#but ive never *formally* studied music outside of that

[zeawesomebirdie]

I should dig out my ocarina

I'm better at that than piano, and getting out my trombone is way too much energy just for composing,,,

#i finished my homework! #but im not confident in my music notation #again i only *just* started learning this stuff #ive never formally learned theory before #ive played bass trombone for over a decade (with three of those years being semi-professionally while i was still in school) #but ive never *formally* studied music outside of that #ive just always wanted to learn composition 😅 #so here i am! #learning composition!

[offtopicoverload]

What do you think the female lis’ families are like? I feel like only the guys talk about their families, with the exception being Talia talking about her parents and brother I don’t think any of the other girls do at all

hi anon thanks for the ask, hope my headcanons make sense

Talia:

pretty nuclear family, an older brother, her mum and her dad

her older brother’s maybe 4 years older or so, not enough that they never saw each other but enough that they didn’t really meet in school or anything

and that’s definitely why she meshes so well with the Jake even though they have like 6 years between them, shes used to the gap and hes really similar to her brother anyway, both goofy but sweet when they need to be

she definitely really close with her mother, i know its mentioned that they look just like each other, but i think that dialogues universal for the S1 LIs

and her mum owns a salon, right?

thats definitely why she takes such good care of her hair, her mother always did when she was little and encouraged it, complimenting her on it and styling it whenever she wanted

and she worked at the salon when she was a teenager and it was summer, working the front desk or cleaning up, sorting products, that sort of thing

its definitely a different story with her dad, hes pretty traditional and didnt take her coming out very well

it ruined things between them for a while and made it hard for her to visit, she only saw her brother at his place and her mother at the salon, but after LI, if shes with MC, he eases up a bit when he sees how happy they are

shes so open about her sexuality, especially on the show, because she doesn’t want any other kids to feel alone, she knows how much it sucked when she was a teenager

if she ends with MC, her mothers there at the finale and just showers MC in compliments and comments about wedding bells to mess with Talia

and her brother loves teaming up with MC and Jake to tease her 

the first time he met Jake, Talia thought they’d get married on the spot cuz they just meshed so well

her dads wary at first, but once its clear that MCs not going anywhere, maybe he catches them talking about him or something and just being vulnerable with each other, which is something Talia never was with him, he starts welcoming MC more, buys her flowers or something the next time they visit and annoys Talia because he didnt get any for her

Allegra:

ive been headcanoning for a while that she has a really big family and an awful relationship with them

her parents got divorced when she was little, maybe 3 or 4, they both remarried, her mom got divorced and remarried again, so she has a ton of half and step siblings, but no full

because there were so many kids in whatever household she was staying in at the time she kinda got lost in the crowd, which is why shes so desperate for attention on the show, she never got any when she was younger

and no matter what happens on the show, her parents dont call her or come to the finale, the only person that says anything is the one step sibling shes close with

they're about the same age, maybe 8 months to a year apart, and were glued to each others side when they were tweens

but they live really far apart and her step sister couldn’t make it to the finale, so they barely see each other which makes them drift apart a bit

if MC runs away with her after the reunion, she gushes to her step sister and they get closer again, to the point that her sister moves in with her for a job a year or two later, maybe right before quarantine if MC doesn’t so they don’t go insane

MC and her sister get on well and always call her Leggy just to watch her get mad, and they’re the only two people that can get her to calm down when shes pissed, her anger being another side effect of being ignored as a kid

the only way she got attention was if she threw a fit, and eventually that frustration just stuck around

but she gets better when she gets closer with her sister again and after the backlash from the show dies down, which it does pretty quickly when her and MC announce their relationship since she was the fan favourite

she never really introduces MC to her family, it just doesn’t make sense to her, but MC drags her along to a few weddings and holiday parties until Allegra’s dad introduces himself to her like its the first time four events in a row

she gives up after that, and Allegra’s perfectly fine with it, she’d rather keep their relationship between them anyway

Marisol

like Talia, she has the same family dynamic - an older brother and her parents

but her brothers only a year older and their relationship is a lot tenser

her dad always encouraged competition between them - if one got a good mark on an exam, the other was expected to match or do even better, if her brother got an award, Marisol was expected to get it a year later, that sort of thing

she doesn’t really talk with her brother outside of formal or family events, there’s still a lot of tension from their teenage years between them, but Marisol’s too proud to admit it, and her brother is too

and she’d never admit it, but the whole reason she’s in law school is because her father wanted her to, and she was just lucky that she enjoyed it

and again, like Talia, her dad didnt take her attempt at coming out well, he just flat out denied it, told her she’d meet a nice guy and settle down, that is what just a phase, all that shit

neither her mother or brother stuck up for her, which pissed her off a bit and just made things worse

her mother was never that involved in her life, never seemed that interested unless she was getting perfect marks and competing in dance competitions

and because she was so focused on her studies and work, she never had many friends and has honestly always seen them as a waste of time

its why she has no problem shitting on Lottie’s girl code, to her it just never made sense

so most of her friends end up being from the show and MCs friends if they’re together, and shes not big on family events, her immediate family isn’t either

but she is really close to her abuela on her mum’s side and an older cousin on her dad’s who’s gay and shes always related to 

she got really excited to introduce MC to them, and her abuela made a whole array of food for Marisol, MC,  and her abuelo and her abuela cooed over MC for ages

her cousin bought them drinks and made them tell him stories from the Villa, and afterwards pulled Marisol aside and told her he was proud and approved of MC and it made her really mushy and she hated it, MC wouldn’t let go that she cried in the cab for ages

her brother and her mother were never particularly rude to MC, but her father definitely was cold and distant and disrespectful

she got pretty pissed after that, telling MC off for ever encouraging to go and shouting about why that kind of thing was the exact reason she kept her distance

her and MC definitely has some issues after that for a while, and she shut her dad out until he gave a halfhearted apology, but her cousin and abuelos helped her feel better about her family situation

Elisa:

her parents aren’t together anymore and her mum had custody of her most of her life, even though she struggled to raise her and her sister

she didnt know her dad that well until she was a in her late teens, but regardless of all the lost time, they still have a good relationship

makeup and art was an escape when she was younger, and even when her mother was exhausted after working multiple shifts, she always encouraged her and helped her improve or just told her she loved it

her mum was her biggest supporter when she started the whole influencer thing, and her favourite thing to spend her money on is things for her family, like flowers for when she visits her mum or a new phone for her younger sister

they’re seven years apart, so she never had that close of a relationship with her when she was young, because what 13 year old wants to hang out with their annoying 6 year old sister

but once she got a bit older she started taking her to the movies and shopping to bond and encouraging her own art

her sister loves music, and even if she cant relate to it directly, she always does her best to support her

she even got kassam to make her sister a mixtape after the show and give some tips on mixing, and if MCs a musician she always asks her to give her sister lessons or something

introducing MC to her whole family all at once was one of her favourite things to do, she took them all to dinner and bought MC a dress and everything

her parents loved MC and laughed at all her jokes, and MC nearly joked on her salad at a story her dad was telling 

and even though her sister was pretty quiet, she told Elisa how much she liked her afterwards

they all start a family game night that is Elisa’s favourite thing to post about all week, and even though her parents haven’t been together since she was 7 or so, they still get on well and now that her dad’s more comfortable being there even though he’s not with her mum, hes more involved in her sisters life

her job and her Elisabees are crazy important to her, but she’d drop all of it for her family, even if she doesn’t seem super sappy

Lottie

shes an only child for sure, but with a few cousins shes decently close with

her relationship with her parents isn’t perfect by any means, but she still gets on with them

they encouraged her art even if they made some odd comments about her being alt that rubbed her the wrong way, but they mean well

there was a couple years where Lottie thought they’d get divorced, because they were arguing about finances cuz her mum went back to school and they lost her income, but when she started working as a nurse they were able to get back on track

her dad’s a bloke and loves sports and cars and all that, but hes also big in horror movies and is the one that introduced her to it

her mum hated all the gore, but her dad would let her watch it with him when she was out of the house

she always goes home for Christmas no matter where shes living, but has her own traditions for New Years and Easter

her aunt and uncle always host a big dinner and her dad drives two hours to get there, and she always spends the drive listening to new music and planning new makeup looks to test out

she has a ton of cousins because each of her parents has 4 siblings, but their ages are all so spread out that shes only close with a few of them and swaps stories from the year with three of them

they all lost their shit over MC when she brought her to their Christmas Eve dinner, hugging her way too much in Lottie’s opinion and telling her as many embarrassing stories as they could think of

her mum spent the car ride there trying to connect with MC, and they actually got on pretty well, but her dad seemed to click with MC even more for whatever reason, giving her a beer when they got back to Lottie’s parent’s house and turning on Lottie’s favourite slasher film for background noise while they talked

her dad made MC swear that she’d come back next year, that they weren’t allowed to trade between MC’s family for Christmas and Lottie’s, and MC agreed with a laugh as Lottie’s head was in her lap, watching the movie

Hannah:

she has a huge traditional family

three older brothers, two older sisters, and a younger brother

she grew up in the country and her mother had horses that she always loved to spend time with cuz i love her but she was 100% a horse girl

her parents never had any problems, were always happy and sappy and that was the only type of relationship she saw growing up, so before Love Island she didn’t really understand that relationships could be bad and how to deal with that

two of her older brothers and both of her sisters are married, her brothers and one sister have kids, again super traditional and happy, which only further reinforced these fairy tale ideals she has

she loves her nieces and nephews, but never felt like an aunt, more of an older cousin for whatever reason

her oldest sibling is her brother, they’re 13 years apart and he has four kids already, hes been married since 21

her oldest sister got married the oldest at 25, and shes always been worried she won’t match up to them, which was a huge motivator to go on Love Island

shes closest with her middle sister, who’s 23 with no kids, but she still has a nice house in the suburbs with a big yard, still crazy nuclear

her whole life has been spent around this type of tradition, and it was really hard for her to break out of it after Love Island

Hannah’s youngest brother is still only 15, and hes a bit of a black sheep - hes alt and dyes his hair and draws tattoos on his arms during school, and she was never close with him before Love Island, but after she comes out as some kind of queer, he comes out as gay and nonbinary(he/they) and they get really close for once

he gets in a fight with their parents when they’re 17, and he runs to Hannah’s place, driving multiple hours to get there and moves in with her after a few weeks

they stay with her until they graduate uni with a degree in education, getting a job at a school and telling all their students that his sister was on Love Island and her girlfriend’s really cool

MC and him are her biggest encouragement to break from the mold her family set, both so her relationship can thrive and to be a good role model for her younger sibling

she struggles with fitting in with her stereotypical family and siblings that all have multiple kids and nice houses, but she still loves her little mishmash of MC, her sibling, and the constant friends that cycle through their flat - Lottie, Priya, Chelsea, Gary sometimes even, Ibrahim once or twice as hes on a golf tour

Lottie loves her sibling and sometimes does makeup for them, and Chelsea always shows up unexpected to hang out with MC and redecorate their house but Hannah hates it because she likes all the memories her clutter has, even if MC calls her a hoarder sometimes

she had so many hand me downs growing up that now she has her own place, she loves filling it with things that are for her and MC and only them and has a really hard time letting go of things, always reasoning that they might give her inspiration to write or something

AJ:

shes an only child too, which made her dad treat her as much like as son as he could

her parents struggled to conceive, so once they used IVF to have her they didnt want to go through it again

her dad was super excited when she was interested in sports and is her biggest fan, always showing up to every single game and driving her to practices before she moved out, though she still doesn’t have a car cuz she hates driving, its too much pressure

her dad would watch games with her and coach her during off seasons, her uncles a football coach and used to get them tickets when he could, sometimes letting her train with his team when she was a teenager

her mum didnt like how hard she pushed herself, but was still supportive of how much she loved it 

her mums a mathematician and always helped her with her homework because she awful at maths, while her dad would try and teach her history or edit papers until her mum had to step in and correct him

when she came out as bi and later gay, they didnt even bat an eye, her mum making her pride color cupcakes and her dad maybe even being excited that he could point out cheerleaders when they were watching games

her mum didn’t quite understand when she wanted to go on Love Island, but her dad thought it’d be a laugh and further enforced her “just have fun” attitude

but her parents are both crazy happy when she wins with MC, making a banner when AJ first brings her home

she thought her dad would crush MC when he started hugging her, and her mum made an entire cake, biscuits, cinnamon rolls, and more sweets that she made them take home

her parents always make her and MC come over for dinner on Sundays and she started noticing the extra effort they always went to - her dad actually dressing nice, the house was super clean, the dog always had recently been given a bath

even though she knew her parents supported her, seeing all that really calmed her nerves about bringing home a girl, and made her coming out as a gay a lot easier

MC and her alternate between their family’s for holidays, and her parents each invite their brother and their families every time, and after their third holiday at her parents, they bought her and MC a dog

her and MC definitely have a pretty traditional family life, married after a few years with a nice house, going as far as to adopt a kid or two when AJ stops playing professionally, her parents always closely involved with their grandkids

Disclaimer - I don’t know if Yasmin or Lily make mentions of their family, so I’m just going with what I think

Yasmin:

her mother passed when she was 12, and her and her younger sister were raised by her dad

he wasn’t always the best dad, sometimes he struggled to make time for them with work, or sometimes he struggled to connect with them, but it was never anything too bad

she was always super close to her sister and parented her as she was growing up since they have a 9 year difference between them

her sisters her biggest fan and always makes her send demos and work in progresses so she can listen to them on repeat, and whenever Yasmin writes a song specifically for her she loses her mind

all her friends love Yasmin’s solo music and Enchanted Husband and she brags nonstop

Yasmin figured out she liked girls pretty young, around 10 or so, but only came out when she was 17. she didnt want her sister to ever feel alone or isolated if she ended up being queer too, so she tried to always be open about who she was

her dad sat her down when she bought a pride flag and had her explain everything to him step by step, and he gave her some space for a few days, but then he offered to take her to pride when it came around 

he doesn’t talk about it with her much, and she knows he doesn’t fully understand, but he offers his support whenever he thinks she needs it

her sister absolutely fangirled over MC the first time she met her, hugging her and not letting go until Yasmin nearly pulled her off MC

her dad hugged her too but was far more reserved, hes quieter like her, and tends to keep his distance, whereas her sister has no problem shrieking and making a scene in a train station

later that night her dad pulls her aside and tells her he likes MC and thinks shes a good fit, and her sister has no problem saying how cool MC is, even when shes in the room

her sister and her dad always ask for tickets when shes touring nearby, and MC always offers to take them to dinner before the show, and the three of them get on better than Yasmin expected

she thought her dad might be too distant or her sister too excitable, but even if she’d never say anything, seeing them all get on makes things easier

when her sister gets older and moves out, their dad moves closer to Yasmin, even though he never says exactly why, and there’s a few years where her sister and her are both to busy to meet up, but MC makes them hang out together and then get dinner with their dad when their all in town

MC tends to be her reminder to slow down, and after that dinner she cancels the rest of her tour and takes a two year break in which her sister starts spending weekends at Yas and MCs, their dad visiting often too

Lily:

she has three full brothers and shes the only girl, her parents are divorced and her dad remarried while her mother stayed single

she has a step sister from her dad’s remarriage, but they dont have much in common and didnt grow up together, her parents only split when she was 15

two of her brothers are older than her and her oldest is the one shes closest with, with a gap of 7 years between them

hes an engineer and into cars too, he helped her fix up her first car and helped her pay for college

her youngest brother is only a year below her, but they were never close, he was never that interested in playing in the mud when they were kids

hes an art and english double major and still lives with their dad, hes closer with their step sister than Lily, but there’s no bad blood or anything

her other brother is a middle ground, three years older than her

he’s an accountant and used to drive her around before she could herself, they bonded over a few small mutual interests like a tv show they would binge together and just staring a space together since they shared a room, her younger brother and step sister across the hall

her dad wasn’t crazy active in her life and she doesn’t know her step mother, but her mum worked from home when she was younger and had custody on weekends

she babied her younger brother and always scolded Lily for being a tomboy and it bothered her a lot when she was little, until her older brother started encouraging it

her brothers all love MC, even her youngest, and they all try and bond with her in a different way

sometimes Lily goes home just to find a note that one of her brothers took MC to a movie or dinner or somewhere else, and she wants to be annoyed with them for it, but she likes the validation

she never officially came out, so none of them saying anything or criticizing her is really comforting, knowing that something so trivial doesn’t matter

her mum was a little shocked by the show and MC, but she tries to be polite and eventually comes around, inviting MC to go shopping to bond

her dad has no problem, her step mother being a little confused but not concerned, and her step sister doesn’t care, just nods at MC the first time she meets her

