I Know The Lady Of The Lake Doesn't Appears A Lot, But I Consider Her A More Masculine Woman And Definitely

WIP Wednesday Saturday tag

Damn i completaly forgot to post this thing, school is eating me out alive. Anyways, thank you @lancedoncrimsonwings.

Things went by very quickly, months passed and it was already February. It was still damn winter, but everyone always tried to convince him that it wasn't that bad. And in the midst of the cold, the fey obtained resources and a willpower that Lancelot particularly envied and asked so that they could have a Lupercalia festivity. He remembers the three days of lupercalia where they held feasts for healing and fertility and drank with the fauns. It was also when lovers declared themselves to each other in a way he never forgot.

At the birth of Aphrodite or Venus, Goddess of love and beauty, she is created from sea foam and walked through the sand to find the other Olympians, consequently her symbol is a shell. Centuries ago, it was realized that when sand is exposed to a certain temperature, it crystallizes, and as Ashes have fire in their blood, handling this would not be as difficult just as with other metals.

Every Lupercalia celebration, couples or lovers go to the beaches, light a fire and look for the shell that most reminds them of their partner, and then return to their loved one's side. Then they gathered a handful of sand in their hands with the shell in the middle and heated it until the sand melted into a crystal. They made flowers with the crystal, usually the favorites of their loved ones, each one was unique due to the way it was made and the shell inside it, the shells were exchanged and then they spent the night celebrating and loving each other. On the next day, the previous year's flower was buried in the gardens or temples of goddesses related to love or fertility. They were called love-forges.

Many women appeared pregnant after the celebration. And in fact that's how he gained a younger brother.

When Lancelot was a child, he remembered seeing his father and two mothers making these flowers for each other and exchanging them among themselves, and then they decorated the house with them until the following year, where they buried them in the garden of the goddesses.

Now Lancelot is almost thirty years old and has never made a love-forge for anyone. He thought he would never do it until a jerk with green eyes came into his life last autumn.

Now the monk suddenly finds himself waking up at dawn and voluntarily going out in the cold to go to the nearest beach and walk along the sea coast looking for the shell that most reminded him of his best friend. But how could a single shell remind him of someone like Gawain? It wasn't possible. Gawain would never be someone who could be described in a single, small shell.

After a good few minutes of walking along the coast, Lancelot's eyes fall on something small, bright green that almost immediately reminds him of his best friend, and suspiciously to his stupid heart, desired lover.

A small, flat, chubby shell, with a spiral shape as captivating as his green eyes. Its color was a vibrant light green, the base was greener than its center, which was turning white, the marks caused by the spirals looked golden, and it was so beautiful in the moonlight that it made his heart beat faster. How could something so small remind him of such an important person? The shell did not remembered him any other than Gawain. It was only as perfect as him.

Lancelot takes the shell between his hands and returns to the sand, taking a small handful between his hands. His heart was racing too fast to be considered normal, but at least it kept him warm. He places the small shell in the middle, burying it with more sand and blowing fire several times, melting the sand until it forms a malleable crystal. His hands work to create the petals, round and large, leaving the shell in the middle.

He delicately made each petal, each one held something he liked about his friend, or a moment of them together. The smell of his hair, the captivating eyes holding him as he talks, the hands helping him put his clothes back on when his ribs were broken, the way their lips almost touch when they whisper secrets to each other, the stolen clothes and teasing at breakfast. Everything that reminded him of him as each round petal was placed delicately and slowly on a gardenia, a flower that signified secret love. He finishes the flower as in tradition, a kiss on the petals on the shell.

"What is that?" Suddenly Gawain's voice sounds behind him, scaring him and making him look over his shoulder to where the other man is looking at him. Gods, was he so distracted that he didn't hear or feel Gawain nearby?

“Just a flower. It was a tradition of my people and I wanted to do it now that I, well, came back.” He responds, the heart accelerating the closer Gawain comes, until he sits next to him, but much closer than is friendly permitted.

He turns his face away from the flower to look at Gawain, their lips almost touching for a moment and both men take a few seconds to compose themselves and stop looking at each other's lips. “Does it always end with a kiss like that?” Gawain whispered, sliding his eyes to the crystal gardenia in his friend's hand. "Yes." The other responds without turns.

