaguely close to this is, again, Kaz and Inej, and coincidentally it’s also the one we didn’t get confirmed as romantic YET. Other than that, where’s the slow burn? What ship am I supposed to agonize over during the hiatus to season two? Has shipping become something to feel ashamed of, like an embarrassing relative you no longer want to invite in your home?

Anyway, back to Alina/Darkling/Mal, this is how the story reads to me:

girl suspects to be special, carefully pretends to be normal so she can stay with Good Boy

the girl’s powers eventually manifest; she’s forcibly separated from Good Boy

the girl’s powers attract Bad Boy who is her equal and opposite but is also a major asshole

girl initially falls for Bad Boy; has to learn a hard lesson that nobody that sexy will ever want her for who she is, he’s just trying to exploit her

also, no, there is no such thing as a Power Couple

girl is literally given a slave collar by Bad Boy through which he harnesses her power (a parody of the Twin Scars trope)

you know how the story initially suggested that the joint powers of Darkness and Light would defeat evil? LOL NO, Darkness is actually evil itself and the way you destroy evil is using Light to destroy Darkness, forget that whole Jungian bullshit of integrating your shadow, silly!

conclusion: girl realizes being special sucks. She was right all along! Hiding and suppressing her powers was the best choice! She goes back to the start, to the same Good Boy she was meekly pining for prior to the start of the story.

... there’s an uncomfortable overall subtext that reads a lot like a cautionary tale against - look, not just against darkships and villain/heroine pairings, but also *overpowered* heroines and, well... change? Growth?

Like, it’s certainly a Choice that Alina starts the story *already* in love with Mal. That she always knew it was him. The realization could have happened later (making the dynamic much more shippable, too), but no. 

[canmom]

beyond parody.

[melonsmessymusings]

Just seen a post about S6&S3 parallels and @rachaeljurassic made some super interesting points in the tags about Giles’ departure and how INFURIATING it is that I really want to expand upon, so I guess this one’s for you :) I get it, the mentor figure needs to be gotten out of the way in order to progress Buffy’s own arc, that’s fine. It narratively makes complete sense, but it was handled badly.

@rachaeljurassic suggested that maybe we could’ve gotten him out of the way with a coma. I vibe with that. Let’s have the head injuries catch up to him and have him totally incapacitated. Big battle, dire injuries, that works. We could still have Buffy spiralling after, but this time she’d be blaming herself because Giles got hurt as a result of her being the Slayer (even though he’d never blame her for it and it isn’t her fault except for like twice). That also works better because it would be more in character than having Giles go “I know you can’t even breathe right now but I’m gonna flake because you need to be a grown up. Even though when I was your age I was raising demons, doing dr*gs and having orgies so like lmao.” Plus, have a couple of gratuitous scenes of a very injured Giles being visited by someone to pepper throughout the season that were pre-recorded so we don’t get confused as to why they wouldn’t be sat there with him at least every now and then to make us cry. Imagine a scene with Buffy in a hospital room watching a ventilator force air into her Watcher to keep him alive and pouring her heart out because she’s terrified with no idea what to do and he always knew and she needs him and just cries. You could even have it where he’s like slowly deteriorating or something and Dark!Willow uses her magic to cure him so that would explain how he just got better and was like... fine.  

I also love the idea of him having a total breakdown after Buffy’s death. I absolutely thrive off him becoming a completely numb droid (he probably was and only bothered to put on façade for the Scoobies but that’s for another day) and the Scoobies decided it’d be better for him to try and find a new purpose in life by sending him to England. We could’ve had like the first episode of them helping him settle with the Coven or something and it’d have been AWFUL to watch, but it would make sense and then when Buffy gets resurrected, they just don’t tell him and they tell Buffy that the grief killed him or something like that? idk... or having them explain that Giles isn’t Giles anymore and he’s doing better (because Tara gets updates from the Coven) but being in Sunnydale was killing him and they never told him that Buffy was resurrected. That wedges the group dynamic enough tbh and would cause Buffy to turn to Spike because he’d have had no clue about anything except that Giles had gone off the bloody rails big time and it was good he was away from this hellhole. 