Lily tends to keep her distance from her family, especially when her older brothers find partners and start families, but is fine going to events, sometimes its nice to see her brothers and catch up

#can it kc #headcanons #litg talia #litg allegra #litg marisol #litg elisa #litg lottie #litg hannah #litg aj #litg yasmin #litg lily #asks

[boqutos]

hi! may i have a matchup for bnha and hq please? I am a native irish lesbian who loves surfing, fashion and traveling! i have family in italy and i am fluent in french, italian and irish! i dream of being a traveling english teacher when im older, i have a kinda curvy fit body and ive been told i look a lot like anne hathaway lol. i can read palms and tarot cards and i love cats, music and art! im kind, sassy and confident, i dont take any crap from anyone and am really self assured. thank you!

a matchup, for anonymous.

i match you with ☆ 𝐍𝐄𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎!

as a person who’s never been anywhere outside of japan, she’ll find you super duper interesting when you tell her that you were born and raised in ireland! she’ll be so interested in your numerous nationalities that she could hear you ramble about it for hours!!! she has a lot of questions to ask you all the time too! what it’s like in ireland and italy, what your family is like, what you like doing there, where you like hanging out over there, do you have any photos? can you take her there sometime? 

when you mention that you speak different languages, you can literally see the hearts in her eyes! she finds it hard to learn and speak just english, but you can speak english, and three other languages???? gosh!! she thinks you’re so damn amazing. there’s lots of discussion about you eventually teaching her about all the things you know.

that goes for your other interests as well. you’ll have to explain what a tarot card is and the intricacies of palm reading, but as soon as you tell her more she’s on it like white on rice.

she’ll make playlists for you with music she thinks you’ll like and more! she’ll take you to those cute cat cafes so you two can hang out and pet the kittens- maybe you two could even adopt one sometime.

no matter what kind of art you do, she’ll give it endless amounts of praise when it’s finished; or while you’re working on something you’re clearly passionate about.

she thinks you’re beautiful, period point blank. very admirable too! overall, she thinks you’re very interesting and unique! nejire believes there's many things to be learned from someone like you, especially when you’ve been all over the world! (that’s what it sounds like to her anyway!)

you have such a sweet gf on your hands 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 take good care of lil ol’ nejire!

i also match you with ☆ 𝐘𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈 𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐀!

yachi finds it easy to stay devoted to her interests when you come along, for sure. she usually feels listless, but when something she loves so dearly enjoys such awesome things, she can find it within herself to love those things too! and if it means spending more time with the person she loves, then by god does that mean she’ll indulge all of the damn time.

you’re a really big role model to yachi, and honestly, she finds herself thinking about you so often! she wants to become as well rounded and develop her hobbies into cool skills like you can- she wants to be able to learn how to dedicate herself like you did and manage her time into learning a whole bunch of cool stuff!

she starts learning with you!

she’ll ask you to teach her about your languages formally- and she’ll take a whole bunch of cute notes in a notepad and study it whenever you’re not around to teach. she’s a very diligent girl when it comes to her studies, so you’ll find she’s a quick learner and picks up things easily.

she’s looking at you to teach her how to develop her own spine!! she’s a super shy little baby and your kindness and courage helps her break her out of her shell! at first she’ll be a bit skittish because she’s quite intimidated by people who are so big and bold!!! but she’ll warm up to you so quickly because of how nice you are.

y’all are so cute!!!

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #nejire hado #nejire hado x reader #yachi hitoka #yachi hitoka x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #🏐 hq! #haikyuu!! #sol.txt #Anonymous

[chapitre7]

Alexandria Chapter VII (End)

The Untamed [陈情令] | Mo Dao Zu Shi [魔道祖师] fanfiction

Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Yīng | Wei Wuxian (Wangxian)

Time Travel/Sci-Fi AU

Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | Chapter V | Chapter VI

Read on AO3

“Make sure to tell uncle that the academics at the Observatory find my ideas ingenious and that they’re all glad to have me.”

 “Mn.”

 “Tell him that they’ve said I have a natural talent for engineering and that they’re including me in a project before my studies are even over!”

 “Mn.”

 “We’re going to build our own little envoy to travel across space, Lan Zhan! Can you believe that?”

 Lan Zhan looks up from his pad at that, lips kissing Wei Ying’s temple before his head lies on Lan Zhan’s shoulder, its natural place.

 “Congratulations, Wei Ying.”

 Wei Ying turns his attention from own pad to beam up at Lan Zhan, pecking him on the lips before kicking the blanket off his feet, jumping down from the couch to hop towards the window. He lets his eyes travel across the brilliant night sky of Qishan, losing himself in questions. What was out there, beyond what his eyes could see? He had already learned so much at the Observatory, but he wanted to know more, see more. What manners of life were out there? What sort of colors, what sort of surfaces, what mountains and rivers, what flowers and sounds? Would he be able to see the birth of a star? He had been such a fool. He thought the world had an end and that he had reached it, but he had just stopped asking questions.

Shifting his attention, Wei Ying focuses on the reflection on the glass. Lan Zhan sits on the couch, typing a letter to his uncle that is both formal and personal, speaking of his achievements and his contentment. His feet are propped up on a low table, a minimal step toward foregoing propriety. His hair is still damp, messy after he himself ran his fingers through it, in all the little ways Wei Ying thinks him rebellious, unrestrained, comfortable in his own skin. He’s nothing like Wei Ying, who can’t keep his whole body on the couch at all times, always dangling sideways, one way or another, clinging or draping across Lan Zhan, shamelessly. His own reflection shows a young man, hair slightly longer than the norm, clad in cotton red robes that are both appropriate and reminiscent of a different Wei Ying. He smiles at himself, finger touching the glass, and in the space that he and Lan Zhan created for themselves, seemingly such a long, long time ago, before everything, before the ice and Wei Ying’s travels, out of order in the order of the universe but right in all the chronology of his heart, in the trusted intimacy between cultivator and his own confidante, Wei Ying allows himself to reminisce.

 “Lan Zhan,” he asks, eyes going out of focus entirely. “Do you still marry in red?”

 He doesn’t see Lan Zhan stopping his administrations on the pad, doesn’t notice him looking up at him with wide eyes.

 “You know, the last event I took part in Yunmeng was my sister’s wedding. I wasn’t entirely happy because it meant she was leaving, and that was actually what made me think about leaving too, but... Anyway, it was beautiful, you know? There was never a more beautiful event in Yunmeng, and there was never a more beautiful bride than my sister, wearing red and gold and the happiest smile I ever saw on her.”

 He looks up again, at the once called Nightless City, still as stunning as it once was, with the Observatory sitting at the highest spot on the land, aiming up, always looking up, at the boundless infinity.

 “I have so many memories of sister. She practically raised me because uncle Jiang and the Madame were... they had a sect to run and a son to train, and she wasn’t there when I left, so my last memory of her is the wedding and her following departure. She talked about the future like it was this amazing thing, and how no matter how far we were, she, Jiang Cheng and I would always be the closest we could be. And it... slipped my mind after a while.”

 Lan Zhan wraps an arm around his middle, gently pulls him back, against him, but says nothing to break his train of thought.

 “Jiang Cheng was so angry that I wanted to leave Yunmeng, and everybody looked so disappointed that—... I traveled until I didn’t know what I was looking for anymore, and I didn’t think I had anywhere to return to. But once I jumped into the water, I knew I had made a mistake, and I wanted to go back, but it was too late. I remember now, that my last thought was that they’d be disappointed in me in they knew. Even sister.”

 Lan Zhan speaks his name with indescribable emotion, low enough only for Wei Ying to hear, right next to his ear, his hold tightening, grounding him once again in the present they shared. Wei Ying looks up again, not at anything in particular, not at the constellations or the strokes of colors in the clouds; hr just rests his head back against Lan Zhan’s shoulders, hand rising to the glass on the window, ready to draw a new pattern, away from those last moments in dark waters.

 “Lan Zhan, nowadays, I keep seeing things that would make sister happy. All the homes of the sects that we learned and knew have changed drastically with the times, but children are still curious of all the things we have yet to see. There’s as much white as there is black in the world, as there will always be, and there are so many beautiful things in the middle, where we walk.” He laughs, turning in Lan Zhan’s half-embrace, resting his hands on shoulders that carry so much on them. “Am I making any sense? I’m rambling again.”

 Wei Ying doesn’t see the sheet on Lan Zhan’s other hand until he’s thrown it over him, hooding over his head, trailing down his back, all the way to the floor. Lan Zhan’s skin glows with the dim lights of the living room, so reminiscent of their late nights at the facility that Wei Ying doesn’t question it, embraces it, like he sees him covered in the night, illuminated by campfire, like they’re the wandering cultivation partners of his silliest reveries. Lan Zhan adjusts the sheet over him, so it doesn’t fall off, and Wei Ying, blushing bright like it’s the first time Lan Zhan has doted on him, such clear affection in every gesture, can only stare back at him with wide eyes.

 “Wei Ying,” he begins, adjusting Wei Ying’s hair under the sheet. “I’ll go to Yunmeng with you.”

 Wei Ying gapes like a fish out of water, like the many holograms at the Gusu hall.

 “We can find someplace where you can send your respects to your family and you can say everything you want to tell them.”

 “We can do that?”

 Lan Zhan tilts his head in a way that tells him he’s being silly again, and Wei Ying follows with a breathless laughter.

 “I mean, of course we can, I just...”

 Lan Zhan fills his ellipses with a kiss on his forehead, and Wei Ying inhales deeply, exhaling his worries and insecurities.

 “There’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. They’ll be proud of who you are. I am...” His ears are red, Wei Ying can see them, just like he notices the biting on his lower lip, and the slight trembling of his hands. “Honored that I had a chance to know you, honored to be with you now, like this.”

 “Lan Zhan!”

 Wei Ying lounges at him, and the sheet almost slips off, but Lan Zhan catches him, pats the sheet back over Wei Ying’s hair as he mumbles against his chest.

 “You can’t just say things like that! I’m an old man, Lan Zhan, think of my poor heart!”

 He hears and feels the vibrations of Lan Zhan’s chuckle and he’s warm, so warm on that autumn night with a makeshift veil over his frame.

 “Let’s go to Yunmeng, Wei Ying.”

 He nods, humming his response like Lan Zhan often does.

 “What will it look like at this time of the year?”

 Wei Ying hums again. “It’s prettier in the summer.”

 Lan Zhan leans down slightly, he’s not too much taller, but he leans down just to whisper against Wei Ying’s ear.

 “And in the summer, would you like to marry in red?”

 Wei Ying can hear nothing but the loud beating of his heart after that, as he pulls away to look at his companion, his patient teacher and friend, his partner and beloved. I never even told him how much I love him, Wei Ying thinks, and the thought is all it takes before he’s pulling him down and kissing his lips, savoring his taste and his breath when they part, guiding him back to the couch where he doesn’t have to worry about staying upright anymore, not when his legs are weak, too weak to carry the weight of all that he feels and all that he thinks about him, them, and their future. He tells him in-between kisses, in-between laughs and uncontrollable noises, he tells his betrothed, as he pulls down the red robe of their promise, he tells him that he loves him, that he loved him in Gusu, that he loves him in Qishan, and that he loved him worlds away, before everything. And after they’re undone in each other’s arms, he tells him he’ll love him still when they’re old, old together despite the gap in time, and if he can meet him in the yet distant future, nothing can keep him from loving him again, a thousand years from now.

 Lan Zhan, a man of science, a man of culture and written words, does not question him. He’s a romantic in heart and soul, so he can only promise the same in return.

 Outside, Qishan never sleeps, as it never slept, and never will.

 ***

 The troupe comes every year, during the summer, and the city is bright with every the color of every flower that exists, the streets alive with festivities and music.

 The celebrations peak at night, when the band marches through the city of Yunmeng, playing songs that have survived generations, and that have yet to suffer from the indifference of the population. The elderly clap along to the tunes side by side with the children, and the adults and the teenagers take videos and pictures and share the elaborated dances with all of the world, everybody joining in the cheer.

 This year, there’s a man playing the dizi leading the troupe along, following or introducing every new melody as if he doesn’t even breathe. His red veil waves back and forth with the movements of his feet, secured in place, never faltering, and when he swirls, mesmerizing, he looks like he’s underwater, the soft fabric of his wedding garment swaying with grace, the golden jewelry in his hair tingling, complementing the music. He’s a sight never before seen, and the crowd loves him, throws flowers at his feet, wave at him from everywhere.

 His sharp, trained eyes never strays from the man in red that accompanies the troupe by the sidelines, in front of the crowd of Yunmeng citizens, and he winks at him, plays for him, dances, celebrates, loves him with everything that he is and does. Every now and then, Wei Ying thinks he sees a familiar face in the crowd. Jiang Cheng, rolling his eyes at his parade. Jiang Yanli, eyes sparkling with a baby in her arms. Wen Qing and Wen Ning, one exasperated and the other fascinated, enjoying the evening before going back to Yiling; he can’t accompany them, not anymore. He sees them all, old companions, old friends and family, and thinks about how lost he had to be to think he was ever alone. He twirls the black dizi Lan Zhan gave him in skilled fingers and plays a different song, the band promptly joining him, a song to scare the shadows away, a song to cleanse the soul, a song for joy. And no one but he can see how there are real shadows shying away from the crowd, vanishing into the night, resentment failing before the brilliance of his core.

 Out the corner of his eyes, he sees a small child, not older than six, peering up at him while adults carelessly shove him around with their legs. Wei Ying stops playing, heads in his direction, while the band marches on.

 “Hey there,” Wei Ying speaks loudly, over the music. “Do you like the dizi?”

 The boy nods, eyes big and round, taking in Wei Ying’s whole outfit. He’s red like fire, like passion, like the most beautiful flowers and the scorching dusk in the summer. He’s like everything that burns, but his touch is gentle, petting the boy’s head.

 “Where are your parents?”

 The boy’s eyes grow even bigger as he shakes his head and says nothing. Wei Ying can see his reflection on them, can see a child, lost in time, before a man, gentle and vibrant like a lotus flower, offering him a hand.

 “What’s your name?”

 “A... A-Yuan.”

 Wei Ying grins, happy and wide, because it’s his wedding night, and he offers the child his hand. He learned from Lan Zhan that time often repeats itself, in both the good and the bad, and it depends only on us which of the two sides prevails in the end.

 “Do you want to learn how to play the dizi, A-Yuan? We can hunt ghosts together!”

 A-Yuan blinks his eyes at him in obvious wonder. Wei Ying bites down a laughter, because he doesn’t want the child to think he’s joking in anything he’s offering.

 “We can hunt ghosts with a dizi?”

 “We sure can! And my husband can use the guqin, but he’s still pretty bad at it, so if you’re a really good student, you can be better than him!”

 Someone clears their throat and Wei Ying laughs before he peers up at his husband.

 “Lan Zhan! I’m not even lying!”

 “My teacher says I’m a model student.”

 “I’m your teacher too and I refute that claim!”

 “Only one of you has actually taught how to properly play a song from start to finish without straying from the sheet music.”

 “It’s called playing with your heart, Lan Zhan, and it has to be felt and not taught.”