The green-eyed man extends his hand, touching Lancelot's and holding the gardenia with him, and speeding up both their hearts even more. “May I?” He asks, and Lancelot nods, sure that he's talking about the flower, but is surprised when suddenly his best friend's lips are on his. It's just a peck, a press of lips, but it makes the blue-eyed man's brain stop and it takes a few seconds before he responds to the kiss with a press of lips of his own.

Gawain's lips were as soft as he imagined, and Lancelot knows that his marks are glowing with the amount of happiness and passion he feels in that moment. The kiss seems to last forever, even though it was only a few long seconds. They break the kiss, both looking at each other and again the other man is the first to speak. “We should get back to the tent, before you freeze from lack of heat.” The man nods and they both get up with each other's help, but Lancelot is surprised again when Gawain pulls him to his chest and whispers in his ear. “I’ll cuddle you all night so you don’t get cold.” Lancelot feels his marks glowing brighter, his cheeks heat up and he probably looks like a tomato judging by the way his love laughed triumphantly and walked away, while he stood still for a while before following him back to the camp with the flower in his hands.

That man was still going to give him a heart attack.

Here is the inspiration for the shell and what a gardenia looks like:

This was inspired by me and the person i like showing that we like each other through origami of our favorite flowers. My heart skipped a beat when they said that they have each of the lilies I gave them in a different house. And since Lancelot has no idea how to show love I decided to put this on him too.

Happy valentines day, also late.

kay was 0.02 seconds away from calling gawain a slur here and I think that’s just beautiful

Okay then, this is the drawing I did as a test for the Weeping monk's face. The drawing isn't that good because I'm not very good at drawing faces and also because it's a test drawing so I wasn't that worried about how well it would turn out or not.

The proportions are wrong; the eyes are the wrong shape and have no pupils, and the tears are worse; the mouth looks weird; I don't like the beard; he's bald; It's definitely one of the drafts I liked the least, but I'll let it go because I did it at dawn surviving on coffee.

I said it yesterday and I'm saying it again. DANIEL SHARMAN IS A DOBERMAN. And that makes Isaac Lahey a Doberman too.

Look look look

It

Is

The

Same

Thing!

They are the same!

Daniel Sharman is a Doberman and you can't convince me otherwise.

I

See

No

Diference

it's official, i don't how to start a chapter anymore. Like, why is writing so difficult? Why can't my ideas and thoughts just write themselves on my computer? WHY DO I HAVE TO WRITE THEM?!?! THEY WERE THE ONES WHO APPERED WITHOUT ASKING! Ugh

Im gonna be so real can yall actually talk about ways we can support trans women in the UK instead of giving all the attention to fucking JKR. I already know that Harry Poter sucks, I wanna know how to actually HELP people. Something something you have to love the oppressed more than you hate the oppressor

𝐋𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐚

What is Lupercalia?

Celebrated on February 13th - February 15th, Lupercalia was an ancient Roman holiday dedicated to the god Faunus, the wild horned spirit of nature, and the legendary founders of Rome, Romulus and Remus. The festival is believed to have far more ancient origins than its association with these mythical figures, likely stemming from earlier fertility rites and purification ceremonies.

The name of the festival, Lupercalia, is derived from the Latin word lupus (wolf), tying it to the legend of the she-wolf who rescued and nursed Romulus and Remus in the cave known as the Lupercal. This cave, located on Palatine Hill, became the heart of the festival’s rituals, emphasizing the protective and nurturing symbolism of wolves.

At its core, Lupercalia celebrated the themes of fertility, purification, and the harmony of nature. It honored two deities: Faunus, the primordial spirit of wild nature and fertility, and Juno Februata, the aspect of Juno associated with purification and the passions of love. The name "February" itself originates from Februare (to cleanse) and Juno Februata, underscoring the month’s ties to this festival.

The festival began with sacrifices of goats, symbolizing fertility, and dogs, representing purification. These sacrifices were followed by ceremonial rituals performed by Faunus’ priests, known as the Luperci. After consuming the sacrificial meat, the Luperci smeared themselves with the blood of the animals and dressed in strips of goatskin, referred to as "Juno’s cloak." They then ran through the streets of the Palatine Hill, carrying whips made from goatskin called februa.