Family emergency? Let’s be honest, the Giles family are probably scum so I’d buy that way less but it’s still more convincing than what actually happened. 

Another suggestion was having the Council snatch him. I also adore this. That would make sense. But let’s have them make it look like they killed him because I love that. So they send in a team, take him away but make it look like he’s been completely murdered. 

My idea is that they put a glamour or something on a vampire to make it look like Giles (but the audience don’t know this yet) and so Buffy drops by and finds a body that is in every way identical to Giles in a destroyed apartment and just breaks and is like clutching at him or something and there’s blood and its horrendous. Then you could either have swoopy Council guys come in and take Giles away when he ‘wakes up’ as a vampire because “there’s a procedure to this Miss Summers” or have her stake him herself then and there because after Angelus she’s taking no chances. Could you imagine the emotional payoff of that? She then has to go and tell the others, who don’t believe her but they all see the apartment, bloodstains and pile of dust and they all have to cope with the grief of losing him throughout the season in addition to everything else.

But wait! There’s more. Travers ends the episode with a folder in front of him, a report from the team that carried out the operation and smiles saying something evil like “I warned her of dealing with grown ups” so the audience all thinks that Giles got offed by the Council. 

BUT REALLY Giles was taken and held in a like prison facility thing, very much alive. Then we get like a showdown of Giles chained to a chair in this cell being forced to watch the video footage of the whole operation and Travers telling him that it’s over and his oh so precious Slayer will end up killing herself with guilt/grief and the Council can have a new start because they’re going to off Faith too. And the last shot is Giles crying in a dank hole.

As far as the audience goes: imagine having Giles showing up at the end of S6 if THAT had been the departure? It’s already an “AAAAAHHHHHH HOLY SHIT!” moment but it’d be magnified tenfold. Then Buffy being completely confused because “I killed you!” then having that moment when she ends up hugging him and he’s warm and breathing and not dead. And Dark!Willow being really confused but trying to kill him anyway because if he was alive all this time why didn’t he come back? That’s when we get the scene with Giles watching what happened on the monitor. Everyone is confused and Giles explains that the Council kept him in one of their facilities and now Buffy feels sick because she’s like “they tortured you... for months!” and Giles is like “Well yeah but it’s fine because I’m here now and I’m so sorry for abandoning you all.” Still can have Evil Willow being evil and Xander saving the day. I don’t care that much but we could’ve had this worked in.

Because the Council would’ve tortured him for fun. Not necessarily physically but they would’ve paraded him around as the example of what happens if you don’t toe the line. They could’ve completely humiliated him and it caused like cracks in the Council because some of them hate that Travers is abusing his power like this on one of their own and others finding it good that such a strong message is being sent. At which point, Travers would give the order for the Special Ops team to start the beatings. Of course, Giles is used to having the seven bells kicked out of him, but to be used as a training dummy by other human beings? They’d practice on him and that’s as far as I think the physical side of it would go, the rest would be mental/emotional torture. Or having hexes/curses tested on him and all the while, Giles genuinely wants them to kill him because everyone he cares about already thinks he’s dead so it makes no difference if it’s the reality. All the while, he’s being kept vaguely up to date with the events of Sunnydale so that he can hear how his Slayer is edging closer into just giving up and it breaks his heart. So Giles spent a year either being locked in a cell translating texts or being used as a punchbag to teach the S.O. team how to interrogate people. That’s how I see it going anyway. We could’ve seen like flashbacks of parts of it in S7 or something idk.

That would explain why he’s so distant in S7. Because he was kept prisoner for almost a year by the people who practically raised him (because the Council kind of did) and how that would mess anyone up and the First tormenting him about how he should’ve gone through with any attempts to end it instead of being a coward because Buffy doesn’t need him and she already thought he was dead. 