 A-Yuan looks between the two men with wonder. The one crouched before him is beautiful with his veil but the other standing is beautiful as well, the golden embroidery on his clothes shining in the night. The child is used to adults yelling at him for stealing food, wholly unaccustomed to the playful banter between the adults, and smiles they don’t spare to each other or even to him.

 “What do you say, A-Yuan? Do you want to come with us?”

 He focuses on the man before him again, on his out-stretched hand and the tassel of the dizi that swishes around as if the man never stopped moving.

 So he takes the hand of the flutist, who swiftly picks him up in his arms. He squeaks and the man can only laugh, but it’s not mean, it’s warm, warm like the red he wears and that brightens up the whole of Yunmeng. The other man asks A-Yuan if he’s hungry, and he nods enthusiastically, making him smile a golden smile that makes A-Yuan shy, hiding his face away on the veiled stranger’s shoulder.

 “See, Lan Zhan? I keep telling you your smiles are too much to handle. Don’t worry, A-Yuan, you’ll have time to get used to how wonderful Lan Zhan is. He’s gonna pamper you rotten.”

 Wei Ying has never had a disciple. He’s never had much of a legacy, since he quit the Yunmeng Jiang sect and got frozen in ice before the world discovered that he was the most talented cultivator of his generation. But now he has Lan Zhan, and his promise of eternal companionship. He has young alumni from Gusu Facility running and laughing behind the troupe, celebrating their senior’s wedding, who look up at both him and Lan Zhan with stars in their eyes. He has research partners, he has a dream, and looking up at the sky of Yunmeng, he tells his family about the new family he’s found himself.

 He feels Lan Zhan’s hand rest on the middle of his back, in lieu of taking his hands, now full of A-Yuan. His husband looks exasperated and tired and happy, all at once, his eyes small and shining. Wei Ying gives him a wink, flashes an apologetic smile, but laughs despite himself, causing A-Yuan to shift in his arms to look at him.

 “Mister, are you going to play more?”

 “My disciple wants more? Okay, one more song, then we’re going to rest for the night!”

 Wei Ying sets A-Yuan down, and Lan Zhan instantly takes the child’s hand. They both look at Wei Ying as the spins his song, a song of Gusu, a song of peace, that harmonizes with the spirits of the living and the dead, sending all souls into peace and tranquility.

 That night, A-Yuan sleeps in the room of an equally beautiful mister called Xichen, who seems to think all things are funny. Wei Ying apologizes to his husband for his impulsive decision but Lan Zhan doesn’t even sigh, as he usually does, when Wei Ying acts impossible. He just lifts the veil, steals the words right out of Wei Ying’s throat, and loves him, whispering in Wei Ying’s ancient tongue, always meeting him where he is, crashing on him with the weight of the winds of the Cloud Recesses, where now sits the place where Wei Ying was reborn from ice, and Lan Zhan from fire.

 They’re warriors, both of them. Their names and tales already engraved in history, in libraries all over the land.

***

I'd like to thank everyone who stayed with me this far, for reading and leaving me messages and filling my heart. I'm not as good at replying to comments as I once was; I'm still getting used to how things are when I'm inspired and writing and having people following me. It's been long. This isn't my first Untamed story, I still have lingering WIPs from September, but it's the first that made me stop everything that I was doing and share as quick as possible because I was feeling it so much. I was (and really, still am) struggling with characterization, so thank you for the patience, and thank you for understanding where I wanted to take this. Beneath all of the soft touches lies a delicate matter in this fic that I may not have portrayed as best as one should, but I hope the message that stays is this: you're never really alone and we must always allow others to reach us. We can heal. We can move. And we are worthy of love.

Thank you for everything, and may we see each other again.

Happy new year. ❤

- Lily M.

#The Untamed #Mo Dao Zu Shi #fanfiction #Wangxian #Lan Wangji #Wei Wuxian #Alternate Universe: Science-fiction #alternate universe: time travel

[khiphop-stories]

Umbrella - Chapter IV

[Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III]

Lesson Four: A Little Gesture of Kindness

[Christian Yu, DPR Live]

You lost count of how many times you had already snoozed your alarm. If it were up to you, you would just lie around in bed lazily for the rest of the day, catching up on your very much needed sleep. You weren’t able to close your eyes at all last night. The horrifying images of the movie kept popping up in your head and you could have sworn that you heard noises from outside, but you were too afraid to check; so you just hid yourself under the blanket, hoping the night would pass by quickly.

However, sleeping all day wasn’t an option. There were just too many obligations you had to meet. Letting out a long breath, you slowly sat up straight. When you heard clanking noises coming from outside of your room, you immediately jumped out of the bed and rushed into the living room with excitement.



“Hana! You’re back!” You shouted joyfully and gave her a big hug. Surprised by your warm welcome which was very unlike you, she gave you a weird look. One of her hands was holding her bowl of cereal, cautious not to let the milk swap over, while the other was tapping your shoulders reluctantly.

“Why are you still here? Aren’t you supposed to be in university?”

“No, I have a job interview today… and I should probably hurry up,” you said after a short glance at the watch on your wrist.



“Another job?” She arched up her eyebrows at you as you headed to the bathroom.

 You had taken on a variety of jobs ever since Hana had gotten to know you. From babysitting to delivery, you had done it all, before finally settling for working as a waitress in a luxury restaurant. They payment was enough to live by. Thus you didn’t have to keep the other part-time jobs anymore.

“It’s an unpaid internship, but the company’s huge. If I they offer me a permanent position after my internship, I’ll never have to worry about money again,” you told her with a smile, before disappearing behind the door to the bathroom.

~*~



After taking one last glance at the mirror, you nodded your head confidently and told yourself encouraging words. You could do it. It was just an interview. You simply had to be yourself. There was no need to be nervous.  Hana gave you a supportive thumbs up and wished you luck.

You grabbed your bag from the floor and put on your heels. Then you opened the door, ready to head outside. At the other side of the door Dabin was standing with his arm raised and his hand clenched to a fist, as though he was just about to knock. Your eyes widened in surprise and so did his. 



“Wow…” his mouth dropped open.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him in confusion.



“You look really pretty,” he mumbled under his breath and you stared at him dumbfounded, wondering why he would suddenly tell you something like this. But then you remembered that you had dolled yourself up, because of the interview and it was probably his first time seeing you like this.

Living right across the hallway, he witnessed you in all kind of ridiculous states. The I-just-woke-up, the I-haven’t-washed-my-hair-for-days, the I’m-literally-dead and many more, however, it was his first time seeing you all dressed up with full on make up on your face.


“Do you need something?” You broke the awkward silence.



“Oh right!” He shook his head violently as though he had just woken up from trance. “We’re out of eggs and—“



“Sure, just come in, Hana’s in the living room,” you smiled at him and took a step aside, leaving the door open for him to pass through.



“Are you going on a date?” He asked you with curiosity in his voice.



“Dressed like this?” You let out a chuckle, shaking your head. “What kind of dates are you going on? That’s way too formal for a date!”

“I have a job interview,” you explained.



“Well that’s way too pretty for an interview! Are you trying to seduce them?” He replied with a laugh. Although you tried to conceal the nervousness that grew with every second, it was pretty obvious and he had noticed it immediately. Thus, he tried to ease your tension with a light joke and also boost up your confidence.

“It nothing works, that will be my last resort,” you responded playfully, giving him a wink. “But I really gotta go now,” you hurriedly waved at him and dashed into the direction of the elevator.

“Good luck, Jenn!” He shouted after you encouragingly. 

~*~

It was the same route that you walked every single morning and every night. The route from your apartment to the bus station and the other way round. In the morning you could barely keep your eyes open. You always walked along the roads with heavy steps and your eyelids almost closed while regretting not going to sleep earlier. At night, you were so worn out from work that your body felt numb, so you walked along the short path being half-alive and half-dead while your brain and soul had already passed into a different dimension.

However, today you strolled back to your apartment with light steps and a big grin on your face, feeling content with yourself. It seemed as though you were finally getting somewhere in your life. All of your hard work was finally starting to show results.

Just a couple of meters in front of the entrance you bumped into Dabin again who was accompanied by Christian. They two of them were probably heading out for work. Sometimes you envied them, they were their own bosses. They could choose when to work and what to do, depending on their mood. But that didn’t mean they were slacking, they were so passionate about their work, it was impressive. Dabin had shown you some of his tracks a couple of times and you always admired his talent. He was constantly writing new songs. Christian also put in so much work to make their little company grow. He had meetings almost every other day and he stayed up all night, editing videos and creating concept ideas. Their passion was burning and you secretly admired them for it.

But, the courage they had to pursue their dreams and the risks and uncertainty that came along, wasn’t something you possessed. You preferred the safe way, the quickest path to success, to money.

Christian and Dabin both raised their eyebrows at you when they saw you. The two of them had an amused expression plastered across their faces. 


“You seem to be in a good mood,” Christian laughed.

“I got the position!” You told them enthusiastically, a wide grin curling up on your red lips.



“Oh! Congratulations!” They both said in unison and gave you a warm congratulatory hug. 

After having a little small talk, you bid goodbye, heading into the opposite direction. 
You were opening the door of the entrance, when Christian called your name out of the sudden, making you swirl around again. You gave him a questioning look and waited for him to say something.



“You should smile more often. It suits you,” he told you as his lips curved upwards.

~*~

Today was one of the very rare days where you didn’t have to go to work on a Friday night. At first you thought about taking a long bath and burying your head in a good book. However, your friends had different plans for you in mind. 
There was a Halloween party at the club and they insisted that you should join them. For one, because you haven’t been able to spend much time with them due to juggling between your part-time job and your studies and in addition to that, they also wanted to celebrate you getting the internship in one of Korea’s biggest conglomerates. Their selection process was known to be extremely though. Some of your classmates had tried it before, but none of them ever managed to pass the second round. You did wonder why they had chosen you. 
Your grades were good, but of course there was always someone who was better than you. You attended a prestigious university, but so did your classmates and they didn’t pass. So that couldn’t be the reason either.
 You had great social skills and you were convinced they liked the answers you gave to even the most tricky questions, however, in such a competitive society, even that wouldn’t have been enough. You had nothing in you résumé that was particularly outstanding or special. Neither did you have a powerful family to back you up. But maybe, it was the combination of all that. Maybe it was your hard work that finally got acknowledge. Maybe your perseverance and your ambition were finally paying off; or maybe it was just pure luck.

You had no idea why they settled for you, but you didn’t care very much either. It didn’t matter. In the end you got the spot and if you did well, they would hire your for a permanent position. That was all that mattered to you for now. 

~*~

So here you were, all dressed up in a room filled with sweaty people and loud trap music. 


Clubbing wasn’t your really your “thing”, but you had to admit it was a lot fun with the right people. It felt good to forget about everything that weighed you down once it while and alcohol always did a great job in achieving that.

You were on the dance floor with your friends and a drink in your hands, moving your body along to the beat when they announced a new DJ. They shouted his name into the mic, hyping up the crowd and you immediately turned your head to the DJ booth. He was someone you knew and had a lot of respect for. Someone you looked up to. He was the first person you had met in university as he was assigned as your mentor. Since then he had become a great source of support to you. Not only regarding things involving your studies, but also personal matters. However, one day he just wasn’t there anymore. He dropped out to focus on his career in the music business and it was hard to keep in touch with him.



“I’ll go say hello real quick,” you shouted into your friend’s ear and pointed to the heightened platform.

You tried to weave through the crowd and it was harder than you thought. There was a lot of booty-grabbing and dick-grinding and some point some guy even stopped you, trying to push his tongue down your throat, but luckily you managed to escape just in time. There was a security guard standing right next to the booth. He saw you coming into his direction so he threw you a glare. Intimidated by his strong build, you dismissed the idea straightaway. You took a step back and were about to retreat, when you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. You immediately turned your head around and were greeted by a big smile.

“You gotta stop creeping up on me like that,” you laughed at him. 



“Why? You wanna punch me again?” He crossed his arms over his chest, sheltering himself from any possible attacks.

“No, I wouldn’t dare hit a cat. That would be animal abuse,” you let out a chuckle as your eyes wandered to the little black cat ears on top of his head.

“Hyeri made me wear it,” he let out an embarrassed chuckled and immediately removed the headband from his head. “Why? Don’t take it off. It looks cute,” you made fun of him with a grin on your lips. “You wear it, I’ll just say I lost it,” he put the black thing on your head. “What do you want to do about the whiskers though?” You pointed to the black lines on his cheeks. 

“I can’t hide my inner cat, huh?” He laughed out loud while rolling his eyes.

“You wanna go backstage?” He then asked you out of the blue, remembering why he approached you in the first place.

“Not really, I just wanted to say hi to Ju Kyung,” you told him.

“You know him?” He looked at you, surprised that you didn’t refer to him by his stage name. You nodded your head briefly in response. Usually you would explain how you got to know him, but it was too loud in the club to have a proper conversation, especially since you two were standing close to the speakers. Christian gave a sign to the security guard who then immediately helped you to get through the crowd to the backstage area. You wanted to thank Christian, but when you turned around he was already gone. Shrugging your shoulders you walked to the DJ booth. The moment Ju Kyung saw you, he immediately reached his hands out, to help you get onto the platform. 

You did a little chitchat with him, catching up a bit and then returned to the place where your friends were. 

That night, you also spotted Dabin in the crowd and he acknowledged your presence with a bright smile and a nod. It was odd just how many coincidental encounters you had with them. Ever since they became you neighbors you bumped into them seemingly everywhere. It was a little world, wasn’t it?

~*~

After dancing and moving around so much, your body began dehydrating and you became thirsty. It was time to get some liquid into your system, preferably something strong. Walking over to the bar you raised your arms to signal the bartender that you wanted to order something, but instead of taking you order he placed a cocktail in front of you without words.

That was quick, you thought. You hadn’t been at the bar for even a full second and somebody was already trying to hit on you?

“Who is it from?” You asked the bartender and he just pointed to the note under the glass in response.

You lifted the glass and took the piece of paper in between your fingers. A smile curled onto your lips when you read what was written on it.



“Congratulations on your internship! Enjoy yourself! You deserved it! :) 
— Dabin

  P.S. Thought I was a creep, didn’t you lol
                  You can drink it without any worries, I didn’t put anything inside :P”

#dpr live #christian yu #dpr live scenarios #christian yu scenarios #khh scenarios #khh imagines #hong dabin #khiphop scenarios #dabin #finally a gif with christian and dabin in it lol #umbrella

[archaeologysucks]

Who wants to read my dissertation on the Knights Templar?

I earned my degrees in the UK, first at the University of St Andrews, and then at the University of Sheffield. My first degree was only technically an archaeology degree. Really, it was a Mediaeval History degree, plus one class on archaeological theory. There was no field school or practical component. St Andrews did not offer one. I knew I needed more training, so I decided to do a one year MA at Sheffield, which has a great archaeology department.

When I started at Sheffield, I had just recently read Umberto Eco’s novel, Foucault’s Pendulum (to this day, one of my favourite books), so I already knew how much BS had been written about the Templars over the years (spoiler: it’s a lot). But I was fascinated by the true story of the Templars, so I decided to do my dissertation on them.

Maybe everyone feels this way about their dissertation, but by the end of it, I just wanted it to be done. It only had to be 15k-20k words, but at the time, that felt like a lot. It was 2002, so there was a lot less info available online, and a lot of research has to be done the old fashioned way. I had other factors going on in my life that contributed to the problem. Looking back now, it’s pretty easy to see that I was depressed. All I knew then was that I hated everything, it was nearly impossible to weed through all the Templar BS to find actual credible information, and the only thing that could cheer me up was listening to Christmas music 24/7 ... in the middle of September.

So anyway. Here it is. My Masters dissertation on the iconography of the Knights Templar, written in 2002. It’s not good and it’s not scholarly. I don’t recommend anyone use it as a source for anything. But maybe some of you will find it mildly interesting or entertaining. Or you could do yourselves a favour and just read Helen Nicholson’s books on the subject. Or read Foucault’s Pendulum. Yeah, you should do that....

