#hamish duke
Hamish: I want a coffee shop that eventually serves alcohol towards the later hours
Vera: wait you mean a bar?
Hamish: no. ? I mean a coffee shop
Gabrielle, wanting to be done with this game as soon as possible: Guys, I’m an Imposter vote me out.
Jack: Funny joke, but that wont help us figure out who the imposter is.
Gabrielle: I’m serious. I am voting myself out.
Lilith: Hamish is acting sus.
Alyssa: Its Hamish
(and this continued until everyone voted out everyone else and Gabrielle won without killing anyone.)
Lilith, Hamish, Randall, and Jack: *have another bad and dangerous idea*
Alyssa and Vera, waking up in cold sweat: Something is wrong.
Jack, whispering: Be very quiet. We don’t want Hamish to hear us.
Randall, whispering: I’m trying…
Hamish, in the distance: I can hear you whispering.
Jack, whispering: He can hear us whispering!
Randall, whispering: Let me check if he actually can or he’s playing us. Ahem. Hamish loves Vera.
Hamish, in the distance: You bet love Vera. Wait-
Randall: *jumps out of bush where the were hiding*
Randall: I FUCKING CALLED IT MOTHERFUCKERS!!!
Jack, whispering: Oh damn, he can hear us.
Jack: music is just wiggling air
Gabrielle: don’t do this. Don’t do this to me today.
Hamish: and colour is just wiggling light. Thank you for coming to my tedtalk.
Gabrielle: ple-
Lilith: artists and musicians are just magicians of the wiggle.
Randall: an artists best quality: their wiggles.
Gabrielle: i’m leaving the pack
Vera: Of course I care about everyone in the order equally.
Hamish: We were attacked while you were away.
Vera: Is Jack okay?!
Vera: I hope you all have a verygood explanation for this.
Randall: We have four, actually.
Jack: We couldn’t decide on one.
Lilith: So you can pick your favorite.
Hamish: I’m so sorry about them.
Randall: Hey, it was your idea in all of these!
Jack ends up swearing his life to the cause.
It’s not because he thought about it over and over again and decided it is to the knights his loyalty lies and not to the strange organization his father is the head of, nor it is because he decided the knight’s goal was nobler, getting rid of those who harm his kin.
No, Jack swears his life to the cause because the knights love him. Because they look at him and see a person, not a weapon to cure grief or a nameless acolyte, because they see him,thereal him –and truthfully, they had every right not to, considering the wolve hide who claimed his body – but they do, look at him and see Jack, not Silverback, and it’s all Jack wanted but never dared to hope for.
So really, his choice was long made. The fact they condemn him murdering his ethic professor is just a bonus, a weird one, but a good new nonetheless, and Jack wonders how far he can go until they draw the line.
“My dad is Edward Coventry.” Jack blurts out, because he has never been one to half-ass anything, and considering how hesitant he is to choose his major, he seems quite dedicated to fuck his life himself. “The head of the Order.”
Lilith whistles, legs crossed on top of Jack’s. He’s still not used to the closeness, but it’s a relieving one that makes Silverback sing in his heart, so he accepts it gladly.
“You mean the one you want to kill?”
Jack nods. Lilith laughs, patting his shoulder. At least one of them finds it funny.
“I cannot wait to see that.”
Hamish has the audacity to smirk, holding a hand out in the air while Randall begrudgingly shoves a ten dollars bill in his palm.
And then it clicks.
“You guys bet?”
Randall bites his lips, shares a mischievous look with Hamish.
“I bet the reason why you wanted to kill him was related to a father figure.” Hamish shrugs, and sometimes Jack forgets he’s a TA for Professor Krowchuk’s philosophy class.
“And I bet you just thought his beard was hideous.” Randall rolls his eyes, points an accusatory finger at him. “Please tell me you’re not going to grow one because I swear I’ll shave you in your sleep.”
“What? No.”
“Okay, but can I draw one on your face?” Lilith interrupts, a marker already in hand.
If Jack was completely honest, he’d say the reason why he decided to join the Knights of Saint Christopher is also that they’re a bunch of unrestrained idiots and Hamish looked like he might need a hand.