I dunno if this is actually what you were going for but it’s where my mind went and it would’ve given Tony Head something really juicy to do by playing a slightly crazed version of Giles who freaks out if there’s more than five people in the room because a year of living on your own in the dark drove him mad. He would’ve completely nailed it. Way better than sitting there going, “I’m headed back to England, and I plan to stay indefinitely”. Ugh we were robbed.

[allbeendonebefore]

atlas cronus cyclopes helios hermes poseidon titans

Atlas- Favourite myth? 

quatsch called me out and said i like the myth of theseus the best and she's right and i'm sort of but not really ashamed. Every iteration and every retelling of theseus just makes me laugh. I love how stupid he is. I love how the story was used to forcibly insert Athens into the mythological histories of older and more important poleis. I love how the theseus myth was somehow used as propaganda during the persian/peloponnesian wars (I need to re-investigate this) where the city state of athens said "you should take us seriously because of this absolute moron hero"

(i fall short of calling him a himbo, but I can see the argument being made for it if you subscribe to the versions where 1. he was Asked to leave Ariadne on that island and 2. remember that time his wife said straight faced that his son made advances towards her and his first reaction was welp better go kill my son"_ 3. i dont have any explanation for the kidnappings beyond a. they were completely misinformed on helen's age and panicked and b. with persephone and hippolyta i guess they just wanted wives that could destroy them so)

Cronus- Favourite food? 

I said curry last time so maybe i should say something different this time... i did mention i love bread and likewise because of its versatility. I enjoy making bread as much as i do eating it (and i did prior to covid also). Some of my favourite breads to make include naan, rye, and black pepper cheese bread. My favourite bread to eat is sourdough (which I don't have a starter for so I haven't made it yet)

Cyclopes- What’s your favourite joke? 

Another one hmm, let me think.

the one that annoys quatsch the most is the one about the greek guy who ripped his trousers: Euripides, Eumenides! :^)

Helios- Night or day person? 

hard question. I think i am actually a morning person in that I do like being up with the sun but only if I am alone and have nowhere else to be and I'm not being told what to do xD so like once my night classes ended and I could set my alarm earlier I noticed an improvement in my mood - but when I'm at home with the fam it's pointless to be up before my parents who wake up before me no matter what so I can't enjoy those quiet early morning hours unless I yeet myself straight out of the house which I don't like doing.

Traditionally my best creative time was 7pm ish (or so i noticed in high school and undergrad) so I had always thought of myself as a night person but I don't actually like staying up super late and I only like to sleep in once in a while.

Hermes- Do you like travelling? Where is one place you want to travel to? 

tbh travelling stresses me out a lot and I need to be with a person who knows what they're doing. But when the actual travelling part is over and we're just out wandering the hills in northern england or scotland or wherever enjoying nature or on the train watching the countryside go by, it's amazing. I also like having tomodachis with itineraries to show me their hometowns because I don't even have to think about what I want to do I can just follow and enjoy learning about how they see where they're from and be led to tasty food -w-

Poseidon- Do you like to swim? 

yyyes and no i think i answered this recently in another meme but i have mixed feelings about swimming. also apparently i can't figure out floating and need to work on that so i don't drown in the river when i do go swimming ;u;

Titans- If you could go anywhere in time, when would you want to go? 

urghhg i mean part of me is like lets go to ancient greece and make notes for my thesis but part of me is like oh no i'd have to understand ancient greek far better than i do and try not to get in trouble, part of me is like what if.... i just go back to the 90s but as an adult so i can get a more nuanced look at what i was living through at the time because at least i speak the language and have a vague idea of what was happening xD (i think i'd have no problem avoiding interacting with past me lol)

[peonycats]

can we get bangladesh and india for the ask meme? 🥺

My bangla oc, which is shared with @hammyletto, isn’t super developed, but I’m glad to answer anyways!!!