(Thank you, Wayback Machine, for archiving the first four sections. It turns out I didn’t actually have an uncorrupted copy on my computer. Since the alternative was trying to dig up a printed copy and fix all the corrupted sections, I’ve just left them as-is, with a note where I noticed any corrupted passages. Anything else that does not make sense is probably due to similar corruption. Or else I just wrote a bad paper.)

The Iconography of the Knights Templar

Abstract

From their formation in 1119 to their dissolution in 1312, the Order of the Temple used many images and symbols to represent themselves. Among the most frequently used of these symbols were the various seals of the Order, the clothing they wore, and the arms they carried with them into battle.

The meaning of the seal of the Grand Master of the Temple is very ambiguous, and is discussed here at length, with shorter segments on the seals used by the masters of the European houses, and some information on the use of seals in general during this period.

The habit of the Order evolved over time, and the meanings behind its aspects are more clearly described in contemporary literature than those of the Order's seals. The symbolism of the Templars' habit and arms is connected through the use of St George's cross, but I will also be treating the beauseant, the Templar's less commonly known emblem.

These symbols demonstrated the image the Templars wished to present to the world. I will look at where these symbols came from, when they first appeared, how they came to be used, and what they meant to the Templars and their contemporaries. The meanings of some symbols have been lost, and in some cases, educated guesses by modern scholars are all the is available. Some of the problems of interpretation modern scholars have encountered in studying the Templars and their symbols are also discussed in this paper.

Sources and Acknowledgments

Wherever possible, I have attempted to use the most authoritative academic sources currently available. I am especially indebted to Dr Helen Nicholson for her recent book The Knights Templar, a New History and for her personal help in suggesting useful sources such as Malcolm Barber and Alan Forey. I am also indebted to such freely available online sources as the Online Reference Book for Medieval Studies, the Catholic Encyclopedia and the Internet Medieval Sourcebook, for providing so much valuable information and so many original sources in English translations.

In some places, I have used more controversial sources, such as Peter Partner, Stephan Dafoe and a couple websites which claim to represent current incarnations of the Order, not because I believe their information to be historically significant--or even particularly accurate--but to show some of the less likely origins and meaning currently applied to Templar symbols. Wherever I have used examples from these sources, I have endeavoured to point out their fallibility.

Many of the excellent historical sources on the Templars that I looked at had little to say on the subject of the symbols I discuss, or little that was not said just as well in the sources covered in my bibliography, and I was therefore unable to include them.

Introduction

A Brief History of the Templar Order

Before one can properly look at the iconography of the Knights Templar, one must have a clear understanding of the Order, how it came about, what it represented, and how it came to an end.

Formally known as "The Poor Knights of Christ of the Temple in Jerusalem", they were more commonly known in their own time and today as the Order of the Temple or the Knights Templar. The Order was founded in 1119 by Sir Hugh de Payens, a crusading knight from Champagne, and eight of his crusader comrades, also of the lesser nobility. After the First Crusade was over at the beginning of the twelfth century, most of the people involved felt that they had completed the task for which they had signed up, and could now return home. However, it was necessary for someone to stay and guard the West's interests in the Holy Land, and thus the Knights Templar were born.

The Rule of the Order was approved by the Church ten years later in 1129 at the Council of Troyes. This put the Templars on a par of importance with other holy Orders of their day, such as the Cistercians, though their purpose was very different. The Templars were a military Order. Their purpose, initially, was to act as protectors of Christian pilgrims on the road to Jerusalem. Over the following two centuries, they became western Christendom's most enthusiastic defenders against the Muslims, as well as one of Europe's leading and most trusted banking houses. The Order had a great deal of political and social influence, and was known and respected throughout Europe and the Near East.

In 1307, nearly two hundred years after the Order was founded, the King of France, Philip IV, accused them of heresy, blasphemy and perversion, as well as conspiring with the Muslims, with whom the Templars had made treaties. However, the consensus of modern historians is that he did this, not because he believed these accusations to be true, but because he hoped to lay hands on the vast wealth the Order had accumulated.

Hollister (1982, p. 267) suggests that Philip may have convinced himself that the charges were true, but that the king had to pay his witnesses to testify demonstrates that public opinion was not necessarily against the Order. The king's statement ("If some among them are innocent, it is expedient that they should be assayed like gold in the furnace and purged by proper judicial examination." Royal letter opening the Inquiry into the Templars 1307 [Anonymous 2002, Ancient Templar Quotes]), though, upon opening the Templar inquiry suggests that Philip did not care greatly whether the Templars were guilty or not. In any case, the charges against the Templars were never proved, but some of the brothers confessed under torture, and many French Templars were burnt at the stake after retracting these confessions.

Pope Clement V was forced to officially dissolve the Order in 1312, because it had fallen too far into disrepute to function any longer (Nicholson 2001, p. 12). All of the Templars' property and their archives were inherited by the Knights Hospitaller, another military Order. Popular legend holds that the Templar Order continued to function, unofficially and underground for centuries following their dissolution, but such tales spring mainly from the romantic revival of the Templars in the eighteenth and nineteenth century, and there is no historical or archaeological evidence that they are founded in truth.

Research Problems

Over the course of nearly two hundred years, the Knights Templar adopted and used many symbols to represent themselves. In the centuries since their dissolution, these symbols have acquired an air of mystery, which has made their interpretation problematic. The main difficulty is the abundance of sensational texts which have been written about the Order since accusations were first brought against them in 1307. These texts often suggest that their was some truth behind the French king's accusations, including occult practices and devil worship.

The accusations, backed up by the testimony of paid witnesses, and spread officially and by rumour around Europe, caused the Templars to be demonised in the eyes of the public, and this demonisation lead to the destruction of much contemporary information, either intentionally, through the people's anger at the Templars' betrayal of their trust, or through neglect, because people did not see any need to preserve the memory of the Order.

The majority of surviving contemporary texts concerning the Order were written by outsiders, whose understanding of Templar symbolism was limited, affected by hearsay, and sometimes not recorded at all. Three main factors contribute to this lack of first hand documentation: first, the Templars were not scholars, they were warriors. While other holy Orders devoted themselves to scholarship, the Templars were busy fighting Christendom's battles. Few of the brothers were able to read more than their own native language, and in some Templar houses, learning was frowned upon.

Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, who was instrumental in the writing of the Rule of the Templars, and whom the Templars greatly respected, preached a doctrine of the superiority of love to knowledge (Seward 1972, p. 11). In fact, the Order considered educated brothers more likely to ask troublesome spiritual questions, which the uneducated commanders and masters of the Templars would find difficult to answer (Nicholson 2001, p. 12).

The second factor contributing to our lack of knowledge is that the Order's central archive has been lost. It was first held at Jerusalem, but was moved, along with the Templar headquarters, to Acre, after Jerusalem was lost to the West in 1187, and then to Cyprus after the fall of Acre in 1291. Following the dissolution of the Order, these records passed into the keeping of the Knights Hospitaller, who kept them on Cyprus until the island was taken by the Turks in 1571, at which point the records were presumably destroyed (Nicholson 2001, p. 8).

The third factor is that the Templars and their contemporaries knew what these symbols meant, and assumed that everyone else did as well. There was no need to describe in detail the reasoning behind the choice of this colour or that symbol. Neither the Templars nor their contemporaries felt it needful to record these facts, which were--to them--common knowledge, as well as being minor details compared to the task they had set themselves of defending Christendom. In such ways, common knowledge often becomes lost.

These substantial gaps in our knowledge of the Templar Order have, over the last few centuries, been filled in by myth, legend and hearsay. With the romantic revival of the Templars in the 17th and 18th centuries, new symbols were invented, or uprooted from their historical context, and given new significance. These new symbols and meanings often corroborated the Templars' legendary connections with the occult, which modern society largely finds romantic and intriguing, rather than frightening, enhancing the reputation of the Neo-Templar Order. Many writers--and some historians--have become so caught up in the myth and mystery of the Templars that the facts have become muddled and difficult to disentangle.

One would think to find many symbols of the Order preserved in the architecture of Templar churches and houses, but according to Ritook (1994, p. 176), though the masonry was generally of high quality, no special Templar iconography is displayed in the masonry. In my research, I have found nothing to refute his observations. Templar symbolism in architecture seems to be a more recent development--a result of the romantic revival of later centuries. These Neo-Templars apparently had greater need for recognition of their association with Templar imagery that the original Order.

Despite the substantial gaps in our knowledge of the Order of the Temple, a great deal has been written--both contemporary with the Order and by modern historians--on the Templars and their iconography. In this paper, I have tried to assemble a comprehensive, if brief, discourse on a few of the Order's symbols, namely their seals, habit and arms. I will be covering many theories, some of them my own, and attempting to determine the probability of each, as well as explaining why some suggestions could not be true.

The Grand Master's Seal

"At first although they were active in arms they were so poor that they only had one war horse between two. As a result, and as a record of their early poverty and as an encouragement to be humble, there was inscribed upon their seal two men riding one horse." -- Matthew Paris, Historia Anglorum, 1250 (Nicholson 2001, p. 46)

The Importance of Seals

From ancient times, the seal--an individualised wax impression--was the equivalent of the modern signature. Though a literate person could use his signature in conjunction with a seal, even an illiterate person was able to use a seal to show his approval of a document. Affixing a seal was an acknowledgment of a document's authenticity. It was also a declaration that the person or group whose seal was affixed approved of the content of the document, or declared it to be the truth.

Matthew Paris, in his Chronica Majora, twice accuses the Templars of spreading false rumours under their seal. "From then onwards" the chronicler wrote, "we regarded such letters, even if they were true, with more suspicion and dislike." (Vaughan 1984, pp. 193, 217). As we can see, one had to be very careful about what one affixed one's seal to. If one attested to the truth of a statement, using a seal, and the statement was found to be false, one's reputation could be irreparably damaged.

The Grand Masters of the Temple took special care of their seal, to ensure that it would not be misused. It was kept in a locked compartment which required three keys to open. The Grand Master himself kept one of these keys, and two of his high officials held the others (Upton-Ward 1992, p. 41).

A seal affixed to a letter identified the author of that letter, as well as ensuring the security of the information within. Each seal was unique and hand made, which made forgery very difficult. Anything associated with a person's seal reflected on that person, and the imagery used for the seal was also meant to say something about the person who used it.

People used images of animals, words and letters, buildings and other symbols, often taken from their heraldry, deeds they had performed, or their family names. The Templars, like any other individual or group, would have needed a seal whose imagery expressed something positive and fundamental about their organisation.

Two Knights on Horseback

Probably the most instantly recognisable image used by the Templars is that of two knights astride a single horse. Matthew Paris, a thirteenth century English monk and chronicler from St Albans, has left us two examples of this image, one in his Chronica Majora (Plate 1), and another in his Historia Anglorum (Plate 2). Both the Historia and the Chronica were written in about 1250, which was relatively late in Templar history--only about 60 years before the Order was dissolved.

Matthew Paris did not think highly of the Templars, as I mentioned above. He thought they were ambitious and worldly (Vaughan 1958, p. 138), and that if they were really trying, they should have been able to defeat the Muslims. He was not alone in thinking these thing, but this point of view demonstrates how little Western writers knew about the situation in the East (Nicholson 2002, p. 7 and Forey 1992, p. 201-2).

Because they were a military Order, they had set a task for themselves at which they could be seen to succeed or fail (Nicholson 2002, p. 14). While contemplative Orders spent their time in prayer, the Templars were fighting battles, the outcome of which, as people believed at the time, was dependent upon God's favour. Their contemporaries would have seen their apparent lack of success on the field of battle as symptomatic of some spiritual failing within the Order. The fact that the Templars sometimes made treaties with the Muslims, instead of just killing them, was, to these people, proof that the Templars were not doing their job.

Despite the low opinion of Matthew Paris and his contemporaries, his depictions are accurate representation of a Templar symbol, since they are copied from the Grand Master of the Order's official seal. He did not, however, realise that the seal's image did not date from the foundation of the Order.

This image of two men on horseback originally appeared nearly one hundred years earlier than Matthew Paris's illustrations, in 1158 as the seal of the Grand Master of the Temple (Plate 3), Bertrand de Blanchefort, and is the earliest known seal for the Grand Master of the Temple (Nicholson 1995, p. 108), forty years after the Order was formed. Use of this symbol continued under subsequent Grand Masters for as long as the Order survived, however the seal went through more than one incarnation. As you can see, de Blanchefort's seal in 1168 is not the same one used by Reynaut de Vichiers (Plate 5), who was Master of the Temple from 1255-1259. The symbol is the same, but it is obviously not the same seal.

The Grand Master was the head of the Order of the Temple, and since the Order was a military one, his title would have been akin to that of General. His position was based in Jerusalem until 1187 when the headquarters were moved to Acre, then in 1291 to Cyprus. There were twenty-three Grand Masters of the Temple between Hughes de Payens in 1118 and Jacques de Molay in 1314.

There are many theories among historians as to the meaning of the Grand Master's seal. One is that it is a reference to the Templars' vow of poverty, but symbolically, rather than as a representation of an actual occurrence, though contemporary Templar legend would have us believe otherwise (Nicholson 1995, p. 108). Two men in full armor riding a single horse in battle would be a disadvantage at best and fatal at worst, as well as being an impossible burden for the horse.

Contemporary legend held that the symbol represented the initial poverty of the Order; that they could afford only a single horse for every two men. However, the Rule of the Order from the outset permitted three horses and no more for each knight (Upton-Ward 1992, p. 32). Judith Upton-Ward disagrees with Matthew Paris, and other chroniclers who insist on this origin myth, doubting that the image was ever practiced (Upton-Ward 1992, p. 104). Accounts of the origins of the Templars vary widely in their descriptions, and were all written long after the actual founding. The truth was that it took a few years after the Order was founded before word really got around of their existence.

By de Blanchefort's inauguration as Grand Master, the Templars' resources were impressive, but a rapid expansion of military activity during his Grand Mastery drove the Order into debt, and even caused de Blanchefort to suffer a nervous breakdown (Riley-Smith 1987, p. 59), So perhaps the seal was a symbol of caution and economy.

The Order had earned itself a money grubbing reputation in the West by de Blanchefort's time, since all western Templar activity was devoted to the collecting of funds for support of the eastern brothers in their struggles against the Muslims, so the seal may have served to remind the brothers of the need for humility. Outfitting, arming, training and keeping large numbers of men and horses is an expensive business. The customs and statutes of the Order show a distinct fear of poverty and stress the need to economise wherever possible (Nicholson 2001, p. 46). Loss of funding could easily have meant the end of the Order. Even with all the funding they were able to collect, at the height of the Order's prosperity they were only able to put a few hundred men on horseback, though there were many more foot soldiers among the sergeants of the Order (Nicholson 2001, p. 54). The Templars' financial difficulties would have been much on de Blanchefort's mind about the time he created the seal.

Another suggestion found in the more sensational sources, is that this symbol is proof of the homosexuality of which the brothers were accused by the King of France in 1307 (Dafoe & Butler 2002, Seal). I consider this theory to be one of the least likely, since, although homosexuality did undoubtedly exist in medieval Europe, and holy orders were a refuge for those who did not wish to marry, and sought the company of their own sex, such relationships were never sanctioned by the Church. In fact, the Rule of the Order states, "for if any brother does not take the vow of chastity he cannot come to eternal rest nor see God," (Upton-Ward 1992, p. 24). It is fair to presume that the writers of the Rule meant for such a vow to be kept.

Perhaps some of the brothers were so inclined, but the idea that homosexuality was common and accepted--even official--practice among the members of the Order is unthinkable. For the Grand Master of the Temple to openly endorse such a practice by adopting a symbol of it as his official seal would have been an affront to the authority and beliefs of the Church, not to mention a deliberate transgression against the Order's vow of chastity (Upton-Ward 1992, p. 24).