Women who wished to conceive strategically positioned themselves to be struck by the whips, believing this act would enhance fertility, ensure conception, and guarantee safe childbirth. This ritual also served as a broader purification rite for the community, cleansing it in preparation for the coming New Year, which in the Roman calendar began at the vernal equinox.

The nine days of Lupercalia, from February 13th to the 21st, were believed to be a liminal time when the souls of the dead wandered the earth. Offerings of food and drink were left for them, with the living honoring the spirits as part of the festival's traditions.

Over time, the festival's elements shifted and evolved, blending with other traditions. February 14th, now celebrated as Valentine’s Day, originally marked the first day of Lupercalia, dedicated to Juno Februata and Faunus, when women prayed for fertility and blessings.

Lupercalia continued to be celebrated for centuries until it was officially abolished in 495 AD by Pope Gelasius I, who replaced it with a Christian feast day. Now, in modern times, even though Lupercalia is no longer a widely celebrated festival, it is often associated with modern Valentine’s Day or even a celebration of self-love. Today, it’s all about love, fertility, and connection. You can spend the three days of Lupercalia by offering yourself love and understanding, doing things that nurture your self-appreciation, and spending special time with your loved ones.

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Magic Correspondences:

Colors: red, white, pink

Crystals: rose quartz, milky quartz, selenite, moonstone, ruby, garnet, lepidolite, green aventurine, emerald

Deities: Juno, Lupercus, Faunus, Venus, Aphrodite, Pan, Hera, Dionysus, Eros, Mars, Freyja, Cernunnos (deities associated with love, fertility, and abundance)

Animals: dog, goat, wolf, dove, swan, dolphin, ladybug, lovebirds, horse

Flowers: lavender, roses, snowdrops, hyacinths, tulips, orchids

Herbs: cinnamon, basil, jasmine, vanilla

Fruits: figs, cherries, grapes, bananas, strawberries, pomegranate, raspberries, apples

Symbols: phallus, hearts, wolves, whips, goat

Magick: fertility and abundance spells, self-love magick, sex magick, purification

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Activities to do:

🐺 Take a relaxing long bath, and add some rose essential oil if you like

🐺 Spend time with your dog(s)

🐺 Watch some romance movies

🐺 Treat yourself to things that make you feel good, like lotions, perfume, or new clothes

🐺 Light red, pink, or white candles

🐺 Collect flowers and put them in your altar or room

🐺 Drink goat milk

🐺 Perform love, fertility, and purification spells

🐺 Give flowers to loved ones

🐺 Spend some time in your home, simply being naked because why not?

🐺 Bake heart-shaped cakes

🐺 Support dog shelters with a donation

🐺 Spend time with your lover

🐺 Listen to your favorite music

🐺 Show appreciation for your body

🐺 Take your health medicine

🐺 Decorate your space or altar with heart-shaped objects

🐺 Spend time and meditate in nature

🐺 Eat lots of chocolate

🐺 Practice yoga

🐺 Connect with deities associated with love, fertility, and purification

🐺 Drink some red wine

🐺 Dedicate a day to self-care, doing what feels healthy and good for you

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Food and Drinks:

Drink red liquids like wine, cranberry or strawberry juice, consume goat dairy, cakes, muffins, chocolate, honey, cherries, champagne, grapes, hazelnuts, cinnamon rolls, cupcakes, any food with meat, apple pie, strawberries.

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sources: Wicca: A Modern Guide To Witchcraft & Magick; Encyclopedia of Witchcraft: The Complete A-Z for the Entire Magical World by Judika Illes

It was at an independent burger joint in my city, my older brother paid. This is a bacon burger, I've never been so happy to eat a burger.

This is the result of a person who loves Cursed and Sabrina Carpenter. I couldn't resist, this was totally what Gawain wanted to say in this scene and you can't convince me otherwise.

Plus with the same song just because he looked extremely indignant in that same scene.

Song: Slim Pickins by Sabrina Carpenter

@lancedoncrimsonwings