Bangladesh

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life

alignment: goth | prep | nerd | jock (more nerd than goth but he prbly writes emo poetry)

best quality: He’s a great listener and comforting to talk to! He’s fairly laidback, and can talk about a wide range of topics honestly and openly. He’s also rather kind-hearted, and will try his best to advise and counsel ppl!

worst quality: He’s... a bit of a pushover. He had a hard time saying no or rejecting other people cuz he knows what that feels like, and he thinks it’s just basic human decency, so he can end up taking up a lot of emotional burden from others rip my man

ship them with: Hmmm, not sure? more research needed...

brotp them with: Brunei (just bros being bros being pals), India, Sri Lanka (his one tether to sanity tbh), Malaysia, Vietnam

(disclaimer that just because i put a chara here doesn’t mean i dislike the ship or even dislike seeing them together!) needs to stay away from: Pakistan (yuppppppp), India (for all of India’s aid, he doesn’t really treat Bangla as an equal), England, 

misc. thoughts: Seriously witty and can unleash devastating insults but he usually keeps a tight lid on it because 1) he’s so fucking tired, and 2) he’d prbly destroy this region if he didn’t control this power. Also very opinionated, and can hold his own in a debate, but he despises arguing with his fellow nation tans (and by “fellow nation-tans” he means Pak and India) He does like debating with Sri a lot tho! Knows how to play an obnoxious amount of instruments. There’s an ominous stack of books on his night table he says he’s gonna read but he just keeps on buying more books, adding to the pile. Somewhat of a homebody.

___

India

general opinion: fall in a hole and die | don’t like them | eh | they’re fine I guess | like them! | love them | actual love of my life

alignment: goth | prep | nerd | jock (he is a man of many talents)

best quality: He’s amiable and easy to get along with! He’s gracious, hospitable, and can make almost anyone feel welcome! He has a knack for adapting to different social situations and pleasing everyone involved. He also legitimately gives pretty solid advice, having been around the block for a while.

worst quality: He’s so fucking dramatic, particularly w ppl who know him well- on one hand it does make him fun and entertaining to be around, but he can often resort to emotional manipulation and gaslighting (ESPECIALLY with his juniors) because can’t you see he is suffering :’(? why must you be so selfish and only thinking abt urself :’’’’’’(((((?? He also like never admits it when he genuinely fucked up. he wrote this:

(credit to hammy for this image thank 🥺🥺)

ship them with: China (I have too many feelings abt them to express concisely H), Iran (theyre in it for the long haul together girl)

brotp them with: China, Iran, Russia, Sri Lanka (Their relations are... strained but they can get along well before the bickering becomes too much), Afghanistan, Pakistan (see my prev ask abt pak yee yee), Thailand, Vietnam, Kenya (a lot of nations prbly, he makes friends very easily)

(disclaimer that just because i put a chara here doesn’t mean i dislike the ship or even dislike seeing them together!)  needs to stay away from: England (hot take: if you ship england with india and portray india as exotic and overly sexualized with a virginal and innocent England, dark poc and indians have every right to obliterate ur kneecaps), Sri Lanka, Pakistan, Bangladesh, most of South Asia tbh

misc. thoughts: Is actually really good at military strategy and civil administration and other matters, despite his carefree exterior. Kinda of messy for all of his complaining @ everyone else to clean up. He insists he’s not, he knows where everything is, he swears! Keeps on taking animals home to care for them- it’s getting out of hand. Prbly eats too many sweets esp for how fecking old he is but he insists that he’ll die happy. 

[facelessxchurch]

I'm still in awe that Nefarian won that battle tournament thing they played on the SP reddit. Imagine a group of people lackadaisical enough to read this garbage coming to the right conclusion out of nowhere

UGH yeah! That was so frustrating! I mean, I’m happy that Nef got some positive attention for a change, but the write-up of the battles were so unimaginative!