In fact, measures were taken within the Order to check homosexual practice: the brothers were encouraged not to bathe, so that no one would see their naked bodies, and they were to sleep with the lamps lit so that shameful acts could not be hidden by darkness (Dafoe & Butler 2002, Garments). The Rule of the Order mentions that the brothers should sleep dressed, and that their sleeping area is to remain lit, but does not give a reason. However, this was common to all monastic Orders of the period, and homosexual practices may have been--if not the main reason--at least one of the reasons for it (Upton-Ward 1992, p. 25)

I contacted Stephan Dafoe about contemporary sources for the connection between the seal and homosexual practices among the Templars, but he was unable to provide satisfactory answers, stating only that it is mentioned somewhere in the records of the trial. He himself does not adhere to this theory. I was able to confirm no such suggestion contemporary with the Order, so I must conclude that this idea arose out of later rumour. While certainly many of the charges brought against the Templars were of homosexual practices, the inquisitors were only concerned with events which had happened involving people still living, not with de Blanchefort and his seal.

Franklyn (1963, p. 139) associates the Pegasus, a mythical winged horse, with the Templars. Two men seated on a horse would, from a distance, he suggests, convey "an impression of a horse with a pair of wings raised as if ready to become volant." He goes on to tell us that, for this reason, the Knights Templar chose the Pegasus as their device. I have found no other source which mentions the mythical horse in association with the Order, so I am inclined to doubt a historical link between them. Besides this, as I stated above, there could not have been an actual occurrence associated with the seal, and therefore, nothing to be seen at a distance, as Franklyn suggests.

De Blanchefort did not leave behind his reason for choosing the seal for himself and his Templar brothers, and so we can never with any certainty know why he chose it. It seems most reasonable to me that his choice was symbolic, as Selwood (2001, p. 173) suggests, having to do with the dual nature of the knighthood. The brothers were two things at once and, in a way, two people at once--two men on the same horse. They were warriors, but they were also monks. By their vows they were poor, but in practice the Order was wealthy. They were worldly men, but in many ways withdrawn from the world.

This may not have been all that de Blanchefort meant by it; there may be some truth to a few of the other theories, or perhaps something altogether different was being suggested. Maybe the Grand Master was making a connection with the verse in the gospel of Matthew (18:20) which says, "For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them." (Anonymous 1997, Gospel of Matthew), or suggesting that Christ rides with each of the brothers--though this is unlikely, since images of Christ were very stylised during the Medieval period (Plate 20, 21, 22).

De Blanchefort chose a symbol which, to him, best represented the spirit of the Order, and it is usually the case that the best symbols have many layers of meaning.

Men of Letters

The figure of two knights on horseback are not the only significant use of symbolism in the seals of the Grand Masters. Many historical sources will tell you that, around the outer edge of the obverse of the seal reads the phrase SIGILLUM MILITUM CHRISTI, Latin for "the seal of the Knights of Christ". This is not entirely correct. Differences can be clearly seen between the seals of the Grand Masters. De Blanchefort's seal (Plates 3, 4) reads SIGILLUM MILITUM on the obverse, and CHRISTI DE TEMPLO on the reverse, which means "the seal of the Temple of Christ".

De Vichiers' seal (Plate 5), on the other hand, reads SIGILLUM MILITUM XPISTI, "the seal of the knights of Christ". The phrase is in no way out of the ordinary, and is, in fact entirely apt for the Knights Templar. It is the lettering of the phrase which is of symbolic interest.

Although the phrase is written using the Latin alphabet, the first two letters of Christ's name are the Greek XP (Chi Rho) rather than the Latin CHR. I believe this is unlikely to be a mistake, since anyone who knew enough Latin to write SIGILLUM MILITUM XPISTI correctly, would know to write using the Roman alphabet. I submit that this is not a simple spelling error, made out of ignorance.

The Templars, as I have said, were not generally educated men. Some were literate in their own native language, but on the whole, learning was frowned upon within the Order. They had joined to fight, not study. Jaques de Molay, the last Grand Master of the Order was said to have referred to himself as "a knight, unlettered and poor" (Riley-Smith 1987, p. 210).

Despite their general ignorance, however uneducated an individual was in the Medieval period, he or she was able to recognise the Greek letters Chi Rho, and know instantly that the name of Christ was meant. The symbol's origin lies in the early roots of Christianity, but came into popular use after the Emperor Constantine had a vision of it and converted to Christianity in the early fourth century (Plate 11). Eusebius, a historian contemporary with the emperor, described this symbol--called the labarum because of its subsequent use as a military standard--in detail in his Vita Constantini (Knight 1999, Labarum).

From the time of Constantine, it became one of the most significant symbols of Christianity, surpassed only by the cross itself. Its early associations with the military make it the more apt of the two symbols for the Templars. In fact the Chi Rho can also be seen on the shields of the knights on de Vichiers' seal (Plate 5), though this symbol did not actually appear on the arms of the Order.

I assert that the Templar seal was made by an educated person who knew the meaning behind this symbol, but was made in such a way that even the uneducated would understand its significance. The Chi Rho was used in Templar churches before the creation of the Grand Master's seal, but this is not significant, because it was used in many medieval churches.

De Templo Christi

On the reverse of de Blanchefort's seal is an image of a stylised building (Plate 4), and, as I said above, the phrase CHRISTI DE TEMPLO, which some translate as "the Temple of Christ", but which I think is more likely to be a continuation of the phrase begun on the other side; "the seal of the knights of Christ of the Temple". There is some question, however, as to what building is actually depicted on the seal.

Helen Nicholson (2001, p. 31, 116) maintains that it is the Church of the Holy Sepulchre (Plate 8), which was, according to at least one origin legend, the first home of the Knights Templar. Dafoe and Butler (2002, Seal) on the other hand, insists that it is the Dome of the Rock (Plate 7). The Holy Sepulchre was usually referred to as such, while the Dome of the Rock was referred to as the Lord's Temple. The legend on the seal seems to be indicating that the building depicted is the temple which is meant.

While Helen Nicholson is the more authoritative source, I believe the building may well be the Dome of the Rock. If we look at the reverse of Grand Master William de Chartres' seal from 1214 (Plate 6) for enlightenment, we find little. The image of the building is very different here, but even more stylised, though Peter Partner (1982, p. 3-4) insists that it is the Dome of the Rock, based on the shape of the arches. The evidence is inconclusive, since the crowning feature of both buildings is a large dome, and the images are, as I said, very stylised.

It is somewhat ironic that the Templars may have chosen one of Islam's most holy sites to represent themselves, but there is a good reason for this. When the Crusaders came to Jerusalem, most of them had little knowledge of history and even less of Muslim architecture. They knew a few stories from the Bible, but not many details, because, in those days, the Bible was only accessible to those who could read Latin.

They did not realise that Solomon's Temple, mentioned in the Bible, did not exist any longer, and that the Lord's Temple had never even been built. They mistook the Dome of the Rock and the Aqsa Mosque, which was the Templars' headquarters, which were built centuries too late, for these Biblical buildings (Nicholson 2001, p. 19).

Despite their ignorance, they understood well the use of seals. Unlike a signature, a seal can have many layers of meaning. Bertrand de Blanchefort certainly knew this, and made his seal accordingly, with many unique details, which served to mark the Knights Templar as a brotherhood apart. Even if the exact meaning of some of the aspects of his seal did not survive de Blanchefort, still its emblem became ingrained in the minds of the age. To contemporaries, it represented the Knights Templar, which was its purpose.

Other Seals Used by the Order

"Thus in a wondrous and unique manner they appear gentler than lambs, yet fiercer than lions. I do not know if it would be more appropriate to refer to them as monks or as soldiers, unless perhaps it would be better to recognize them as being both." -- St Bernard, In Praise of the New Knighthood, early 12th century (Blanchard 1995, Military Orders)

The Order of the Temple did not have only one seal. This would have been very inconvenient, due to the large number of Templar houses spread all across Europe and the Near East. The masters and commanders of each of the regional Temples had their own seals. The men who made these seals used them to convey their connection with the Templar Order as a whole, but also to distinguish themselves and their houses from the rest.

Not only did this prevent mixups, but it allowed each house or region to distinguish itself by using symbols of the virtues they considered most important. The symbols on the seals of the masters and commanders conveyed these virtues and ideas. Some, such as commanders of the Temple in France (Plate 9), simply wished to show that they were of the Templar Order, and so they copied the motif used by the Grand Master, described above. The commander of the Temple at Richerenches also used an equestrian emblem (Plate 10), though with a single rider, probably St George, whose connection with the Order is discussed below.

Other commanders used different symbols, though it was often the case that the favoured symbol in a given region remained the same throughout the Order's history there, and did not change from one commander to the next, almost as though it became the house mascot. However, the Rule of the Order stated that when a commander died, "the seal of the commander who is dead should be put inside [a sealed bag], for the bags should be sent to the Master," (Upton-Ward 1992, p. 149). In some cases, this was ignored, and the commander passed on his seal to his successor with due ceremony, but in other cases, the rule was followed, and the new commander would have to create his own seal, though often using the emblem of the old. This showed continuity of power.

Animals

Symbols of fierce, predatory animals are fairly straightforward. Eagles, lions and gryphons (Plate 12, 13, 14) are--and were--all animals known for their ferocity, and were associated also with bravery. They were sometimes portrayed as proud animals, but never fearful or lazy. Lions especially were associated with honour (Franklyn 1963, p. 87). They caught the eye and the imagination. The Templars who used these symbols wished to have the characteristics and supposed virtues of these animals associated with them.

However, symbols often have many layers, or even meanings which are the opposite of the ones for which they were chosen. For example, although the commander of Supplingenburg used the lion as his seal (Plate 12), with its associations with bravery and honour, some Templars portrayed the lion in a very different light. In the Templar church of San Bevignate in Perugia, there is a fresco which depicts a group of Templars defying Satan who has taken the form of a black lion (Plate 15). Otto von Brunswick certainly did not choose his seal because of these connotations.

But, besides the instance of Perugia, lions were usually portrayed in a positive light during this period, and in connection with the Templars. St Bernard said of the Order, in his famous de laude novae militae, "they appear gentler than lambs, yet fiercer than lions," (Blanchard 1995, Military Orders) and Jacques de Vitry, a thirteenth century historian, echoed this sentiment, saying that the Templars were "in turn lions of war and lambs at the hearth," (Knight 1999, The Knights Templar).

Religious Symbols

Not all of the Templars considered ferocity in battle to be chief among the virtues. Among these were the English Templars, who used as their seal the image of another animal--the Agnus Dei or Lamb of God (Plate 16, 17, 18, 19). The emblem consists of a lamb with one of its forelegs hooked around the staff of a banner. This was a popular symbol throughout the Templar brotherhood, but the English brothers seem to have been especially attached to it. From at least 1160 and 1304--nearly the entire time the Templars existed in England--the commander of the English Temple continued to use the Agnus Dei as his seal.

The lamb, both historically and Biblically, is a symbol of innocence and purity--as an animal which is both young and white--as well as a symbol of sacrifice. "Agnus Dei" is a Biblical term, referring to the Messiah, with which all Christians of the Medieval period were familiar. As a symbol, the Agnus Dei represents the purity of Christ as well as His sacrifice to save humanity from death. The term "Lamb of God" was first used in the Old Testament book of Isaiah (53:7), when the prophet describes the awaited Messiah (Anonymous 1997, Isaiah). The Templars' use of the symbol represented their desire to emulate Christ, up to and including a desire for martyrdom at the hands of God's enemies, the Muslims.

The Agnus Dei, sometimes called the Paschal or Holy Lamb, is also found in the heraldry of the period. Franklyn (1963, p. 101) describes it as "passant; its dexter fore limb as well as being raised is flexed upon a staff which rises over the animal's shoulder...." From this description, we can see that this symbol was not just a Templar icon, but something commonly known during the Medieval period. Franklyn goes on to tell us that the Paschal Lamb carries, at the head of his staff, a flag bearing the cross of St George, which is also frequently associated with the Templars, as described below.

The Agnus Dei, however, was not the only religious symbol used in Templar seals. The more blatant image of Christ's head was used by some commanders (Plate 20, 21, 22). The primary purpose of a seal was to protect the letter or document it sealed, and to ensure its veracity. What better symbol to use that the head of Christ? Surely there could be no better guardian of the truth, for who would open a letter not meant for him while looking into the face of Christ? And who would doubt the truth of a document which bore such a mark?

Some of the masters of the Temple in Germany chose this symbol for their own seal, but by they end of the thirteenth century, it had been replaced by the image of an eagle (Plate 13). Such a change would seem to imply a shift in focus from a gentle, Christ-like image to a symbol which suggests fierce, bold action. Perhaps the new master thought the German Templars needed a new, more dynamic image.

I had thought perhaps the change was due to the rumours that the Templars worshipped a bearded head, and that the master of the German temple was just being careful. However, the images of Christ used on the seals were very stylised, as was common during the Medieval period, and thus immediately recognisable to contemporaries. Also, such rumours did not actually begin until after the first accusations of 1307. The commanders chose their seals to represent who they--and their men--were. They chose images which expressed ideas about what a Templar should be. Whether the image was fierce or gentle, unique or ubiquitous, it said something about the Order as a whole and in its separate parts. Each chapter wished to express the unique virtues it offered the Order, while still showing its connection to the whole.

The Appearance of the Brothers

"[W]e grant to all knight brothers... white cloaks; and no-one who does not belong to the aforementioned Knights of Christ is allowed to have a white cloak, so that those who have abandoned the life of darkness will recognise each other as being reconciled to their creator by the sign of the white habits: which signifies purity and complete chastity." -- The Ancient Rule of the Order (Upton-Ward 1992, p. 24)

The Habit of the Order

Although initially the Order of the Temple wore whatever clothing people donated to them, in 1129, when the Rule was approved, they were given their first habit. This was a simple, white mantle or cloak which they wore over a dark tunic (Nicholson 2001, p. 23). White, to symbolise purity and chastity, as well as a sign that they had abandoned the "life of darkness" (Upton-Ward 1992, p. 24). When a man became a brother of the Temple, he entered another world, and lived in a different way. The wearing of the habit proclaimed this transition (Plate 23, 24).

Cistercians also wore a white habit, and historians agree that St Bernard, one of the founding members of the Cistercian Order, was instrumental in this choice, as well as in the writing of the Ancient Rule of the Order, which is essentially the same as that of the Cistercians, who lived by the reformed Benedictine Rule. Bernard was very outspoken in his support of the Templar Order from the outset, and was friendly with--and possibly related to--one or two of the original members of the Order.

According to Seward (1972, p. 22), St Bernard "thought of Hugues [de Payen]'s new brethren as military Cistercians. Significantly, brother-knights wore a white hooded habit in the cloister, like Cistercian choir monks, while lesser brethren wore brown, as did Cistercian lay brothers." As one of the founding members of the Cistercian Order, Bernard was probably no less than passionate about their way of life and beliefs, and wished to spread these teachings to as many people--and Orders--as possible, hence his involvement in the creation of the Templars.

That appearance was important to the Templars can be seen in their Rule. The Rule forbade the adding of fur or any other luxury decoration to the habit, because it would encourage sinful pride (Upton-Ward 1992, p. 24), but perhaps also because they wished to present a united and uniform front. When there is nothing to distinguish between one brother and another, any good deed a brother does is simply done by a Templar, to the glory of the Order, rather than to the glory of an individual. The Rule seems to bear this thinking out, since it goes on to say that members of the Order should all have the same clothing, though each brother's clothing should fit him properly, because ill-fitting robes would make the Order appear foolish. They wished to appear not only unified, but respectable.

However, not every member of the Order wore the white habit. The sergeants and squires wore black, or dark brown. The reason for this, says the Rule, is that there was a time when men joined the Templars under false pretenses, and brought shame upon the Order. The bragging of these false brothers' squires caused many scandals. Therefore, all subsequent squires and sergeants had to wear dark clothes made of the cheapest fabric, to teach them humility, as well as to show that they were not full Knights of the Temple (Upton-Ward 1992, p. 35-6). By outfitting the majority of its members in cheap fabric, the Order also managed to save itself a great deal of money.