NEXT (x)
“I’ll return it.” Jack mumbles, looking every bit as nervous as he is, surrounded by no less than three werewolves. “I just, look, I didn’t have any clothes and Lilith—”
“You can keep it.” Hamish cuts him, his words leaving his mouth before he thinks, but he’s quite alright with it. He’s not sure he could bear to have Jack’s scent all over it, were it to be returned.
Then, Hamish looks at him, really looks at him for once, sees the bloody lines on his face and down his neck, circling his mouth, and he has seen enough of these to know the meaning they bear, one of a life robbed under his teeth.
Jack should be proud. He hasn’t been a werewolf for more than a week and yet, has already turned and killed his first warlock, it’s quite a feat.
But instead of beaming with pride and relief, Hamish can’t see anything but shame and guilt on his face, creasing his brows and nose as if he was about to puke, and Saint Christopher be his guest, he’s positive the boy hasn’t killed anyone before.
Hamish doesn’t mock him. Rolls his eyes, maybe, because he didn’t plan to make cocktails so early no matter how much he loves to drink, but Jack clearly needs an après-kill, and even if he’s not quite a knight yet, he certainly won’t be the one refusing it to him.
It takes but a few moments of preparations under Lilith and Randall’s understanding gazes before he shoves the glass between Jack’s hands and orders him to drink it.
Jack, ever so wary, welcomes him with a sickened face.
“It’s alcohol.” He complains, and Hamish snorts.
“So?”
“It’s seven in the morning.”
“Fucking drink it, for God’s sake.” Lilith groans and rolls her eyes, hits her head against the back of the couch.
“You need it. Trust us.” Randall adds, and if the deadly bored glares Lilith and Hamish gave him weren’t enough to convince him, Randall’s words just might.
And the thing is, it doesn’t taste bad. Good, even, but it’s still alcohol, and it’s still seven, but at least it burns his throat enough to wash the taste of blood go away and make him a little dizzy, which is just what he needed to forget he just ate a man’s heart for breakfast.
But then Hamish sits on the couch next to him, bodies touching from hip to knee while Randall flops on top of them three grinning like a madman; and to be honest, cuddling with three people who could easily rip his throat wasn’t how Jack planned to spend his morning, but he’s not sure he really has the choice.
NEXT (x)
If it only depended on him, Hamish would have stayed in bed for the rest of the morning. The prospect of laying next to Randall and share his warmth is already alluring enough, but he fears if Randall keeps looking at him with these eyes, he might do more than that and propose a second round.
And as much as it kills him to tear his eyes away from the soft lines of his body, something else catches his attention, tickles his nose, the odd blend of his own scent intertwined with an unfamiliar one although it isn’t one of a complete stranger, Hamish remembers smelling it on Randall a few days ago, and many others before; which is the exact reason why it bothers him so much.
He’s upstairs, most definitely not in foreign company and yet he can still smell it, this weird scent Tundra picked up, and Hamish swears he can almost feel her laughing inside him, a loud rumble cursing through his whole body.
Hamish groans, grabs his clothes, ignores Randall’s pleas. He’ll catch up on it, has been a wolf long enough for that.
Barely a minute later, and as if to confirm his doubts, Randall jumps off the bed, looking at him with both wariness and a hint of amusement, and really, it doesn’t help him at all, because even if Randall figured out who it belongs to, he doesn’t seem to be willing to share it with him.
They walk down the stairs in a controlled rush, although it doesn’t prevent Randall from jumping across the stairs’ rail as soon as the height doesn’t threaten to break his bones, and as Hamish follows suit, finally walks in the living room, he catches a smile tugging at the corner of Randall’s lips, right above the lovebites Hamish left on his neck.
And then he sees it, right in front of him, the new knight who so ardently refused to join them, Jack, wearing his robe so loosely it wouldn’t be any different if he wore none at all, and as much as he loves to give his fellow knights everything he can, it’s an entirely different story if it involves a stranger, no matter how much the way their smells mix together draws him in, spreads warmth through his whole body.