It always was: he wins bc red hand OP. If you’re clever enough you can beat him despite his red hand. It’s powerful, but it still has restrictions in place. Like there can be no barrier between the hand and his victim. Dive behind a wall and the pain cuts off. The red beams seem to be insta-kills, but you can dodge them and stuff like that.

What makes him far more dangerous is how intelligent, unpredictable and versatile he is! I don’t remember that well anymore, but there is an excellent chance I probably compiled this list of Nef’s canon magic bc this pissed me off so much.

For the White Clever VS Nef fight I wrote out all the things he could do to win even if his red hand doesn’t work. What do they do? “haha red hand goes brrr”

Like, why do this tournament/write-up in the first place if you’re going to be lazy about it?

Also, this is probably where this BS opinion comes from, that Nef has to be nerfed bc his hand makes him to OP. Bc they completely overestimate how powerful it is and underestimate pretty much everything else that makes Nef dangerous. Also, looking at all the OP characters SP has, what makes them think Nef is the one that has to be nerfed when fucks like Skulduggery, Valkyrie/Darquesse and Abyssinia are walking around??

Such a fucking mood!

I think it bothers you bc absolutely everyone always drew Mev dark haired (even before I started drawing him, since I used the others art as reference along with the ‘fake-canon’ pic that used to be posted on the wiki (it was a saturated version of this pic btw) that shows up a lot when you google ‘Mevolent’).

That’s not  chivalrous, that’s just really fucking weird tbh. I hate how Landy writes phase 2 Mevolent and I especially hated the entire part in Tahil Na Kurge with Val going full on Mary-Sue. 

Mev did have a few good scenes like how he easily he was fighting the assassins even without his magic and how it confirmed my headcanon about him being an agile fighter instead of a tank, since him wearing leather armour instead of metal had already been implying that. But with Mev it always feels a lot like Landy doesn’t know what route to take with him, leading to a very weird and inconsistent characterization. Honestly? I like how the people in the fandom write Mev a lot more (this excludes those that write him as a r*pist btw).

Be better than Mev and destroy the brain/go sure your overpowered opponent is truly dead. 

Tbf Darquesse had maincharacter plot armour protecting her, otherwise Mev would have accidentally solved the Prime Dimensions main issue for them.

Tbf Mev was probably lying through his teeth about wanting peace, just like I’m pretty sure that Mev was lying in KotW when he said he wanted a Truce with the Resistance. One of the few good things to come out of SoW was that it showed what a tricky and cunning bastard Mev is.

He probably prefers to take those in his way out in ways that cannot be traced back to him and replace them with his own people. Or he just wanted the peace so he can more easily get what he needs to bring his Gods back and let them do the killing instead of having his men die. In book 1 Nef mentioned they want to return their Gods so they can ‘cleanse’ the world and rebuild it in their image or something like that.

(I answer on my Mev blog even slower than I answer here, so if you want a quick answer I wouldn’t recommend it.)

LMAO fat chance. I mean, I’d love to see it, but we both know it’s not gonna happen. We’ll be lucky if Nef doesn’t get ruined further and that’s the best we can hope for tbh.

You most likely will, yes.

WHY DOES THIS FANDOM KEEP CIRCLING BACK TO THE MEV DICK DISCOURSE

I can’t believe it took Landy 14 years to come up with a reason why Nef and Skul hate each other and the reason pretty much just boils down to “they just don’t like each other and it got out of hand bc war”.

I’m extra pissed bc that was the exact question I asked him when I stood before him during the 2016 YALC for which my sorry ass flew to England and he couldn’t give me an answer back then. Instead he then told me that he was planning on releasing a secret on his blog each year on the release date of the last SP book and that that would be one of them. Well, that was a fucking lie.