Although Templar knights--but not their squires of sergeants--were allowed the white habit, it was not, at that time, considered to be a symbol of rank. However, by the time the Teutonic knights came into being in the 1190's, the white habit was considered to be a symbol of knighthood (Forey 1992, p. 177). This is a case of the Knights Templar unintentionally creating a symbol which was widely recognised and used. Many crusading knights subsequently wore white tabards over their armor in battle.

Most of the Templars were not knights. The majority of the brothers wore the dark robes. And yet, in nearly every pictorial representation of a Templar from that period, we are presented with a brother in a white habit. Knight brothers were more visible in a society which wore primarily dark colours. They stood out in a crowd, from a great distance, and were instantly recognisable for the clothes they wore. They were also of a higher class, and so were presented as the ideal of what a Templar should be--what all men should aspire to, even if only some could realistically achieve such a goal. Not a man joined the Order as a sergeant who would not rather have been a knight. Such is human nature. The white habit said "Templar" in a way the dark one never could.

It is somewhat ironic that not all the Knights Templar were knights. The sergeants were not knights in training, but lowborn individuals. Upton-Ward (1992, p. 94) tells us that this policy reflects the fact that the Templars did not train men to be knights, but accepted those who already had the necessary training. Only members of the knightly class were entitled to the white habit. The punishment for impersonating a knight when joining the Order was usually expulsion, though if an individual was indeed sorry for his actions, he might only be demoted to sergeant, and given the dark robes (Upton-Ward 1992, p. 116).

There was a concern that the Templar mantle might be misused by people who wished the Order ill. The Rule specified that anyone who left the Order had two days to return his robes. One reason for this was that it was mainly through expulsion from the Order that brothers left, and one had to do something fairly bad to be expelled. The kind of brothers who were likely to be expelled were also likely to do other bad things, like visit brothels or get drunk or start fights.

If someone wearing a Templar uniform was seen doing something disgraceful, it reflected badly upon the Order, whether the person in the habit was actually a Templar or not. There was also a concern that expelled brothers might try to sell their robes to criminals or confidence artists, who would use them for their own nefarious ends, and give the Order a bad name in the process (Regle in Nicholson 1995, p. 102).

The actions of a person wearing Templar garments, regardless of whether or not that person was, in fact, a Templar, reflected on the Order as a whole. It was only natural that the Templars were very conscious of their image, and took care to preserve it. Regle's statement suggests that there were people who would dress as Templars and intentionally do harmful or immoral things specifically to the detriment of the Order's image. The Templars had to be very careful about who wore their robes.

St George's Cross

The red cross, historically so closely associated in the modern mind with crusading knights, was not added to the official uniform of the Knights Templar until the late 1140's, twenty years after the inception of the Order. Pope Eugenius III allowed them to add this evocative symbol to display that they were knights of Christ. A red cross on a white field is both heraldically and historically a symbol of martyrdom (Nicholson 2001, p. 23), and was the traditional sign of St George (Plate 25)--an early Christian martyr and warrior--representing blood and purity.

The Templars identified with St George in their vocation (Nicholson 2001, p. 149-50), though the parallels between them were perhaps more readily understood then than in the present day. St George was not only a very holy man, but he had also been a warrior. Most depictions of him idealise him as a medieval knight, charging into battle on horseback. There is some questions as to whether St George ever really existed, but if he did, then he would have lived in the third century, long before a knightly class--as the Templars and their contemporaries would have understood it--existed at all.

However, the Templars would have been familiar with many of the legends of St George--for, by the Medieval period, there were multiple and sometimes conflicting versions of the martyr's story (Knight 2002, St George)--and understood it in contemporary terms. As a warrior and a saint, George was evidence that fighting did not preclude holiness, so long as one's cause was just, and one lived one's life otherwise in a way that was pleasing to God.

St George was also a symbol of martyrdom, which held great importance for the Templars, and for all their Christian contemporaries. A martyr is a person so steadfast in his faith, that he is unwilling to deny it, even under pain of death. Martyrs were held in great admiration by Christians, and were often made saints. The Church held that those who had suffered for their faith and paid with their lives did not suffer in Purgatory after their deaths, but went directly to heaven, a reward for which every Christian longed.

However, since Christianity had become the official religion throughout Europe, there was no longer much opportunity for martyrdom. The Templars, however, faced martyrdom regularly. They were glad to have that chance, and were not afraid to die. As St Bernard said, "Gladly and faithfully he stands for Christ, but he would prefer to be dissolved and to be with Christ, by far the better thing," (Blanchard 1995, Military Orders).

The cross, gules on a field, argent--the cross of St George--did not actually become associated with the saint until sometime in the early middle ages, and its origins are mainly heraldic: white for purity and red for blood. By the twelfth century, it had become a popular emblem among the crusaders, and came to signify Christianity's struggle against Islam.

The red cross which was added to the Templar habit was a sign of willingness for martyrdom in more ways than one. It was also meant as a spiritual shield, which each Templar wore over his heart. The bright red cross on the white habit made an ideal target for Muslim archers; the Templars could not hide from their enemies, but must ride bravely into battle to face them, and to face death without fear (Dafoe & Butler 2002, Garments). In donning his habit on the eve of battle, each brother was knowingly inviting martyrdom, and proudly displaying that he was not afraid.

The sergeants, too, were given a red cross to wear on the front and back of their dark mantles, though it cannot have provided such a high-contrast, easy target as those that their knight masters wore. The difference in dress between the upper and lower classes of Templars sometimes caused the sergeants to be mistaken for Hospitallers, who wore black robes with a white cross.

Some Templar robes, however, were kept without their red cross. As proscribed in the statutes of the Order, a brother who was doing penance for some transgression would be made to wear a habit without the customary cross (Upton-Ward 1992, p. 128, 167). This was perhaps to indicate that, for a length of time, that brother was not worthy of the honour of martyrdom.

Hair and Associations with the Muslims

The way in which the Templars wore their hair was also proscribed by their Rule, which states that the brothers should be "so well tonsured that they may be examined from the front and from behind; and we command you to firmly adhere to this same conduct with respect to beards and mustaches, so that no excess may be noted on their bodies," (Upton-Ward 1992, p. 25). Being well-shorn promoted a respectable, tidy appearance, in the same way that having properly-fitting robes did.

Short hair also served a practical purpose. When a knight rode into the heat of battle, the last thing he would want was his vision to be obscured--Medieval helmets cut away enough of their field of vision without having to worry that their hair was going to come flopping down into their eyes.

Long hair was very common among the knightly class of this period. Among the Templars, it would have been considered a symptom of vanity, and sinful, as well as impractical. What use was long hair to a man who did not bathe, and was not hoping to impress ladies with his looks?

Although they kept their hair short, and were, according to the Rule, supposed to keep their beards neatly trimmed, the Templars were actively encouraged to grow their beards long (Plate 23, 24, 28). The reason for this was that their Muslim enemies equated facial hair with masculinity (Dafoe & Butler 2002, Garments). They would never fear a clean-shaven enemy in battle, thinking them feminine or immature, and so the Templars used the psychological effect of facial hair to their advantage. In doing so, they often gained the respect, rather than the scorn of their enemies.

When the Latin Christians first arrived in the Holy Land on the First Crusade, needless to say, the Muslim inhabitants were surprised. They were not entirely certain why these barbaric foreigners had suddenly descended upon them. This confusion about the origin of their enemies led to the Muslims referring to them all as "Franks", though they came from all over Europe.

After a while, however, they began to draw a distinction between new Franks and orientalised Franks, who had lived in the East for some time. The Muslims considered these Franks to be more civilised, and perhaps they were. Usama, an Islamic chronicler contemporary with the Templars, said "Everyone who is a fresh emigrant from the Frankish lands is ruder in character than those who have become acclimatised and have held long association with the Moslems," (Hillenbrand 1999, p. 333). Usama even goes on to describe a group of Templars as his friends.

These "civilised" Franks, with their long beards and understanding of Eastern ways were considered much more worthy opponents in Muslim eyes than their Western brothers. The Templars must have seemed very different in appearance from secular knights; the one with short hair and a full beard, the other clean-shaven with flowing locks; the Templars in their white habits, all alike and indistinguishable, the secular knight with his armorial colours, so that he would stand out on the field of battle and be recognised by his men.

Templars maintained a group identity, and that identity was of purity and fearlessness. So long as they held to their vows, there was nothing to fear. They were willing martyrs, and proud to bear the mark which proclaimed this to the world. Even in a society which regarded with suspicion anything out of the ordinary, they were not afraid to wear beards, though their countrymen went cleanshaven. While this almost certainly fueled the rumours that the Templars were somehow in league with the Muslims, they did what they had to do to gain the respect--and possibly the fear--of their enemy, even if it was detrimental to their image in the West.

The Arms of the Order

“They wear white mantles with a red cross, and when they go to war a standard of two colors called balzaus is borne before them.” -- Anonymous contemporary source (Dafoe & Butler 2001, Beausant)

The Importance of Arms

The purpose of armorial colours and insignia in the Medieval period was for identification o [corrupted]

If a knight performed a great deed, everyone would know, without question, who had performed it, and it would enhance his prestige.    No other knight could steal the glory by claiming mistaken identity.  Even people who did not know him by name might recognise him by his heraldry for the deeds they had witnessed him performing.  As Franklyn (1963, p. 52) tells us, “the knight, identified by his arms, was constrained to act in a manner that could bring nothing but fair renown on his family, and his travels and his conquests added to the brilliance and complexity of his arms.”

Even in the worst-case scenario, a knight’s heraldry was useful.  If a knight failed to return from the field of battle, his men could find his body with relative easy, based on the colours [corrupted]

While other knights stood out as individuals, the Templars had a group identity, and at the same time, anonymity.  A Templar on the field of battle had nothing to distinguish himself from his brothers.  Any deed he did, no matter how great, would not be to his own credit, since as an individual, a Templar was relatively anonymous.  His actions contributed to the reputation of his Order.

“Brothers should not be encouraged to strive for distinction, as this would undermine the discipline of the Order,” (Nicholson 1995, p. 119).  A brother who gained celebrity would disrupt the communal life of the Order.  It is perhaps for this reason that no Templar brother ever attained sainthood--a popular martyr's cult would have trouble forming around an anonymous knight, despite the frequency of martˇyrdom within the Order.

St Bernard praises the Order for their lack of flamboyance, saying “they arm themselves... with steel rather than decorate themselves with gold, since their business is to strike fear in the enemy rather than to incite his cupidity,” (Blanchard 1995, Military Orders).  To the Templars, it was about winning, not showing off and gaining recognition.  This behaviour, somewhat ironically, gained the Order as a whole far greater recognition than secular knights who intentionally sought glory found.

The Order’s banner or standard provided a rallying point for their company in battle.  An army that did not stick together in a fight was doomed, so it was important to have an eye-catching standard, to make finding one’s position easy, even in the most chaotic circumstances.

The importance of the banner inspired a kind of team spirit.  The Templars, as any other group of their day, were fiercely proud of their banner, and would protect it at all cost.  The feeling it inspired was important, [corrupted] (Butler 2002, Beauseant).

Because of the importance of the standard, strict rules were made regarding its treatment.  In peace, the Seneschal protected the banner, but in battle, the Marshall was charged with holding it aloft, and ten Templars were chosen to guard him, and he always carried a spare, in case anything should befall the original.  If the Marshal was killed, it was the commander’s duty to take the standard.  As long as the banner flew, they must fight, and as long as the fight continued, the banner must fly (Dafoe & Butler 2002, Beauseant).

“At [corrupted]

St George’s Cross in the Arms of the Order

Many people erroneously associate St George’s cross with the arms of the Order. When they think of the Templars, they image a shield bearing a red cross on a white field, matching the Order’s habit.  This was not the case--or not entirely.  Franklyn (1963, pp. 69, 309) is one of the only authors I found who strongly associated St George’s cross with Templar arms.

He describes their shield as a pale and fess cross, which is defined as a vertical and a horizontal bar, extending to the edge of the shield.  In some situations, the limbs of the cross might be cut short, or couped.  He also tells us that this emblem is an early example of counterchanging, or reversing the colours of a shield.  In this case, that of the Hospitallers, whose shield and banner bore a white cross on a red field.

St George’s cross was, however, not the usual shield and standard of the Order.  It was more likely to be associated with crusading knights or in images of the host of heaven.  Their official banner was called the Beauseant.

The Templar standard (Plates 1, 2, 27, 28), called the Beauseant, was a simpler design--argent with a chief sable, meaning the bottom part was white and the top black--often called a piebald.  According to heraldic tradition, white was the colour of peace and serenity, while black represented constancy and red military fortitude.  However, scholars believe that the Templar use of the black and white arms represented the contrast between the sinfulness of the world they had left behind and the purity their new life offered them--a transformation from dark to light.  The reason for the arrangement of the two colours on the shield and standard is unclear, though some suggest it may have been Hugues de Payens’ own family crest (Anonymous 2002, Grand M [corrupted]

The Rule of the Order makes many references to the piebald banner or confanon bauçon, but the origin of the name or Beauseant is unclear.  It is variously spelled bauçon, bauçaut, balzaus, baucent and Beauseant, though some variation in Medieval spelling is far from unusual.  Brault (1997, p. 160) tells us that is comes from the Old French baucent or Vernacular Latin baltthe banner.  Thus, the banner became known as the “Beau Seant”, which was also the Templar’s war cry.  

Dafoe and Butler (2002, Beauseant) suggest an altogether different derivation.  They take it from the French word “beau”, which in modern French means “beautiful”, but which, they say, in Medieval French meant something closer to “glorious” or “magnificent”.  This would render their war cry as “be glorious” or “to glory”.

Ernoul, a late twelfth century French chronicler, also mentions the “bauçaut”, but his description is very different (see below).  His states that the derivation is “piebald”.  Perhaps the Templars were just calling the banner what it was.  Or perhaps it was called after a favourite horse of the Order, since piebald is certainly a [corrupted] tee must depend upon his mount not to panic in the face of chaos.

Variations

Upton-Ward (1992, p. 44) describes it as “a two-pointed pennant divided horizontally with white above and black below.”  What she describes is similar to the banner found in the frescoes of the Templar church in Perugia (Plate 28) where we see a banner, shield, and the draping of a horse, all with the white-over-black arms, and featuring a black cross in the white part.

However, Matthew Paris depicts the Beauseant in several places as a rectangular, vertical banner with the black crowning the white (Plates 1, 2, 26, 27).  Since no actual Templar standard survives, it is imanner was the one carried by the regular troops.

However, Ernoul also seem to be describing the Perugian banner in his chronicle (Nicholson 2001, p. 29).  He tells us that the first Templars fell under the jurisdiction of the prior of the Holy Sepulchre.  They had come to the Holy Land as crusaders, and wanted to form their own knightly Order.  When they moved to their own headquarters in the Aqsa Mosque, the Prior allowed them to carry with them a badge with a red cross--the symbol of the holy sepulchre was a cross with two red arms--not a black one as in the Perugian church fresco.  He refers to this banner as the bauçaut or piebald standard.

While his story seems plausible, and we may assume that [corrupted] eir deaths, no one could be sure how it had really happened.

Brault (1997, p. 144, 160) also tells us that the Beauseant was, according to some sources, “surcharged with a red cross,” which would mean that the cross was over the black and the white of the standard.  Another of his sources calls it “argent, on a chief sable a cross patonce gules,” which describes Matthew Paris’s version of the Beauseant, but with a red cross on the black part.  Yet anther of Brault’s sources lists Paris’s banner, but with the red cross in the white part.

It seems that ev [corrupted]

Though these stark, uncomplicated heraldic devices would have stood out on the field of battle, and become recognisable as a regular feature of any battle against the Franks, the Muslim chroniclers, unfortunately, make no mention of them.  Modern historians attribute this to their general disinterest in “Frankish” ways.  Even if they had had much to say on the subject of the Templars, it would not have been detailed, says Hillenbrand (1999, p. 333), “even their descriptions of Muslims are stereotyped.”  It is difficult to glean anything at all about the Templars from the Muslim sources, other than that they were respected by some and hated by others.