“I wasn’t going to give him mine.” Lilith explains before he can ask, and Hamish doesn’t miss the way her eyes laugh louder than the emotionless facade she pretends to have. Lilith has always been able to read him too well to his liking, and sometimes he wonders if Timber isn’t the one whispering his secrets to her through their wolves, because there’s no way she thought of this herself, and considering how sly Tundra loves to be, he wouldn’t be surprised, she knows he wouldn’t be able to refuse it.
Stupid wolf.
NEXT(x)
this is a psa but y'all really be sleeping on the knight of saint christopher being in a poly relationship with each other ain’t you
the order? good
does it need a damn revision? fuck yeah
“Can’t we wait a little longer?” Randall calls out in the middle of the beer-pong game, drunker than he ever was, and god what did he think, Hamish never lost a bet, especially when it involves alcohol; but he can’t stop, if he goes down it means Jack will die, because no matter how serious their pledge as knight they still decide life and death situation with stupid games, and he’s losing, and he hatesit.
Randall groans, holds his head between his palms and Hamish sees it. He’s pleading, Hamish, Hamish please, and Hamish doesn’t want to name it yet still does, cannot ignore what lies in Randall’s eyes.
“You took a liking to him.”
They’re knights. Jack is a liability to them at best, a threat to their cause at worst. It’s not like Randall doesn’t know about it, but Hamish knows best, more than anyone, already lost a piece of him to this battle.
And the worst thing is Randall tries to deny it, opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of the sea, rubs his neck and dances on his feet like a child caught red-handed.
“It’s not—” He says, attempts but he can’t find the words, and Hamish thinks he can hear Lilith whistling in the distance, enjoying this much more than she should.
“Please. Give him more time. I'll— I’ll vouch for him, anything— Please, Hamish—”
Hamish is their leader. That’s why when Lilith required Jack’s head and Randall so desperately argued against it, he hid his own thoughts, gave the both of them a fair chance to prove their point, because he didn’t need to hear Lilith’s nagging about him being too soft, because he actually doesn’t want the boy to die, doesn’t want to see another knight fall.
“Alright.” He says, and Lilith scoffs in the distance.
Hamish only met Jack once. Though, if he can make Randall lose his mind like this, things are going to be quite interesting indeed.
NEXT(x)
hamish duke appreciation post (and by extension thomas elms because i have a thing for blue eyed blond guys who portray depressed, uptight and emotionally unavailable alchoholic hot scholars)
that’s it, that’s the tweet
ALTi must be mentally ill because i find this incredibly hot
him breaking out of that chair was ridiculously hot
also has anyone noticed the bits when he smiles or laughs then gets rid of any emotions on his face??
hawt
It’s always so funny to me when I see Hamish wearing chains attached to his jeans because in my culture only a certain category of people do that (not to say they’re bad or uncultured or lesser people) and Hamish couldn’t be less alike if he tried
(not the best example but I had to grace you with a picture of him because look at him)
Here’s the thing about relationships in The Order (if that fandom is still alive)
They’re bad (most of them anyway)
Queerbating
It doesn’t matter that we got a half-assed 2 minutes long lesbian relationship if it got terminated immediately and sprung out of nowhere and half of that relationship literally got sent to hell; also both members are POC
You can’t make hamish and randall kiss out of nowhere and put that much feeling into it if you’re not going to go through with it even if their chemistry was off the charts (like the kiss me or the we had to had toorhe wishes??)
Overall I think The Order just has a problem with relationships (both straight and queer ones, though I do enjoy Hamish x Vera and/or Hamish x Randall, Randall x Gabrielle and Nicole x Lilith even if it was shortlived)
Exhibit A: Randall and Lilith. Why was that ever a thing? Just… just no
Exhibit B: Jack and Alyssa. They are for some reason the main couple yet they are mostly on and off and it’s not even entertaining. No one was surprised that they are each other’s love interests, but everything about them just gets so repetitive. Halfway through you’re just annoyed they’re not together. And even then you’re not enjoying it. But they are the main heterosexual white couple that got way too much screentime
Most of these problems would be resolved if we had got a season 3, but sadly we’re left with this mess.