[emikochan]

Hi! May i request some Hcs for 1p and 2p allies with a mythical being s/o? Like she can be a sun goddess and can control temperature and light/light cycle🌞🧡

Tooooo many characters so I did a mixture of 1p and 2p if you don't mind~

~~~~~~

2p!America:

"Real funny, babe haha"

Won't believe his s/o at first until they demonstrate their skills. Allen would be a bit speechless afterwards and is surprisingly hurt, asking why his s/o kept such a big secret from him.

Allen being Allen would throw a fit in blind anger with accusations like "Why would you keep something like this from me?!" and "You fucking lied!" "How old ARE you?!" and he's honestly just really disappointed, so he lets all of those things out before storming off.

Trust and honesty are things he values greatly in his relationship so he needs a short break where he collects his thoughts before talking things over with his doll.

He's surprisingly responsible with his s/o's powers afterwards and keeps an eye out for her at all times. He gives her a second chance if she vows to be completely honest with him this time around.

~~~~~

1p!England:

Figured, honestly.

You think he wouldn't catch her magical aura? The energy that radiates from his s/o? How the sun seemed to shine brighter everytime they were together or how the sky would be clear at night every time the two of them would decide to go star gazing?

Being able to wield magic himself, Arthur would know shortly after they started to become something serious. He acts all surprised during the confession though.

"Oh, is that so? My, love, would you mind showing me then?"

The Brit is delighted to have an equally powerful opponent and lover to match his own magic. He would never admit it, but Arthur loves watching his s/o manipulate the sun, exchange day with night and create beautiful sunsets with a wield of her hand while standing in their beautiful garden.

He's having a really good time.

~~~~

2p!France:

"D'accord"

He shrugs it off. You really think that he'd buy it? Similar to Allen François wouldn't believe it unless you show him.

Even when he sees it he shrugs it off.

Does that change anything for him? Does it change anything about who you are? Because if it doesn't, he really doesn't give a shit.

He might try to persuate you to make the night a tiny bit longer so he can stay in bed with your for five more minutes. Other than that nothing would change.

~~~~~~

2p!China:

"YOOOOOOO-"

"Can you make the sun explode?!"

"Does it feeling like switching the lights off when you set the sun??"

"Did you ever travel to the moon??"

"How ancient are you lol"

"Do you have a super special spirit form with a sexy outfit or what?"

So many questions.

Xiao won't shut up about it and keeping it a secret makes him all giddy and excited. You'll have to answer a lot of questions and when that's finished he'll start grinning uncontrollably from pride.

His babe is a literal ⭐goddess⭐ and from all the mortals you could have chosen you chose him.

He'll tease you about it occasionally but as soon as you're gone to do your business he worries, that something might happen to you with climate change and shit going on. Controlling all of this stuff obviously drains you more with each passing day and he's afraid that you might break from all this pressure.

~~~~

1p!Russia:

He knew something was off.

Though Ivan is not as talented in magic as some other's are, he recognizes magic when magic is involved. He felt something special when he first encountered you.

How come you are always radiating heat, how your skin always seemed to heal so quickly and how he felt so at peace when he was with you? Knowing you are a goddess doesn't change a thing about his feelings for you. He only thing he's afraid of is that you might dislike living in the cold with him or that you, as an immortal being, might have to see Ivan die.

Not being with you rips Ivan apart but it utterly destroys him to know, that you have to spend an eternity alone after he ended his earthly career. He never wants you to be alone and you two talk often about the negative aspects of your powers.

~~~~~~~~

2p!Canada:

He acts like a calmer version of Allen, he asks a few questions, talks about stuff he needs to know and takes the day off to process everything.

Tbh James would honestly contemplate on wether he could handle eventually marrying a spirit and it's on his s/o to help him through this journey.

If they succeed, he will ask to help his s/o to take some pressure off their shoulders.

James always had an affinity for nature and it's many creatures, that's why it would be very likely that he could also abandon his mortality to help his s/o on a more divine level, if that's possible. He won't let you do this alone.