The Templars impressed more than just their e [corrupted] --the knowledge that death, too, brought reward.

Conclusion

Founded in 1118, and endorsed by the Church in 1129, the Knights Templar quickly grew in wealth and respect throughout Europe.  They were a refuge for knights who wished to serve their God in a capacity for which they had a talent.  They came to an end very suddenly in 1307 when the King of France accused them of heretical practices.  The Order had to be dissolved.

Very little is left to us of the Templars.  After their sudden dissolution, they continued to exi [corrupted]

Seals were one historical way of expressing identity, like the modern signature.  they could never be perfectly forged, and identified the author of a document.  The owner of a seal chose an emblem he [corrupted]

The seal of the Grand Master of the Temple is one of the biggest mysteries, and is likely to remain so.  Theories on the meaning of the horse with two riders run from homosexuality to spirituality.  The best symbols have many layers of meaning, and it is likely that de Blanchefort meant his to have more than one.  While some of the theories may be what he intended, others are obviously absurd.  The most likely meaning is that it represented the duality and the unity of the Order, being made up of both knights and clergy, at once both and neither.

Templars also used the Chi Rho, an early Christian monogram for the name of Christ.  When Christianity became the official religion, the symbol was adopted by the Emperor Constantine for the shields and banners of his army.

The use of the temple on the reverse of de Blanchefort’s seal was perhaps less apt.  It is not clear what building is begin depicted.  It may be the Dome of the Rock--known to contemporary Christians as the Lord’s Temple--or it may have been the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the first home of the Order, according to some legends.  The Holy Sepulchre would make more sense, due its possible Templar associations, but it was never known as a “temple”, whereas the mosque was.  The building it too stylised to be certain.

Some of the masters and commanders of the smaller temples simply copied the motif of the Grand Master’s seal to show their ties to the Order.  Most, however, developed their own seals.  This was to express their individuality, as they used the opportunity to produceSome seals did not change their emblem through the command of many masters.

Some commanders used animals to express the virtues and characteristics they found important.  These were most often fierce creatures which had connotations of honour and bravery in the face of danger.  Common among these were the lion, the eagle and the griffon.

Other commanders used religious icons.  Some used the face of Christ, while others used the more subtle Agnus Dei--also an animal emblem--which represented Christ and his role as sacrificial lamb.  The Templars wished to be seen in this role--emulators of Christ, with a willingness to suffer and die for their cause.  He is the Church’s sacrificial lamb, and is proud to be so.  This symbol was especially popular with the masters in England.

The Templar’s white habit is, fortunately, one of the few symbols that is explained by contemporary texts.  Its white represents purity, and its roots are in the habit of the Cistercian Order, with which the Templars had close ties.  The habit caused the Templars to stand out as people who had taken vows, and were removed from everyday society.

The red cross--the symbol of St George--was added to the habit later.  The red of blood against the purity of the white habit was a mark of martyrdom.  On the one hand, St George was everything the Templars aspired to: warrior, martyr and saint.  Bearing his mark meant that they had volunteered themselves as martyrs.  It also caused them to stand out of the battle field; perfect and willing targets for the Muslim archers.

Their hair shows that they understood a little about the enemy they were fighting.  The hair on their heads was clipped short, partly so that it would not become a source of sinful pride, but mostly so that it would not get into their eyes when they fought.  They grew their beards long, though, because their enemies associated facial hair with masculinity.  They would not have been frightened of an army of effeminate-looking boys.  The beards gave the Templars a psychological advantage, which earned them respect from their enemies.  It also made them more visible in the clean-shaven west.

Also important the the image of the Templars were the arms they carried in battle.  The coat of arms told contemporaries who a man was, even when his face was obscured by a helmet.  They brought recognition to individuals.  a Templar’s arms identified him as a member of a group, not as an individual.  This was to discourage personal pride, and the seeking o [corrupted]

The Templars did not generally sport St George’s cross on their shields and banners.  They instead use the Beauseant, and simple black and white emblem, which is at time said to incorporate a red or black cross.  While there is no agreed-upon version of the Beauseant, each one would have been easily recognisable, even at a distance, to the men who knew it, and that, after all, was the point.

Through their seal in official practice, and their dress in daily life and on the field of battle, the Knights Templar distinguished themselves in 12th and 13th century Europe.  Though some of the meanings of these symbols are now lost to us, so that we can only guess at them, others live on and inspire thoughts in our minds of who the Templars were.  They call to mind a time, a place and a group unique in history, but their ls have become obfuscated, and it takes resolve to find them.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Anonymous, 1997.  The Bible: Revised Standard Version.  http://www.hti.umich.edu/r/rsv/.

Anonymous, 2002.  Ordo Supremus Militaris Templi Hierosolymitani (OSMTH):  Official International Knights Templar Website.   http://www.ordotempli.org/.

Blanchard, L. V. and Schriber, C. (eds.), 1995.  The Online Reference Book for Medieval Studies (ORB).  http://orb.rhodes.edu/.

Brault, G. J., 1997. Early Blazons:  Heraldic Terminology in the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries With Special Reference to Arthurian Heraldry. 2nd ed. Woodbridge (Suffolk): The Boydell Press.

Dafoe, S. and Butler, A., 2002.  A History & Mythos of the Knights Templar.  http://www.tem

Forey, A. J., 1992. The Military Orders From the Twelfth to the Early Fourteenth Centuries.  Toronto: University of Toronto Press.

Franklyn, J., 1963. Shield & Crest. 2nd ed. London: MacGibbon & Kee, London.

Hillenbrand, C., 1999. The Crusades, Islamic Perspective.  Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press.

Hollister, C. W., 1982. Medieval Europe:  A Short History. 5th ed. New York: Alfred A. Knopf.

Knight, K. (ed.), 1999.  The Catholic  [corrupted]

Nicholson, H., 1995. Templars, Hospitallers and Teutonic Knights, Images of the Military Orders, 1128-1291. London:  Leicester University Press.

Nicholson, H., 2001. The Knights Templar, A New History.  Gloucester:  Sutton Publishing Limited.

Partner, P., 1982. The Murdered Magicians.  Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Riley-Smith, J., 1987. The Crusades:  A Short History.  New Haven: Yale University Press.

Ritook, P., 1994.  The Architechture of the Knights Templar in England.  In: M. Barber, ed. The Military Orders: Fighting for the Faith and Caring for the Sick.  Hampshire:  Variorum  [corrupted]

Selwood, D., 1999. Knights of the Cloister:  Templars and Hospitallers in Central-Southern Occitania 1100-1300.  Woodbridge (Suffolk): The Boydell Press.

Seward, D., 1972. The Monks of War:  The Military Religious Orders.  London:  Eyre Methuen Ltd.

Upton-Ward, J. M. (translator), 1992. The Rule of the Templars:  The French Text of the Rule of the Order of the Knights Templar. Woodbridge (Suffolk):  The Boydell Press.

Vaughan, R., 1958. Matthew Paris.  Cambridge:  Cambridge University Press.

Vaughan, R. (translator), 1984. Chronicles of Matthew Paris:  Monastic Life in the Thirteenth Century. Gloucester:  Alan Sutton Publishing Limited.

“If some among them are innocent, it is expedient that they should be assayed like gold in the furnace and purged by proper judicial examination.”  Royal letter opening the Inquiry into the Templars 1307 (Anonymous 2002, Ancient Templar Quotes).

#academia #dissertation #academic archaeology #knights templar #mediaeval history #the crusades #european history

[searchforthescars]

You Too

This is one massive trope-slash-cliche and I wish I was sorry

Enjoy the Memori coffee shop AU we really didn’t need.

There is implied/reference self-harm in section V, but it’s minor. I’m not taking any chances though <3

i.

You really only choose the coffee shop because it's warm and quiet and those are two things your apartment is not at the moment, not since the heater broke and the December snow started piling on the windows and the music and noise from the second and first floors started drifting up to your third-floor walk-up.

It’s a small place, wood paneling on the walls in an artsy, slightly-disorganized contrast to the smooth floors and the mismatched couches, armchairs and tables. Their coffee is strong; you take it black and curl into the massive armchair near the window, sipping out of a chipped mug and reading over your assignments for winter term.

You’re there for two or three hours when someone flops into the chair across from you, letting out a sigh meant only for his ears. When you look up - and you didn’t mean to look up so sharply, but he doesn’t know that - he gives you a polite smile, then looks down at the cup of coffee in his hands.

He takes it black, too, you notice with interest. [Read on Ao3]

Once he opens his laptop, you study him. He’s maybe a little younger than you, with high cheekbones and blue eyes. He’s pretty, you think involuntarily, then ball your right hand into a tight fist until the pain from your nails on your skin jerks you back to the moment.

When he stretches and stands some time later, you look up and see the sky is pitch-black, the street lights right outside the shop’s window beginning to flicker on. He shoulders his backpack while staring out the window, then turns his body toward you slightly, just enough for you to know he’s talking to you.

“It’s snowing again.”

You look up at him. He has a nice, sharp jawline. “Yeah.”

He looks at you. His eyes aren’t exactly soft, but you don’t feel the need to run from him either. “You taking the bus?”

“No, I walked here.”

He pulls the hood of his jacket up. “Get home safe,” he says awkwardly, like an afterthought.

You don’t know what else to say but, “You too.” It sounds too polite leaving your mouth.

He walks away. You see him board the bus outside. When it pulls away, you swear his eyes meet yours from the window.

You look at the take-out coffee cup he left on the windowsill. When you pick it up, it’s empty. John is written on it in a barista's messy scrawl.

Something in you smiles.

ii.

You see John again the next day. It’s even colder, so you’re wearing your brother’s sweater over two thermal shirts, only one of which is long enough to hide your bad hand. You usually wrap a strip of cloth to hide it, but it froze overnight after getting wet from the leak in the roof.

Damn, your apartment is a mess.

Anyway, he’s there when you arrive and normally you would find somewhere else to sit, but that chair is right near a vent that blows warm air, which sounds pretty damn good right about now, so you sit.

He gives you another nod-smile and you grin back - not a real grin, but a flash of teeth that masquerades as one - and when you sit down, he takes a sip of his coffee and that’s that.

You're so deep into the eight-page paper you're working on - who the fuck told you it was a good idea to take classes during winter break and why did you listen? - that you don't notice him standing over you until he clears his throat and you flinch and blink upwards.

“You were shivering,” he says, a bit gruffly, and hands you a mug that may as well be a bowl with a handle.

“Was I?” you murmur so as not to disturb this moment, this strange moment when someone is standing over you offering you something warm and nice, looking at you with a furrow between his brow as if he’s confused or maybe worried.

It’s entirely unsettling.

He gives you a jerky nod and sits down across from you. The furrow between his eyes gets deeper when you start digging for your wallet.

“For the coffee,” you explain, holding out some crumpled bills.

He shakes his head. You outstretch your right hand, your good hand a little farther, and he shakes his head again.

I don’t want to owe anyone, you want to say, but it comes out as a “thank you” whispered into your backpack.

When you lift your head, a smile is fading from his lips.

iii.

“Shit,” he’s muttering when you sit down in your chair. “Fuck.”

You take in his angry expression and the way he’s slamming the keys of his laptop, and lean forward so he looks at you. “Computer trouble?”

He rakes a hand through his hair. “It just froze and I can’t fucking get it back and I have a project due in an hour and-“

“Gimme,” you say, reaching for the device. He hands it over and you look at it, tapping at the keys smoothly with your right hand and clumsily with your left. The screen fades to black, then whirs to life after a moment, and you pass it back with a proud smile.

“Thanks,” he says, clearing the remnants of anger from his voice. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Then, “are you taking winter classes too?”

Are you seriously talking to him? Your blood runs cold for a small moment, then thaws when he, looking just as startled as you feel, nods.

Your left hand is on display, you realize. It's resting awkwardly atop your knee, the faded bandana ugly in the dim light from the window. His eyes flick to it, then up to your face.

“Are you hurt or something?”

He says it with a tone of concern masquerading as indifferent curiousity. You look at his eyes and find the smallest hint of emotion and it’s enough to trust him.

“It’s not a bandage.” You unwrap the bandana, slowly but surely revealing the rough patches, fused fingers and that scar you never ever talk about.

“Woah,” he breathes, but it’s an admiring woah, the kind that meant “that’s so cool” in middle school. He reaches for it, traces a finger over the tiny stub near your pinky. “That’s really badass.”

You huff out a laugh that’s more relief than anything else. “Liar.” His acceptance of the worst part of you makes your throat constrict and you reach out as a thank-you and apology all at once. “I’m Emori, by the way.”

“Murphy,” he says, but you already know to call him John. “Nice to…formally meet you, I guess.”

You smile, a real one this time. Your stomach clenches. You feel like your skin is on fire, but the nice kind, the kind when you want something so badly and you know you’re so close to obtaining it. It’s the anticipation of the con, only you don’t have to con him into liking you because he already does.

“You too.”

It’s like the first day you met, only he doesn’t give you an awkward look, but grins, all flashing teeth and clever eyes, and eventually he moves his chair a little closer to yours, saying that the vent was warm and he was freezing, but he explains just a little too long, and do you dare hope he’s interested in your company?

(You shouldn’t dare, but you do.)

(When he leaves you his phone number, hidden under your coffee mug, you smile and text him right away.)

(You never stop texting after that.)

iv.

Thank God the coffee shop is open late on Fridays.

Otan is having a party and you need to work on your midterm, so you trudge the four blocks in the snow and single-digit temperature to get there, the thought of the chair by the vent and warm black coffee and John’s nice smile and pretty eyes buoying you.

You had texted him before leaving the house and he said he was in his usual spot, so that’s where your eyes go as soon as you arrive. He’s standing near the window when you burst in, shaking snow from your hair, but you nearly freeze when you see him with another girl. His back is to you, but you can see her, all dark-haired, pale, fierce-eyed and-

And he’s angry with her, hissing between gritted teeth, and she’s got a vice grip on his arm and before you can reconsider, you’re marching over there, tapping him on the shoulder until he turns around.

“Emori.” He sounds relieved? Scared? Both of the above? You take one look at the other girl and do what you do best: act.

“Hey, babe,” you say nonchalantly, wrapping your left arm around his shoulders and looking at the other girl with what you hope is a vaguely possessive expression. “Who’s this?”

“Ontari,” she says sharply, releasing John’s arm and jamming her hand in her pocket. “You’re his girlfriend?”

“Last time I checked.” You keep your tone light, but wary. John’s body relaxes with every moment Ontari’s hands are off him, but you’re sure that if you checked, the place where her grip was strongest would be bruising his pale skin. “Is there a problem here, John?”

“She was just leaving,” John says, wrapping his arm around your waist, bunching the fabric of your still-wet jacket in his hand.

Ontari looks murderous, but takes her leave with a snide “it was nice seeing you” that implies it really wasn’t.

You wait until she walks past the window to release him, but his arm still keeps you close. “You didn’t have to do that,” he says softly.

“Yeah,” you say, swiveling to face him. His hand is warm, burning you through all your layers, and you feel like your heart is about to come out of your throat when you look at his face, now so close to yours. “I did.”

He releases you after a moment, stammering out an apology that you wave off, and insists on buying you a coffee.

“As a thanks for being my knight in shining armor,” he says, a smirk on his face, and you let him bring you a steaming mug and wrap his huge scarf around your shoulders like a blanket when the warmth doesn’t seep in fast enough.

“Thanks,” you say, holding the mug as close to your face as you dare.

He sits down in his usual seat, then looks at her. “So, wait. ‘Babe’?”

You laugh. “Well, I had to assert dominance somehow! I’m sorry, do you prefer sweetheart?” When he starts laughing, you continue. “Honey? Kitten?”

“Oh, fuck off,” he says, but he’s still laughing, probably more in relief than anything else. You laugh with him, and the peace that settles into your bones drives away the cold more than even the coffee could.

v.

He sits beside you one day.

You’ve been texting for weeks and flirting for longer, the incident with Ontari sparking something that feels suspiciously like a crush. Sometimes you wonder if you’re imagining things, but then he’ll say things nearly complementary about your eyes or hair, and you’ll retaliate with teasing, and sometimes you drive one another away, but you always come back together in fits and starts.

You think you want him. And it fucking terrifies you, and you know it scares him because you met his best friend Raven one day when she showed up at the shop to give him his car keys and she whispered “give him time” in your ear when he went to the bathroom.

Now, he’s sitting beside you, his arm so close to yours and you feel like you’re on edge, but also like you’re more at peace than you’ve been in a long time.

So when he taps you on the shoulder and asks if a sentence he’s writing makes sense, you lean over to look. Your head is almost level with his chest and suddenly it’s very hard to keep your mind on the paper and not on how gentle his hand is as it rests on your shoulder.

“It’s good,” you nearly whisper, your heart in your throat. “It’s a good sentence, I mean.”

You know this feeling - not in practice, but in theory - and you like it, you like it way more than you should, you like it enough to want to burrow into it and live here until the weather outside is warm again.

You look up and your faces are inches away. He parts his lips and before you can say something, his eyes flick down to your mouth, then up to your eyes-

And then he leans back, blowing out a harsh breath and apologizing.

“Why do you apologize so damn much?” you ask before you can help it.

“I thought-”

“I would have said no,” you say.

He nods. “Okay.”

Nothing happens after that. You sit side by side and it’s awkward for a while, but soon he’s leaning over the arm of your chair to show you Vines his friends text him, and then you start talking. He tells you about these meme-loving friends, and you talk about the cities you’ve lived in and how college would be so much better if there were less tests and more essays and he asks, innocently, how you can type with your left fingers fused the way they are, so you get to show him your neat trick of reaching halfway across the keyboard with the longer fingers.

He reaches for your bad hand, touching the scar that rests like a rope right above the bone of your wrist. “What happened?”

You shake your head. “Nothing.” Your insides start to quiver. That feeling is back, that feeling that burns you up from the inside out whenever you think of him. It’s almost midnight and you’re tired, but you also feel so alive.

Something dawns in his eyes. He lets your wrist go and rolls up his sleeve to reveal the thin white scars marking his skin in even intervals like a white picket fence. “Like this?”

You want to cry just looking at them. Your only consolation is that they’re old scars and there’s no sign of fresh marks.

“Yes,” you say, and it’s barely a whisper, but he hears you nonetheless.

He pulls his sleeve down and touches your wrist again, lifting your hand so the scar is eye level. “Badass,” he says again and then he keeps his eyes on yours as he presses a kiss to the ruined skin, his lips trembling against your greatest flaw.

“John-” you start to say and he jerks back like he’s expecting you to hit him or run away but you surge forward to kiss him and as his hand cups the back of your head, you find yourself not caring about the cold or the shame or anything else except the warm skin under your hands and the gentleness in his lips.

“You have a tattoo,” he says, and your right hand flies to your cheek because yes, you do, but you wear such heavy foundation that you forget it’s there half the time, and he’s never commented on it before anyway. “That’s-”

“Badass?” you suggest with a quirk of your brow, and he laughs.

“Why do you cover up all the good stuff?” he asks with a pout. You watch in fascination as his pupils slowly shrink, revealing more and more blue. “Your hand, the tattoo. Why?”

You shrug. “The tattoo is so people don’t stare. I hate staring. And I hate this-” you hold up your hand - “more than anything.”

“I think it’s the best thing about you,” he says softly. After a breath, he speaks again. "You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time."

You smile. "You too."

#memori #memorifanfic #dailymemori #maskingtapepoetree #bombshellsandbluebells #lindseysfandoms #katswatermelon #murphystartedthefire #thecarstairsheir

[tvxqdbsk]

After all the stuff that's happened in the last few days I'm trying to distant myself from kpop. I still enjoy it but I dont wanna be this invested in people idk I dont think its healthy so I'm trying to have a balance and I was wondering if u had any tips? How do u keep that balance? Even with tumblr I've had it since I was 13 so it's hard not to check it before I go to bed or when I'm bored but I'm not sure how to unlearn that Thank u in advance

ive had tumblr since i was maybe 14 or 15 and honestly? for a long time i dont think i had the healthiest relationship with the website and stan culture either. i think i still have a ways to go in this department but i’ve improved. 

the first big thing i did (and you probably wont want to hear this im sorry) was leave tumblr for a year. in early april last year i quit tumblr and didn't come back until march of this year and started completely fresh with a new account. its not like i fully left kpop, but it forced me to take a step back and only enjoy it at a casual level. i listened to the music and watched videos here and there but i was removed from having ready access to the fandom/tumblr. now you dont need to quit tumblr or kpop thats not what im saying. but i think its important to find a way to force yourself to be a bit more distanced. that might mean just checking your phone less and putting it far away from your bed when youre trying to go to sleep. its hard at first but whatever you feel like you might be missing will be there in the morning. i promise. 

okay for the emotional attachment thing, i get it. you dedicate so much time to them that your bound to get attached and i think thats okay as long as you keep yourself in check. its more than okay to enjoy kpop if its making you happy, but its important to remember that you dont actually know these idols and that they have a life outside of what you see. they have family and friends and memories and beliefs and we only know a tiny portion of it all. you dont really know what theyre like. we can hope that theyre being mostly honest about who they are as a person but at the end of the day all we really know is that theyre just regular people like us and theyre not going to be perfect. and its really really really important to remind yourself of that constantly. you dont know them and thats okay. remembering that has really stopped me from getting too attached to idols or holding as high expectations. 

lastly its important to make sure you have interested outside of kpop! you can try different types of art or find books that interest you or learn how to cook/bake or learn about different mythologies or areas of study that you find exciting even if you never plan on formally studying it. i think not focusing all your time on kpop is really important to having a healthy balance and a great way to do that is having a variety of interests.

#okay this is a mess but i hope it helped #ask

[awkwardspiritanimals]

do every stupid thing that makes you feel alive (vax and the mountain goats)

i’m doing a set of meta pieces where i take a critical role character and pick five mountain goats songs that i think they would like and that i associate with them, and then writing meta posts of varying middle lengths about them in my college!au. you can read the longer explanation on the project and find links to the other completed pieces here, and here’s the mountain goats wikipedia page if you’re unfamiliar. this is also a decent quick primer on them. i’ll link my favorite version of each song i use so you can listen along.

this is the second part, which belongs to vax.

i. when you punish a person for dreaming his dream, don’t expect him to thank or forgive you

this is the first mountain goats song that vax loves, although before he really loves the song itself he loves the way that it annoys his father.

there are few things better, in those early days right after they’ve moved in with their father, than going up to his room after a lecture and playing the best ever death metal band in denton as loudly as he can, shouting hail satan! hail satan! over and over again. vex usually just rolls her eyes and makes him change the song after five or six repeats.

she’s always been more easily hurt by their father’s disapproval than him, one of the very few things he’s never completely been able to understand when it comes to his sister, the way her face would fall during his lectures, and vax hated all of it, the lecture and the not understanding and look on her face. sometimes, when their father would turn around to gaze forlornly out the window of his study or whatever other over-dramatic gesture he’d decided was appropriate for the situation, vax would lean over and whisper hail satan hail satan hailsatanhail until vex smiled, until he could construct that small and fragile and important shield for her.

he plays it, the night their father agrees to pay for school, as they’re driving home. it feels different than what it had been when he was younger and trapped in that house (when you punish a person for dreaming his dream, don’t expect him to thank or forgive you), because this feels like a victory somehow. maybe not total, maybe not permanent, but a victory, for vax and vex and the things they want to do and the people they want to be (will in time both outpace and outlive you).

ii. you must try to lead a good life

of all of them, vax likes the mountain goats’ early stuff the best. percy probably owns more of it, just because he owns more of their music in general, and scanlan’s the one with the encyclopedic knowledge, but it’s vax who really loves them the most.

there’s something about it, the tinny quality of darnielle’s voice and the static from the old boombox and all of it, the way it should sound far away but actually sounds very close somehow. he likes that they don’t show up on setlists very often except when someone shouts a request and jd is struck by a certain mood, likes the give and take and closeness of that.

it’s not at all that he dislikes the newer albums, with the horn parts and backing choirs and drums (what a thing it is, that drums can be considered more complicated than what came before it) but there is something, about jd’s voice, slightly distorted, and the guitar, twangy and overloud, and the static.

something close that vax appreciates.

iii. spread the word around, the boys are back in town

there was a day, that first summer in emon, before tiberius had left and pike had started spending most of her summers in other cities and they’d all gotten busier and busier, that is bright and golden in vax’s memory.

it had been in early july, a long way from both the end of the last school year and the beginning of the next, one of those days that was too nice to stay inside but absolutely too hot to do anything outside unless it was in the shade, and vex knew the city parks like the back of her hand, knew a corner of one where they could park beneath a couple of huge trees away from the crowds and enjoy the weather together.

this was before grog had bought his van, so they’d had to take two cars, the girls in keyleth’s little vw (poor cassandra, in the middle of her last growth spurt and taller now than all of them except for grog and her brother, automatically got shotgun because climbing into the back would have almost certainly required dislocating something) and the boys in percy’s truck (scanlan in the middle of the cab because he’s the only one short enough to sit there comfortably, grog and tiberius in the bed with slinger because they’re taller than vax, although grog probably would have volunteered anyway. vax isn’t sure anyone has ever loved having a friend with a truck like grog loves having a friend with a truck).

vax played the song very, very loudly (most people would say too loudly, but vax has always had trouble with that concept as a whole. this is not in any way a metaphor for anything, of course), and the girls played cyndi lauper back. (the boys are back in town/oh, girls just wanna have fun)

they’d ended up playing frisbee of all things, once they’d grown bored of just sitting in their cars with the doors open so the air could flow. keyleth had one in her trunk, vax suspected in the hope that somehow this exact situation would arise, and she’d been simply delighted by all of it, even when scanlan made a crack about how someone should be photographing them for a brochure. it had been so hot that percy had been wearing a t-shirt, long, twisted scars visible all up his right arm (car crash was all he’d told vax a few months before, when he’d caught a glimpse of them under percy’s sleeve, and something in his voice had made vax think that in this one thing, at least, he should be slow and cautious), but both he and his sister were smiling, cass throwing tennis balls from the passenger footwell of the truck for slinger and laughing when grog started to race the dog to retrieve them, vex and percy competing to hit various trees with the frisbee, pike picking their targets and judging their aim.

(tiberius stayed in the bed of the truck, reading. he was only back in emon for a week or so to do some research in the university’s library, didn’t have a lot of free time to spend doing anything else. he’d agreed to come that day, but he’d already been drifting away from them, caught up in his family’s wishes and his own work, and maybe they should have realized what was happening, maybe they shouldn’t have been so surprised when he sent an email instead of showing up for the first day of classes in the fall, but they were. you never really expect your family to leave, no matter how much experience you might have in the matter.

but he was there, that day. distant, yes, distracted, but present. that was important.)

vax was charmed by all of it, keyleth’s joy and scanlan’s teasing, the way grog threw himself full-body into chasing after the tennis balls with at least as much joy as slinger did, cass doubling over with laughter, all her usual dignity deserted. his sister in the sun, grinning each time the frisbee connected with a solid thunk against the chosen tree, sticking her tongue out at percy when he matched her and dancing with pike when he didn’t. percy was more patient though, more calculating, and when he hit one ten paces off over his shoulder just to show he could and then smirked, vex’s expression got caught halfway between wanting to kiss him and wanting to fight him; there was significantly less confusion and less violence in pike’s.

in the winter sometimes, when the air was so cold it stung on the walks between classes and it was sort of hard to remember what the heat of the sun actually felt like, he remembers that day a lot, because that’s when he needs it the most, needs the warmth and the light of it. they spend a lot of time at scanlan’s in the winter, because his heating is the best and most reliable, scanlan complaining while he and pike make dinner from whatever stuff vex had gotten on sale that day, the de rolos putting out formal place settings with mismatched silverware and plastic cups.

vax mostly just tries to stay of people’s way, puts himself in charge of taking advantage of scanlan’s excellent sound system. he doesn’t know if anyone else remembers that one day like he does, but he plays the song anyway.

(the nights are getting warmer, it won't be long, it won't be long till summer comes)

iv. do every stupid thing that makes you feel alive

vax is learning, as he gets older and grows into himself, that not everything can be solved by rushing in and doing your best. he is learning that there are some things that you can’t solve just by poking and prodding at them until they break wide open and you can face them. (percival’s scars almost always tucked away underneath long sleeves, the very specific way that cassandra’s spine goes rigid around certain authority figures. grog’s childhood before he met pike. scanlan’s mother, keyleth’s mother, pike’s parents. vex’ahlia’s fear that she is not good enough. there were lots of these things, and there always have been, and vax is trying his best to learn them, to tread carefully. he doesn’t always get it right.)

but he is still, by nature, impulsive and too fast and halfway into trouble before he even thinks about the consequences. there are things, he believes in his heart, that must be brought tumbling down before they can heal, and that they are just as important as the things that must be slowly and cautiously uncovered. there can be healing in all that tumbling, in disturbing the unstable base of something enough that it topples over and the pieces of it scatter.

some things have to fall apart before you can really fix anything. (do every stupid thing that makes you feel alive.) vax practically specializes in it, and he thinks it would be selfish to keep that to himself.

some days, he drags himself out of bed at ass o’clock in the morning to go running with grog, to spot him while he lifts. he picks the locks on the greenhouses on campus, nights keyleth gets a little drunk and is convinced only the plants will really understand. when percy takes a fourth straight overnight shift at victor’s, he’ll drag a chair in from the poorly lit lobby and drink coffee he thinks is part motor oil, or sit in the passenger seat of the tow truck and flip the radio stations. he listens to very, very loud music with scanlan and stays up nights helping pike study even though he doesn’t know what half the medical jargon in her books means and tries to cover the ends of cass’s shifts at kima’s whenever she looks dead on her feet.

he looks after vex’ahlia as best he can, pushes her when he thinks she needs it and protects her when he can (he gets it wrong, sometimes, still, after all these years, but the thing about his sister is that she never holds it against him, not for very long. vex never forgets a debt, but she has again and again forgiven his mistakes.)

vax is glad that he’s not alone in watching out for them. they all watch out for each other, and even then they miss things, but they’re trying their best. they’re family, after all.

he’s more than happy to do his part. (find limits past the limits and stay alive. just stay alive.)

v. but they came, and when they finally made it here, it was the least that we could do to make our welcome clear

their little family sort of stumbles together, and it wasn’t anything that he had expected when he and vex arrived in emon, but vax leans into it anyway. growing up it had just been him and vex and their mother, and after their father had taken an interest in them, it had really just been the two of them, so a big group like this, a big family, was new.

and it kept getting bigger, was the thing. there was the seven of them, and they were one thing, different and separate in ways he couldn’t quite articulate but that he knew existed. but the others, the branching network of people they’ve surrounded themselves with, were just as necessary to the whole of it, and just as unexpected. gilmore, kima and allura and drake, kash and zahra. even victor, who owns the mechanic’s shop that percy works at and never complains when six or seven of them crowd into his tiny waiting room to do homework while percy works, as long as they stay out of the way of any actual customers.

none of them were from emon, but they’d all ended up here and they’d all found each other, stumbling or not, and they’d made a home here, a family. unexpected as it may have been, vax wouldn’t have it any other way.

#vax #vax'ildan #critical role #vox machina #the machina goats #straight up this is mostly just so i could write that middle scene #like i think all of these are v good songs that vax would like and listen to #but like.... mostly it's just so i could write that park scene #also props to myself for that heavy handed jenga metaphor in the middle there i reallyworked for that one #jenga #disaster asshole family #lots of non-album versions for these songs because i know good non-album versions